Mile High (Up In The Air #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I didn’t correct her words, though they made me wince as though she’d hit upon a very tender subject.

Instead, I turned the focus back on her. “Why did you say you were broken?”

She smiled. It was the saddest smile, unarguably heartbreaking. She just had that effect. What she felt showed on her lovely face, and it was impossible not to feel at least a little of it with her.

“Since I can remember, I’ve been in love with a man who can never love me back. In fact, he’s in love with someone else, though it took me a long time to see that. My heart’s never been able to move on, so, much to my parents horror, I seem to be immune to the opposite sex. Even to a man as beautiful as James.


I tried to be attracted to him, at first, but it’s no use. I think that it was after that when I knew not to bother anymore. I’m the type of woman who will only ever fall in love once. Unfortunately, that one time happened to be with a man who could only ever see me as a sister.”

“That’s impossible,” I told her. “You could have any man you wanted.”

She just shook her head, finally pulling a brush out of her monstrosity of a designer bag. She began to carefully pull the brush through my mussed-up hair. “Lovely hair,” she murmured to me almost absently.

“You and I could pass for sisters, really,” she added. I thought it was a hugely flattering compliment.

“How many women have naturally blond hair nowadays? You’re the only other one I know. But, no, I certainly cannot have any man I want. And I only ever wanted one. Akira Kalua. I shamelessly threw myself at him and the best I got was a pity f*ck, pardon my crass language, but that’s the best term for it.”

“Akira Kalua,” I repeated back, surprised at the name. It sounded vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t place why. I thought the name sounded very Hawaiian. I had several Hawaiian friends, and there was a large population of them working for my airline.

She smiled almost wistfully, as though just hearing the name brought back bittersweet memories. “I’m an island girl at heart, if you can believe it, though I was banished from paradise a long time ago. God, I hate New York.”

I was more than a little surprised at that admission. I had just assumed, with her family wealth and incredible looks, that she would fit right into the big apple. “You’re from Hawaii?” I guessed.

She nodded, smoothing my hair with a comforting hand before digging back into her bag. “Born and raised. My dad fell in love with Hawaii when my mother was pregnant with me. Maui, to be specific.

By the time they were ready to live in a different house, I wasn’t ready to go with them. They had to leave without me, and my adopted Hawaiian family wound up having me more than my actual parents did.”

“Tell me about Akira,” I prompted. She just smiled, shaking her head. She brought a makeup wipe to my face, wiping off the errant mascara that had bled under my eyes. I wanted badly to hear her story now that she had given me a few juicy tidbits. From the beauty of her face and the sadness in her eyes, I just knew it was a tragic love story that would be captivating.

“Another time, perhaps. You need to join James before he causes a scene. We have to hang out sometime soon, though. James told me you live in Vegas. I spend a lot of time there, managing the family property. It’s only five minutes from the Cavendish property, in fact. I’ll get your number from James.

Have lunch with me?”

I nodded. I had met her minutes ago, but I felt like we were already friends. It was more than a little unusual for me. “Will you tell me about Akira then?” I asked, strangely curious about this lovely woman’s love life.

She gave me an exasperated look, digging into her handbag again. She handed me a tube of clear lipgloss. “Just use your finger. I swear it’s never touched my lips. It’ll make your lips look less bruised. And yes, I’ll tell you about Akira when we meet for lunch, if you really want to know. I never talk about him, so maybe it’ll be therapeutic to get it off of my chest. But you have to tell me about you and James.”

I liked Lana, so I agreed as I dabbed on a bit of lipgloss with my finger, handing the tube back to her.

She smiled at me. “Good as new. James will want to get out of here asap. He’s in a rare state. He was expected to say a few words, but I’m familiar with the charity, so let him know I’ll step in for him. I’ll call you sometime this week.”

When I stood she enveloped me in a tight hug. I hugged her back, more than a little surprised by the affectionate gesture.

“God, I love that you’re as tall as me. I don’t feel like a giant around you. We have got to hang out,” she said with a smile as she pulled back.

James was practically pacing impatiently as we stepped out of the bathroom. He grabbed my arm in a death-grip as soon as I was within reach.

“Go on. I’ll make your excuses. Oh, and James, send me Bianca’s number. We’re going out to lunch, hopefully sometime this week,” Lana told him.

He gave her a grateful, if tense, smile. “Thanks, Lana. I owe you.” He began to lead me away, not pausing as he spoke. “The car is being brought ‘round. We can make a quick escape. I need to get out of here.”

Becoming almost twitchy with impatience, James led us out of the ball and into a waiting town car in a dizzying blur of activity. We exited into a tiny back alley where I saw no sign of photographers.

