Adam claps me on the shoulder and laughs as he walks away. There are a lot of thoughts rocketing through my mind. Part of me wants to go confront Damon head on – and then beat the living piss out of him. I know that would be a stupid, impulsive move though.
I need to be smart. I need to be patient. As much as it sucks, I need to wait for Adam to dig up the dirt, and then come up with a plan. Only when I have a plan, can I act.
Until then, I have nothing but idle time on my hands. And enough frustration and irritation to fill up an entire cruise ship.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Liam
“Do you trust me?” I ask her.
Paige gives me a sideways glance but eventually nods.
“Surprisingly,” she says, “For the most part, I do.”
She looks down at the blindfold I pull out of my pocket and I see her eyes widen, drawing a small laugh from me.
“Is this some kind of freaky sex thing?” she says, pointing at the blindfold.
She bites her lip as her eyes shift from the blindfold to me, a conflicted look on her face as if she's suddenly reassessing her level of trust in me.
“First of all, a blindfold is about the least freaky sex thing I can think of,” I say. “If I'd pulled out handcuffs or maybe a whip, then you'd have cause to worry.
“Yeah, easy for you to say.”
I laugh again. “There is nothing sexual about the blindfold,” I say. “I promise. I just have a surprise for you.”
Over a year or so ago, I'd made plans for Valentine's Day. A Valentine's Day that was intended to be spent with Brittany. It included making reservations at one of the most exclusive restaurants in Victoria – a restaurant so exclusive, it requires reservations that far in advance.
Obviously, a lot has changed since I made the reservation a year ago and I'd honestly forgotten that I'd made it at all until they'd called me to confirm the date. At first, I considered canceling and not doing anything. But, after a little time and some thought about everything Adam had told me during our chat a couple of days ago, I decided that maybe it would be better to enjoy the day with someone else. Somebody I enjoyed being around.
Still a little nervous about the message it might send, but deciding to plow forward anyway, I called her and asked that she clear her schedule for the night. Like me, she was hesitant at first, but eventually – probably after being badgered by her friend Skyler – decided to accept my invitation.
It's obviously the elephant in the room, but neither of us mentions the significance of us being out on a date on February 14th. Valentine's Day usually means something serious, and I'm not sure we're quite there yet. In fact, I know we're not.
But I also didn't want to waste the opportunity to enjoy the best restaurant in Victoria, British Columbia. It's something I remember looking forward to when I initially set up the reservation. Once I'd heard about it from a colleague, I knew I had to try it.
Or maybe, that's just the rationalization and justification I'm giving myself.
“May I?” I ask, holding up the blindfold.
A look of slight trepidation crosses her features, but she nods. I step forward and gently wrap the blindfold around her, making sure it's not too tight.
“Can you see anything?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not a thing.”
“Good,” I say.
I get her into the car and Daniel takes us to the helipad that sits on the small, private airstrip across town. I help her out of the car and over to the elevator that will take us to the roof, where my helicopter is waiting.
I fear that once Daniel starts the helicopter, the sound and wind from the rotors are going to give things away. Or at least, give away the fact that she's getting on a helicopter. As the engines begin to whine as they roar to life, the rotors begin to turn and Paige pauses, gripping my hand tight.
“Why are we near a helicopter, Liam?” she screams to be heard over the engines. “What's going on.”
“You'll see,” I say. “Trust me.”
“Yeah, said the spider to the fly.”
I laugh as we walk to the helicopter. Daniel opens up the door and helps us climb inside. Once I have her safely inside the cabin, I step up and get in as well. Once we're seated, Daniel closes the door, which dramatically reduces the cacophony of sound outside.
I grab the headsets from the wall mounts and put one in my lap. Paige flinches when I slip the headset over her ears, but I put a reassuring hand on her should and give it a squeeze. I slip on my own headset and adjust the microphone.
“You have nothing to worry about,” I say into the mic.
I watch Paige fumble around, finally finding her own mic and pulling it close to her mouth. “They always say that right before there actually is something to worry about, you know.”
I laugh and shake my head and settle back into my seat. We're in the executive helicopter I'd bought specifically to ferry me between Port Safira and Seattle. It's a helicopter, which means it's not going to be the height of comfort, of course. But, the Bell 407 Textron isn't bad.
The executive cabin is separated from the pilot's compartment for a degree of privacy. It's large enough to hold six, has deep, padded chairs, and all the electronic bells and whistles I could ever want. And most importantly, at least for my purposes now, is that there are plenty of windows, giving us a panoramic view of the world.
Daniel's voice comes over the headsets. “We'll be taking off now, Mr. Anderson,” he says. “Please make sure you and Ms. Samuels are buckled in tight.”
“Thank you, Daniel,” I say.
After making sure our belts are cinched down, I finally take the blindfold off Paige. Her eyes are already wide as she looks around and I see a momentary shadow of uncertainty on her face. It's that moment I realize that I never asked her if she has a fear of flying.
Too late now, I think to myself.
The helicopter smoothly and gracefully rises, and she stares out the window, her eyes growing wider, her mouth forming a perfect “O.” She stares out the window in silence for the longest time and I really begin to worry that she's in the grips of a panic attack or something. Especially given that she's still clutching my hand so tight, I'm afraid she's cutting off circulation to my fingers.
“Are you okay?” I ask after a few moments pass.
“I'm fine,” she finally manages to choke out, her voice a bit raspy. “Just a little scared of heights, that's all.”
“Have you ever been in a helicopter before?”
She shakes her head and turns to me, her face starting to blanch. Paige is still gripping my hand and staring at me, her eyes completely locked on mine. It's as if she's actively trying to avoid looking out the window by staring holes through me. I reach out and stroke her cheek, feeling her trembling, but also leaning into my touch.
“You'll be just fine,” I say. “Daniel is the best pilot a person could ask for. He's been flying helicopters for twenty years. He even flew them when he served in the Middle East. From what I gather, he got in and out of some hairy situations. This is nothing compared to that, and I have no doubt he'll get us to our destination safely.”
“Where are we –”
“Shh,” I say, pressing my finger to her lips. “Like I said, it's a surprise. You'll just have to wait and see.”
Without really thinking about it, I pull her close to me and wrap my arm around her shoulder. Paige allows me to comfort her, resting her head gently against my shoulder. It takes a few minutes, but I feel her body finally start to relax a bit. I continue to soothe and comfort her until she sits up, the color coming back into her face, and finally gets the nerve to look out the window.
The snow-capped mountains outside stretch for miles, the sun dazzlingly glinting off the peaks. The blue color of the snow sparkling beneath the sun shines like sapphires – which, I guess is how Port Safira got its name. It's a stunning sight, and I find myself glad that Paige finally had the nerve to look out the window and share it with me.