A bed. This jet has a bed. A flight to New York doesn’t take long, so I doubt we’ll use it, but there it sits. Perfectly made up, ready to be messed up. I chuckle to myself. Will Braden and I be joining the mile high club?
How many other women have joined the mile high club courtesy of this bed?
I erase that thought from my mind. This trip already makes me nervous. I don’t need to think about all the other women Braden has bedded in this jet.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Black.” A blond flight attendant smiles. “And you too, Ms. Manning.”
Braden nods. “Thank you, Robin.”
I simply smile slightly and follow Braden on board. He leads me to two wide leather seats that make first class on any other airline look like steerage.
He gestures to me, and I take the seat closer to the window. He sits next to me.
“I have a great crew,” he says. “They see to every need.”
“Is the pilot blond, too?” I can’t help asking.
“The pilot is a fifty-five-year-old male veteran,” he says matter-of-factly. “Do you want something to drink?”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“It is. That doesn’t mean you can’t be thirsty.”
He’s right, of course. And I am a little thirsty. “Just some water.”
He gestures to Robin, who stands next to another flight attendant, this one raven-haired with searing dark eyes. “Two bottles of water.”
“Coming right up.”
I roll my eyes.
“Something wrong?” Braden asks.
“How can they be so chipper at one in the morning?”
“They’re paid very well to be on call at all hours.”
I can imagine. I don’t say it, though. Robin brings me a water, and I thank her and take a long sip.
“It’s a short flight,” Braden says, “but once we’re at cruising altitude, you can lie down. Robin and Dani will see to your needs. Try to get some sleep.”
“Maybe,” I reply.
He takes my hand and rubs his thumb into my palm. “Skye, this isn’t how I planned to spend this night, either.”
“I understand.”
My words aren’t lies. I do understand. I even understand why I needed to come along.
“I didn’t have time to pack anything,” I say.
“You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll get you anything you need for your meeting on Monday.”
“But the new camera. It’s still at my place, and I wanted to bring it, to take photos of the city.”
“This won’t be our only trip to New York,” he says.
I nod. He’s right, and part of me jumps inside at the thought of many more trips with Braden. As far as my wardrobe goes? Surely I’ll be dressed to the nines for my meeting. Better than I’d be if I wore my own wardrobe.
Another loss of control.
My control is rapidly becoming an illusion.
Like my reflection in the mirror, it’s only a two-dimensional image of what I really am.
Perhaps it’s time. Time to truly let go.
I scoff softly. I’m not thinking straight. It’s the middle of the night, after all.
Still…I can’t deny that the idea isn’t quite as disturbing as it once was.
I’ve been obsessing about what I might lose, but what might I gain?
Braden sits next to me, his attention buried in his laptop. All business, Braden Black. And it dawns on me.
Braden runs his life like he runs his business. Everything under his control at all times.
Even me.
That’s what he ultimately wants, and if I don’t give it to him, he can easily find someone who will.
He’s not his father. He won’t settle for an opportunistic student who uses him as a ladder. No, Braden wants a challenge. He views his whole life as a challenge, and he thrives on it.
You are a challenge, Skye.
How many times has he said those words?
Braden is the kind of person who rises to every challenge and then defeats each one.
Is that how he sees me? As just another business deal? A challenging business deal, to be sure, but still just a business deal?
Does he simply enjoy the chase? If I give him all he asks for, will he grow bored? Find another challenge?
No. He thrives on winning. He thrives on overcoming every challenge and building his business. Can it even be called a business at this point? Or is it now an empire?
And if it’s an empire, he’s no longer a CEO. He’s a fucking king.
Am I just one more business deal to negotiate until he gets what he wants? One more alliance to form?
Braden Black always gets what he wants.
Even in the middle of the fucking night, Braden gets what he wants. Even if it’s just me on his private jet.
I turn to him. “Braden?”
He doesn’t look away from his computer. “Yes?”
“Tell me what’s going on with the deal.”
“You wouldn’t be interested.”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I weren’t interested.”
“You’re an artist, Skye.”
“Yes. I’m an artist—an artist who’s trying to start her own business. Of course I’m interested in what you do.”