The Fortunate Ones
Page 32

James picked me up from the co-op at 4:45 AM looking sharp in jeans and a sweater. I instantly regretted my comfy lounge clothes, but I’m not someone who likes to travel in style. I assumed we would be taking a commercial flight, so I wore yoga pants and a sweatshirt. As we boarded the small plane, the flight attendant made it abundantly clear that she was confused by my attire. Her gaze swooped over me and I was dismissed within a half-second as unworthy of the James Ashwood. I don’t necessarily disagree, but I’m here, and the champagne tastes amazing, so what do I care?
“A little more, please,” I say with a broad smile.
As she tops me off, I think back to how Ellie and Marissa took the news when I told them where I was going. I would rather have kept it a secret, but I needed them to cover my shifts at Twin Oaks for the next three days. Marissa thought I was lying just to get out of work until Ellie corroborated the fact that I’ve been spending time with James lately.
“YOU LITTLE MINX!” were Marissa’s exact words.
I smiled and shrugged as she tried to pry details out of me. While I had to tell her about Vegas, there was no reason to go into the complicated dynamic of mine and James’ relationship, or lack thereof.
My gaze slides across the aisle to where he’s typing away on his laptop. This is a work trip for him. He’s made that clear, and I refuse to play the role of whiny brat, so I sip my champagne and try not to bother him. I do, however, take in his profile while I think he’s focused on replying to an email. He’s clean-shaven, which makes it easier for me to detect the muscles clenching in his jaw as he types away on his computer. Whatever he’s dealing with, it’s frustrating him. I want to ask about it, but I’m scared he’ll shoot me down.
“I can feel you watching me,” he says while continuing to type.
I smile and glance away, happy just to be in this environment with him. There’ve been many nights in the last few weeks where I lay awake wondering what James was up to, what it would feel like to be in his presence again. It’s interesting just to see what a day in the life is like for a man like him, someone in charge of an empire.
We’ve been in the air for an hour, and I don’t think his fingers have stopped typing once. It sounds like he’s competing in a Mavis Beacon contest. The pitter-patter of the keys becomes white noise as I turn on my Kindle and return to my book.
“What are you reading?” he asks sometime later, and I realize with a start that he’s been watching me read.
“Just a bunch of business and finance textbooks,” I say with mock seriousness. “I want to be useful on this trip.”
“What are you really reading?”
I smile and show him. “It’s a book of essays by Samantha Irby.”
“They must be funny.”
I furrow my brow. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I’ve been watching you smile to yourself for the last 20 minutes.”
I guess two can play the sneaky staring game.
“She’s one of the funniest writers I’ve ever read. It’s worth a read when you have the time.” His gaze swoops pointedly to his laptop and I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess you probably don’t get much reading done.”
I think back to the worn paperback sitting on the table back at his house.
“Not much time for fun,” he admits.
The flight attendant steps forward from the galley to announce that we’re 30 minutes from our destination. James stands and I track his path as he heads back to the small bedroom. When he returns a few minutes later, he’s exchanged his jeans and sweater for a fitted black suit. I watch as he pulls a small leather Dopp kit out of his bag. Inside, there’s a silver tie clip that he slides across a thin black tie. Cufflinks are added with smooth dexterity. He straightens his collar and folds a pocket square before neatly tucking it into his jacket. Next, he tugs at the bottom of his shirtsleeves, settling the material so it sits a half-inch past his suit jacket. Most of the time with men, especially ones my age, it looks like the suit is wearing them rather than the other way around. That’s not the case with James. He seems more comfortable like this than he did in his jeans.
When he finishes, he glances toward me with a quirked eyebrow. I want to pause time and snap a photo of him looking like this, eyeing me with that exact look. “How do I look?”
He knows how he looks. He’s likely been told by hundreds of women throughout his life, but he’s asking me now, and for some reason I’m scared to inflate his ego any more—probably because I’m still currently sporting a sweatshirt and yoga pants. I curse my laziness. The man is Adonis, and I am Sloth.
I nod curtly. “Looks good. I like the suit.”
It’s as much as I can do without making a simpering fool of myself.
His smile tells me he sees right through my defenses.
“As soon as we land, I’ll need to head straight to the conference. There’s a welcome breakfast and then a full day of panels.”
“Are you excited?”
He shrugs. “It’s rare to have so many tech giants gathered together. I think anyone in the industry would get excited by that amount of brain power in one room, not to mention I went to school with quite a few of them at Caltech. It feels like a college reunion every year.”
“Is everyone staying at the same hotel?”
“Unfortunately for you, yes.”
I smile. “Why unfortunately?”
His gaze meets mine as he chuckles. “You’ll see.”
…
When we arrive outside the swanky hotel, it’s a complete madhouse. Our driver hurries around the back of James’ hired car and as soon as we step out, the whispers start. James’ name is repeated like a game of telephone so all eyes are on us as we pass through the front doors. Techies overflow every corner of the foyer and lobby, and the line for check-in winds back and forth like a coiled snake. Overheard conversations confirm that they’ve been waiting there for hours.
The hotel’s decor, usually sleek and modern, is hidden behind colorful banners and signs welcoming us to the conference. In fact, the first thing I see as we walk inside is James’ headshot waving on a banner overhead.
“You’re the keynote speaker?” I ask, pointing up.
He nods and pushes us forward without glancing at it. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s embarrassed to see himself blown up to epic proportions. The concept makes me smile.
A petite redhead comes barreling out of the crowd, beelining straight for us.
“Mr. Ashwood!” she says with a wide smile. A nametag on her black blazer explains that she’s the lead coordinator for the conference. “If you’ll follow me, we can get you checked in as quickly as possible.”
I expected to have to wait in the winding line, but instead, the coordinator leads us to a secluded corner of the lobby hidden behind heavy black drapes. Here, a young man sits behind a computer, typing away. When he sees us walk up, he stops immediately and stands to shake James’ hand.
“Good morning, Mr. Ashwood. We have your suite set up exactly as you requested.”
James nods. “Good. I’ll need you to escort Ms. Davenport there. I don’t have time to head up.”
The young man turns to me and nods, and just like that, James’ power and influence is passed on to me. It’s a heady feeling.
“Of course. Let me just get your room keys ready.”
I turn to James with a quirked brow. “I didn’t think there would be so many people here.”
He shrugs. “This is the largest annual tech conference in the United States. SXSW is popular too, but here the events aren’t combined with film and music. It’s three days focused strictly on innovations in the tech community.”
“I saw on that banner back there that your keynote speech will be broadcasted as a TED talk.”
He glances over my shoulder and sighs. “Don’t remind me. Public speaking isn’t my strong suit.”
I reach out and squeeze his arm for reassurance. “I think you’ll be fine. Did you see the way people reacted to you when we walked in?”
He wraps his hand around my lower back and leans down to press a chaste kiss to my lips. Before he pulls away, he whispers, “No, I didn’t notice.”