I sensed James withdrawing as the car began to move. When I gazed out the window I felt him studying me but when I turned back to look at him, he was gazing out of his own window, stone-faced.

I had endless questions that I needed answers to. I wanted to know what Jolene had lied about and what had been the truth. I hoped to god not all of it had been true. I wanted and needed, to know, but I was almost scared to hear his side of it, scared that our relationship wouldn’t survive the answers. And it didn’t help that I had no idea where to even begin.

We were nearly back to his building before I broke the silence. The feet that stretched between us on the seat felt like miles.

“You said you’d never been in a serious relationship before, but Jolene claims that you were with her for a year and two months, and that you continued to see her often, up until six weeks ago. Was she lying?”

He was silent for an unnervingly long time, his face unmoving as he stared out the window. “We’re almost to my building. We’ll talk about this inside.”

I didn’t like that answer. I knew that the only answer I would have liked would have been a quick and unhesitant, ‘yes, she was lying.’

The driver took us to the underground garage elevator and we disembarked from the car silently. James took my arm in a proprietary manner as we walked to the elevator, but didn’t even touch me once we were alone. It made a little ball of terrible black dread tie a knot in my belly.

He was deeply upset, and it had to do with what had happened in the bathroom. Was he upset about the questions I would ask? Was he troubled about how I would respond to his answers? Or was it something worse? I was starting to worry that it was something even more terrible, like he was about to break up with me altogether. Had the whole relationship idea finally sank in for him, and now he was realizing that it wasn’t what he wanted? Had seeing the lovely Jolene made him realize his mistake? A part of me had been expecting him to do something like that all the while.

“Can we talk in our bedroom?” James asked, finally breaking the silence as we neared the top floor of the building.

I studied him. He wouldn’t even look at me. I thought I might become physically ill. “We don’t have to move this quickly, James. We shouldn’t even be talking about moving in together yet, let alone actually doing it.” I’ve lost all of my pride, I realized. I was trying to reassure him that we could take a step back instead ending it altogether. Anything to keep him from saying what I feared he was thinking.

He sent me an almost stricken look, but quickly looked away, making me think I’d imagined it. “We’ll talk in our room,” he said. I wasn’t reassured.

The elevator reached his floor, and he led me up to his room without a word. I saw from a clock we passed that it was just past eleven o’clock. I was shocked that it wasn’t any later than that. A lot had happened in the last few hours. I thought of Lana Middleton. She had been a welcome distraction. “Do you know anything about Lana and Akira?” I asked James.

He still didn’t look at me. “Akira?” he asked. So he didn’t know, either.

“Never mind.”

He was walking first up the stairs to the floor of his bedroom. “Lana is the worst workaholic I know.

She makes me look like a slacker with my seven day work weeks. Everyone who knows her loves her, but even the socializing she does is for work.” His tone was impersonal as he mapped Lana out.

“She asked me to go to lunch,” I pointed out.

“That means she really likes you. I’m glad. She’s a very good friend, and she’s very discreet and nonjudgemental, so you won’t have to guard your words with her.”

I blinked, wondering if he meant that I could discuss us with her. “Does she know about your… preferences?” I asked finally.

“Not exactly. She knows that I have atypical sexual proclivities, and she knows that I used to sleep around too much, but I doubt she’s heard many more details than that. But I think she would be a good person for you to talk to, if you need that. As I said, she can be trusted with secrets, and she won’t… berate you for your own preferences. That’s just not her way.”

He had basically given me the go ahead to tell Lana about our BDSM activities. I was grateful that I could, though I still didn’t know if I would. I hadn’t even discussed it with Stephan, and I rarely kept even the most minor of details from him. I decided that it might be easier to tell a woman like Lana than it would be Stephan. He was so protective of me that I wasn’t sure how he would react to the things I let James do to me.

Our brief distraction technique came to an abrupt end as we reached his bedroom. He hovered in the doorway, ushering me inside. I glanced back at him. He was acting so unlike himself that it raised every hair on my body.

He just watched me for long minutes, as though trying to get answers just by looking. His face was shuttered, but his hands shook a little as he loosened his silken navy bow-tie.

“Take off your clothes, Bianca.” When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously soft.

I shot him a defiant look, my chin lifting. “We can’t put this off, James. We need to talk.”

He nodded. “Yes. Take off your clothes and get on the bed. We’ll talk then.”

I watched him closely, trying to decide if it was a strange joke.

His nostrils flared. “Now,” he said. There was a fine tremor in the hand that pointed to the bed.

Finally I complied, driven by his strange mood and the desire to know exactly what it meant.