Running From Destiny (5 page)

“Heather, where did you go last night?” I whisper in her ear as she approaches me and wraps me in a bear hug. Heather is a hugger. I’m not, but she’s my best friend so I hug her back. Probably a little harder than she’s used to. I’m just happy she’s here, and so angry with her at the same time. And I don’t have to face breakfast alone with Jackson, that’s a bonus. Heather backs up and looks at me, smiling. She then looks at Jackson, then me, then Jackson, then back at me, and wiggled her eyebrows.

Ugh.

“I’m mad at you, H. I can’t believe you let him in our room, in the bed! I woke up and there he was. I could so kill you right now, and I’m planning your execution. Explain yourself.”

While I was angry earlier, I’m bot that mad now
, but I don’t let her know that. I keep my angry frown on long enough for her to explain. Jackson sits down at the table and allows me to speak with Heather, privately.

“So, how was it?” Heather asks me, sarcastically.

“How was what?” I know what she’s asking, but I wasn’t about to give it up right away. I decide to make her work for it.

“Ya know, did
you pound the punanni pavement? Knock boots? Bump uglies? Come on, Al. Spill!” She wiggles those damn eyebrows again.

“H
mmm, wouldn’t you like to know? A girl doesn’t kiss and tell.” I said, egging her on.

“Al!” She’s almost screaming at me now, so I chuckle.

“Come on, you know me, what makes you think he got his weenie wet last night? You know I don’t put out on the first date.” I concede, not like last night was a date by any means. By this point, I could feel Jackson’s eyes on me. Heat waves from the back of my neck down to my ass. Oh geez. Could this conversation get any more awkward? Could he hear us? I thought maybe he had bionic hearing, along with his ex-ray vision.

“Yes, Alexandra.
What would make your friend here think I got m
y
weenie we
t
last night?”

Shit. Real mature Ally.

Apparently the conversation just got a lot more awkward.

He had snuck up behind me and Heather had said nothing, by now I’m really startin
g to reevaluate our friendship. I blush and I don’t usually blush easily, but that heat from my back was now up my neck and all over my face. Heather just smiles. I really am gonna kill her.

“We will discuss this later.” He emphasizes th
e
wil
l
.

I ignore him and look away to Heather
, “Don’t we have a plane to catch?” Heather looks at her watch. “Yes, in four hours. We’ve got time to eat before we head to the airport. Can I join you guys?”

“Yes!” I answer.

“No!” Jackson answers.

Damn!

I really don’t want to be alone with the Suit, especially now that I know he overheard our shagging conversation. Heather frowns. Jackson grins. “I’ll meet you up in the room in an hour.”

She groans and nods, giving me th
e
are you sure you’re okay with that look
?
“I’ll be fine. Go. I’ll see you in a few. I’ve lost my appetite, so this won’t take long.” Heather hugs me again. “See you upstairs.”

I watch her shake her perfect booty and sway those hips
as she strode to the elevators. She then stops short and turns back to us, walking back and digging in her purse at the same time. “Your key card, Jackson.” She hands it to him and turns on her heel, not waiting for him to respond.

“Sit.” Jackson commands.

I give him the stink eye, but I sit. I’m not in the mood to argue with Mr. Bossy Pants this morning. This weekend has been strange enough without getting in an argument in the middle of the restaurant. He hands me a menu and I perused it quietly. Frankly, I have nothing to say to the male specimen sitting across from me and since I’m not even hungry anymore, I lay the menu down on the table. The waitress comes up a little too bubbly for seven o’clock, but whatever.

She takes our orders and flashes a perfect smile at my “date”, but I stare at her and she
turns to go place our orders. Jealous much? Where in the hell did that come from? Not only did I have no reason to be jealous, I never got jealous. In fact, I’ve never had the opportunity to get jealous. It’s not like The Suit belongs to me or something. And now that I think about it, maybe I should have let her stare and smile her flirty little smile, and he’d become more interested in her than me.

But he appa
rently didn’t even notice her. He must be so used to women falling at his feet that it didn’t faze him at all. “So, Alexandra. Tell me about yourself.” Was how he started the conversation.

“First of all, call me Ally.
That’s what my friends call me.” I said quietly.

He doesn’t say anything.
It’s so quiet, I expect crickets to start chirping.

He just sits
there, looking at me.

“There’s nothing much to tell.
I’m an administrative assistant and I live in the burbs of Atlanta.” I answered. That’s really all I have to say, anything more was none of his business.

The waitress approaches again, all smiling and girly, bringing our f
ood and topping off our coffee. I thank her, because I respect the profession but he just nods at her.

“Atlanta huh? That’s good.
I spend a lot of time in Atlanta with work. I have an office in Midtown.” He said.

