“God, you were a spoiled brat that day,” Zoe said. “And everyone but us got sick. I saved you.”
“No, your instincts saved us,” Darcy said. “Which is my point. What do your instincts say now?”
“That something’s up.” Zoe’s heart was beating heavily, although there was a solid argument to be made that it was from the kiss. She felt anxious, especially when she once again peeked out and peeked around the corner of the hallway, past the restrooms and pilots’ lounge to the side exit and saw not a single soul. She moved back to Joe’s office.
Still no Parker. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Follow your instincts,” Darcy said firmly.
Zoe disconnected and tried calling Parker. No answer. Dammit. Darcy had suggested she follow her instincts, but her instincts were tied. She needed a tiebreaker. So she called the most logical, reasonable, straight-headed person she knew—her brother.
Wyatt answered sounding harried and rushed. “Yeah?”
“You mean ‘Hello, sister, lovely to hear from you,’” Zoe said.
“Hello, sister, I’m about to go elbows deep in a cow. Literally,” Wyatt said. “State your emergency or hang up.”
“Parker told me to stay,” she said.
“Then stay,” Wyatt said without missing a beat.
“What?” Zoe asked. “You don’t just tell a woman to stay and expect her to do it blindly.”
Wyatt sighed. “You’re calling me again why?”
“Because this is all your fault, he’s your friend!”
“And I think he’s something far more to you,” Wyatt said calmly. “Or you wouldn’t be calling me all bent out of shape because someone bossed you around, when we all know you have to be the boss.”
“I don’t—” Zoe pressed a finger to her twitching eye. “I just . . .” She didn’t know. She’d called an end to things and she’d already been conflicted about that before the kiss. “I’m a little out of my league here,” she confessed.
“Well, join the club,” Wyatt said. “Falling in love isn’t for the weak, that’s for damn sure.”
“I’m not falling in love.”
“You sure?”
Dammit. She’d never been so unsure in her entire life. “I’ve got to go.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt said. “But Zoe? Do him a favor and give him the benefit of the doubt. And then if you care about him like I think you do, hear him out before you shut him out.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “I don’t shut people out.”
“Mom. Dad. Me when I went to undergrad in New York. Every man you’ve ever dated. Should I go on?” Wyatt asked.
She disconnected. And then blew out a breath as she looked around. Out the side wall of windows she could see Devon preparing the Lear for flight. He must have caught a flight she hadn’t heard about.
Biting her lower lip, she stared at the door for a beat before deciding she needed one more peek. She unlocked the door and stuck her head out.
The door at the other end of the hallway opened, only the man who came inside wasn’t Parker.
It was Tripp Carver. He was over six feet tall, midthirties, and built like he’d once been a football star and had let himself go a little soft.
But there was nothing soft about his face. His expression was dark and mean. He eyed the row of three metal chairs against the wall between the men’s and women’s restroom, snatched one, and jammed it under the door handle.
Zoe gasped and he turned to her. A gun had materialized in his hand. “Get over here.”
Could he see her knees knocking together? She hoped not. “I don’t think so.”
“Look, I’m not fucking around. I’ve got a scheduled flight in five minutes, and now Parker James is here, breathing down my neck. So you’re my leverage out of here.”
“Me?” she squeaked, finding her voice. “Why me?”
“I saw him with his tongue halfway down your throat. You mean something to him. So get your sweet ass over here or I start shooting.”
Well, hell. Next time Parker said stay, she would absolutely do just that.
Twenty-six
Parker had followed Carver down both legs of the hallway and out the side door.