“I’m thinking flying makes me very nervous.”
His eyes widen in disbelief and a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Saige. You work for an aviation company—one of the top private jet manufacturers in the world—and you’re telling me you’re afraid of flying?”
I wince at him, trying not to laugh. “Was I supposed to disclose that in the job interview?”
He chuckles. “I guess not. I just find it an odd choice of business if this is one of your fears.”
I shrug. I don’t think it’s that odd. “I got my degree in design. I never anticipated working for an aviation company—you found me, Holt. Remember?” I smile softly at him.
He nods and looks out the window. “I did,” he says quietly, pulling my hand into his. “Best thing I’ve ever found.”
The words were meant to be happy, but his voice was laced with sadness. If he wasn’t holding my hand and I couldn’t feel our connection, I almost wouldn’t have believed him.
Holt
Saige doesn’t budge as we land in New York City. The flight was smooth, and she dozed off a few minutes into the flight. She curled up in her chair and rested her head on my shoulder, falling into a deep sleep. I could tell this week has taken a toll on her. Between her breakdown and dealing with Sergio Perez, I was glad she agreed to let me bring her to New York. This is the best place in the world to get lost and distracted—and I couldn’t wait to have her all to myself for an entire weekend.
We taxi to the small hangar off the main airport where they park private aircraft. I can see our SUV waiting. As we come to a stop, I kiss Saige gently on the lips to wake her. With groggy eyes, she jumps out of her chair and grabs her purse.
We deplane and Saige stretches when we finally step off the plane, with her long arms high in the air, her back arched, and her face to the sky. “I can’t believe how fast that was,” she says with a yawn.
“Time flies when you’re sleeping.” I nudge her playfully.
As our driver loads our luggage into the back of the SUV, I hold the car door open and Saige slides into the backseat. I take a seat next to her, and we’re on our way. Saige is quiet as our driver navigates the busy New York City interstate, delivering us to Manhattan. Even at this time of night, traffic is crazy.
“Holt,” she points at the Manhattan skyline as we get closer, “it’s amazing!”
“This is nothing,” I tell her. “Wait until we’re in the middle of the city. Honestly, though, Chicago reminds me a lot of New York City.”
She turns and looks at me with a giant smile on her face. “But it’s New York.”
“That it is,” I respond. The look of excitement on her face makes me smile.
It takes us about forty minutes to arrive at the Four Seasons from the airport. When we step out of the car, Saige pulls her phone from her purse to take pictures of the city while I arrange with the bellman to deliver our luggage to our room. Once the arrangements are made, I send our driver off for the evening.
We’re greeted upon entering the massive lobby and I’m immediately handed an envelope with our keys. Saige grips my hand tightly as we walk through the stone lobby, and she tugs on me to slow me down as she takes in its beauty. All stone and glass, it’s classic yet modern. “This place is amazing,” she mutters as she takes it all in.
I escort her to the elevator, where we quickly ascend to our secure floor. “Wait until you see the room,” I tell her as we walk to the end of the hallway.
She audibly gasps when I swing the door open and we step inside the dark room. The shades are drawn and our room is nearly floor to ceiling windows that overlook Central Park. “Holy shit!” she says, dropping her purse on the large round foyer table that sits just inside the suite. “That’s Central Park.”
“It is,” I tell her, delighted. “We’ll be sure to go for a walk through there. Or a horse-drawn carriage ride,” I say, closing the hotel room door.
“No way. Emery would kill me. She made me promise we wouldn’t ride one of those carriages. Animal abuse.” She shrugs and I laugh. She turns around and gives me a look. “Emery is very serious about this.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I tell her. Emery is our office’s happy little hippie. I shake my head and stifle a laugh.
Saige has her fingertips pressed against the glass as she takes in the city. Lights, buildings, Central Park. What should be overwhelming for a small farm girl from North Dakota transfixes her.
“Holt, is that the Freedom Tower?” She points to the large building in the distance.
“It is. We’ll be sure to stop by while we’re here.”
“I’m worried we won’t get to see everything in two days,” she says, finally walking away from the window.
“Then we’ll come back,” I promise.
“Presumptuous.” She smirks.
“Determined,” I respond, smirking right back.