My brain immediately goes on
overload. He comes to Atlanta? Crap. “What do you do?” I asked. He chews his English muffin and washes it down with coffee. He was even gorgeous when he was eating, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“I’m the CEO and head editor for Women’s Pride Magazine. Heard of it?” He continued eating.

“Yes, I’ve heard of it.” I reply looking down at my plate. Women’s Pride is the chubby version of Vogue or Cosmo. I lay my fork down, no longer able to swallow. I have no idea where this conversation is going and I’m not sure I’m prepared to stick around.

“Why are you not modeling like Heather?” He asks as he places his napk
in under the edge of his plate. Apparently he’s done eating. He place his elbows on the table, crossing his long fingers under his chin and stares at me, waiting for my response. I don’t answer right away because I don’t have an answer. I thought it was obvious why I wasn’t a model. I also couldn’t answer, because I was choking on my bacon. Modeling? Pfft. Not me. That’s Heather’s job, I’m just her sidekick.

“I have a BA in Business Admin with
an emphasis in Interior Design. I work for a large firm in Atlanta, working my way up to Project Manager. Though, it is taking longer than I thought it would.” I finally spit out my answer.

“You’re in the wrong line of work, Alexandra.”

Who does this guy think he is? I’ll keep asking that question until I get an answer.

“Umm, Ally,
please. I hate my full name.” He just glares at me. His emerald green eyes are really starting to affect me. I feel my stomach flip and I attempt another sip of coffee. It’s hot, no doubt. But there’s no taste.

“Come work for me, Alexandra.” He state
s, and I proceed to choke on my coffee. I really need a new head, between my lips not working and my throat wanting to choke on everything. Smooth, Ally. Real smooth.

“What?”
Is the only thing I can think to say. He really must think I’m an idiot.

“Look, I know this is an unconventional proposal, but you hav
e what I have been looking for. You’re real, not made up.You have a natural beauty and you will grace the pages of my magazine. You’re th
e
All America
n
girl I’ve been looking for.” Again, not a request. He states what he wants and expects to get it without question.

“Thanks, I think.
But no thanks. I like what I do. It’s the degree my parents paid for. Plus, I am not model material. I am not sure what you see, but....”

“Stop!” He ho
lds his hand up. “You will not put yourself down. I said you are beautiful, and what I say is true. I never lie to people and I never joke around about pure beauty.”

I stutter
. “I am not a model. Thank you for breakfast, but it’s time I get upstairs to pack. It was nice meeting you.” I stand to leave, and I expect him to stop me, but he doesn’t. He stands up and holds out his hand, apparently understanding that he’d crossed a line. I skittishly place my hand in his and thank him again for breakfast.

“I’ll see you back in Atlanta
.” He states, dropping my hand. I’m not quite sure what to make of that, but I nod and turn toward the elevators. It was all I could do not to run.

Chapter 6

The elevator doors close and I release the breath I did
n’t realize I was holding. My hand is tingling from where he shook my hand. I look at my fingers, staring at them as if they look different now. Funny. I crack myself up sometimes. But I’m happy to say my fingers look the same as they did a few minutes ago.

I pull my key card out of my back pocket and make m
y way down the hall to my room. I insert it and the light turned green I open the door and step into the room, looking back out to the hall way to make sure he didn’t follow me up. “There you are!” Heather says while looking up from her almost packed suitcase. “Soooo, how’d it goooo?” She taunts me.

“How did what go?
You seem to think there is something going on. Well, there isn’t. Just finish packing and let’s head to the airport.” I turn and head to the bathroom to pack my toiletries.

“Gee, grumpy much?” Heather teases.

“Oh let’s see. I go to bed early with a headache and a crowd of strangers pile into our hotel room and I wake up with a strange man in my bed, who demands I have breakfast with him. Yeah, I’m a little grumpy.”

“Puh lease, you loved it.
It was about time you removed the chastity belt and had a little fun, Al. You are way too uptight.” Heather continues her teasing, throwing my panties at me.

“E
ww, come on Heather. You know as well as I do, nothing happened between me and The Suit last night, and nothing will.”

“The Suit?
That’s what you call him?” She laughed. “His name is Jackson Bentley. Do you know who he is?”

“He told me he’s some big
shot at Women’s Pride magazine. So out of my league, H.”

There was quiet in the room.
Or at least I couldn’t hear anything after I said that. My mind immediately went to The Suit and his dark blonde hair and mesmerizing green eyes shaded by full lashes. That sly quirk of his upper lip giving off the impression that he was trouble. Yep, he’s trouble all right. With a capital T! Hey, I think Travis Tritt and Taylor Swift both sang about this messiness. I should pay attention. I jolt from my thoughts when Heather punches me in the arm. “Ow, bitch! What was that for?”

“You zoned out there, Ally.
Got “The Suit” on your mind, huh?”

“No. I have no interest in him, or going to work for him.”

“Wait, what? He offered you a job? What the fuck, Al? What kind of job?” Heather seems truly surprised, just like I was when he made the offer.

“Who knows, modeling I think but you and I we
re not cut from the same cloth. Modeling and fashion are your areas of expertise and I have no desire to go that route. Plus, he must be on drugs or something if he thinks I need to be modeling.” I shrug my shoulders and zip up my carry-on bag, pulling it up so I can roll it out.

“Ally, stop.
Why do you always put yourself down that way? You’re a beautiful woman. A real woman, curvy and voluptuous. You really need to work on that esteem girl. It’s driving me crazy.”

“I am not putting myself
down, Heather. I am a realist. I see me for what I am. I’m not blind, I’m honest. I love what I do and can’t wait to get back to Atlanta and drown myself in my work. It’s all I have.”

“You
have me girl.” Heather hugs me. Have I told you she’s a hugger?

“I know, and I love you. Now can we just drop it?
We have to return the rental car and get to the airport. Flight is in three hours.”

We pull our stuff out to the parking lot, my eyes constantly searching
our surroundings for The Suit. Thankfully, he’s not around.

“I’ll see you back in Atlanta.”

I’m thankful that he knows very little about me, not that he would try to find me anyway because he was just being nice, or maybe he was hard up or something. Guys like that don’t go for girls like me, but I planned to search for him on the internet as soon as I got home. Why? I had no idea, maybe to get an idea of what I would be missing or to just plain torture myself.

We finally make our way throu
gh security and up to the gate. As we wait to board, the Delta attendant calls our names. Heather and I look at each other. “Great, we must be getting bumped for some hot shot that thinks he deserves our seats more than we do.” Heather groans as we approach the attendant.

The attendant took our boarding passes and started pu
nching stuff into her computer. “Ladies, you have been upgraded to first class. Here are your new boarding passes. We will begin boarding shortly. Thank you for flying Delta.” The attendant tells us.

Heather and I just looked at e
ach other with raised eyebrows. I peer at the attendants name tag, “Um, Laura. We didn’t request an upgrade.”

Laura looks at her screen again, “I can’t tell on here who requested it, only that it was
done.” She smiles back at us. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, thank you.” And Heather and I look at each other, shrug and head back to our seats to wait for boarding.

“What the hell was that?” I ask Heather. “Who would upgrade us like that without telling us?”

Heather just shrug
ged her shoulders, “Who cares? We’ll be traveling in style. Free drinks!!” She punches her fist in the air like she’s partying like a rock star. Yeah, I need a drink now because I don’t have a warm and cozy feeling about this. And rightfully so.

About that time the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as if another electrica
l charge blew through the room. Funny how that keeps happening. Heat travels up my spine and I know he’s here before I seem him. The Suit.

Shit.

“Ladies?” He croons out as he walks past us. Heather’s eyes light up and she watches me watching him walk by. That was all he said, but his presence said so much more. I glance around the gate area at every woman there, who were also watching him walk by. He knows how to hold a woman’s attention, including mine, which is not good. I start sweating, and my palms get clammy. I try wiping them on my jeans but it’s no use. As soon as I get them dry, they dampened again and I can feel Heather’s eyes on me. I turn to her and glare. “What?”

She chuckles.
That sly, devious chuckle that Heather is known for. “You freak out whenever he’s around.”

“I do not.
I...I, I hate flying. You know that.” I try to convince her. She laughs, out loud. A full on belly laugh. Before I know it, everyone in the seating area is looking at us, including The Suit. “Shhhh” I tell her, “Everyone is looking at us.”

I feel a wave of heat creep up my
back, neck and up over my face. I know my face is red, I can feel it and I’ve never been good at hiding my embarrassment. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” I get up without waiting for Heather to acknowledge me, and rush into the bathroom. Thankfully it’s close to the gate and I don’t have to trudge through the terminal.

I actually do have to pee, s
o the timing is good. I do my business and am at the sink washing my hands when I look at myself in the mirror. My neck and face are still red from embarrassment or sexual need, I can’t tell anymore.

The Suit does things to me no man ever has before
. He’s made me realize that....no, he hasn’t. Never mind. I shake my head and banish those thoughts. “Get a hold of yourself, Al.

No man is worth it.
You’re happy and successful, single. Yes. Single. That’s how I want to be right now. I’m focused on my career and don’t have time for anything else. Much.”

I look at my watch. Shit.
Five minutes until boarding. My phone dings and I look at the text. Of course, it’s from Heather.

H-
“Get ur ass back, pln is brding.”

I dry my hands and hurry back to the gate, thankful again that the restroom was right here and not all the way down the terminal.

First class is boarding and I don’t see Heather, so I get in line and wait for the atte
ndant to scan my boarding pass. As I venture down the tunnel toward the plane, I glance at my ticket to get my seat number. One A, great. Front row. As I approach I don’t see Heather, but after I look around I see her on the second row, to my right. I looked at my pass again, yep. One A.

“What are you
doing over there?” I ask her.

“This is my seat, see?”
She thrust her ticket in my face.

“We aren’t sitting together?”
Before she had time to answer, her eyes light up. They seem to be doing that a lot lately.

“Have a seat, Al
exandra.” I jerk around and there he is and for once more in my life, I’m speechless.

He stands there looking at me.
A devious smirk spread across his lips. My emotions flipfrom pissed off t
o
Oh My God. My eyes are wide and my mouth hangs open. So not a good look for me. I slowly sit down, not closing my mouth. He sits down beside me after placing his belongings in the overhead. Then he turns to me.

Oh no.

His thumb and index finger drift under my chin, effectively closing my mouth. “Careful. Bugs are going to fly in if you don’t shut it.” He whispers. So I close my mouth, only to open it again. I know I must look like a fish gasping for water, but I can’t help it. I look back to Heather and cringe at the satisfied look on her face. She sticks her tongue out at me and giggles.

“Did you know about this?”
I mouth at her over the seats. Her jaw drops in an attempt to look innocent. “Heather!” I groan in frustration and turn back facing forward, just in time for the Flight Attendant to ask if we want anything to drink. “Shiraz.” I answer, at the same time Jackson answers.

“Water, for both of us please.” He smiles at the flight attendant, who instantly
seems infatuated with The Suit. “I need you sober for the conversation we’re about to have, Alexandra.”

“ALLY!
My name is ALLY, please do not call me Alexandra, I hate it!” I cry as his thumb brushes my cheek.

“You su
re are cute when you are angry. Ally.”

“I am not ang
ry. Confused, frustrated, yes. But not angry.” I turn to glare at Heather again. Resigned, I take the cup of water the attendant hands me. “Thank you.”

I sit quietly throughout the taxi and take off of the plane, content to stare out the window and dream about ways to jump out of
this plane. I look under the seat. Nope, no parachute.

The
Suit didn’t speak much either. He was deep in something on his iPad and ignoring me, which I was okay with because I had nothing to say to him. I close my eyes and his scent wafts under my nose. Shit. I didn’t need to be smelling that. Too much of a good thing got you an invitation to join the Mile High Club. So not happening.

I take a deep breath and fa
ce the window, closing my eyes. Maybe if I feign sleep he will continue to ignore me the entire flight, but I don’t have that kind of luck. “Alexandra.” He says.

NO!
Just as I was about to drift off. I ignore him at first, pretending I don’t hear him.

“Ally!” He says again, while nudging my arm, his warm
breath skittering past my ear. Warm and way too close. “I know you’re awake. Your breathing isn’t shallow enough to indicate full sleep. Look at me.” He did not ask. No, that wasn’t a request. Again with the commands.

I glance over at him with sleepy eyes and he growls, again putting his thumb and index finger under my chin, as if to lift my head up so he can se
e up my nose. “What are you? A doctor?” I answer, my voice full of sarcasm, and I pull my head away from his grasp.

He laughs.
“Oh Alexandra, such a comedian eh?”

This man is the most frus
trating person I have ever met. “Just tell me what you want and cut it with the domineering, macho bullshit Jackson. I am not in the mood. If you want to say something, say it. You maneuvered your way into the seat next to mine, demanding I sit. Then you peruse your iPad for the last hour and now you want to talk. So TALK! Because I am losing my patience.” Apparently he didn’t think that was very funny, because the look on his face changed to something a whole lot like scary.

“Why the disrespect, Alexandr
a? I only want to talk to you. After all, I did say I would see you back in Atlanta. This is my way of ensuring that happens.”

I t
ake a deep breath. “What? What do you want with me, Mr. Bentley?”

“Jackson, or
Jack. Please.” He curtly responds. “You, Alexandra. I want you. In my magazine and in my bed.”

When I sucked in a breath
, I apparently sucked in all the remaining oxygen in the cabin because everything started to spin and go dark. My vision became blurred and I couldn’t see anything. “Ally, are you okay? Ally?” I hear him calling for the attendant, who comes right away.

“Miss, are you okay?
Here’s some more water, do you need assistance to the restroom?” “No.” I shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. Do you have any chocolate?” I ask the attendant. She turns toward the galley and quickly comes back with a small bag of M&M’s.