Another person to look at her with relentless dissatisfaction.
Taking another step, Natalie squinted. Beyond the covered drive, beyond the signs of different airlines, the ground was quickly becoming covered with a blanket of white. “Do you think they’ll delay the flight?” she asked.
“No, miss. They know your father is waiting.”
Chapter Two
Coincidence is the word we use when we can’t see the levers and pulleys.
~ Emma Bull
“You made it,” the man in seat 2B said as he stood, allowing Natalie to move past him to her seat beside the window.
“Why, yes,” Natalie sighed more than said, shoving her carry-on bag into the overhead compartment and making a brief assessment of her travel companion. “Even with PreCheck, the security lines were unreal.” Settling into her seat, she looked up. Since the man was still standing, she couldn’t see his face. Instead, she started with his long legs and moved upward to his trim waist, firm torso, and broad shoulders. She liked the view, even contemplating that perhaps the flight wouldn’t be as bad as she’d expected—until he sat and spoke again.
With his jaw clenched, his words came out harshly. “Why wouldn’t you expect that? You should have allowed for the delay. It’s the holiday travel time. In a few more minutes, they’ll be closing the door. Do you realize that you could have missed the flight?”
His crass tone and cool eyes took her aback. It was as if he were reprimanding her. “Excuse me, do I know you?”
At once, his stern demeanor melted, taking the ice from his eyes and raising his cheeks as a smile bloomed. He lifted his hand. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Dexter, Dexter Smithers.”
Years of manners were impossible to forget, even with this man’s unusually stern introduction. Slowly, Natalie extended her hand and they shook. His grip was firm and warm, a nice contrast to the temperature outside. “Nice to meet you. I’m Natalie. My friends call me Nat.”
“My friends call me Dex,” he said, “but to be honest, I hate it.”
She laughed. Maybe the flight wouldn’t be so bad.
As he buckled his seatbelt, she stole a sideways glance. Now that Dexter’s expression had softened, he definitely looked like the type of man she would consider handsome. Probably a few years older than she, with dark blond hair that covered the tips of his ears and blue-green eyes, he had a sexy, suave Norwegian look. When she first arrived, she’d rushed past him so quickly that she couldn’t be sure of his height, but based on the fact that he’d tilted his head within the cabin to stand and the way he filled the first-class seat, he was easily over six feet.
Natalie found taller men more attractive. She’d inherited her father’s height—towering over her mother—topping off at nearly five feet nine inches. Being a fan of high heels, she thought tall men made the best arm candy.
A loud noise drew her attention to the window. The deicer truck was farther back, shooting something hot against the wing. The snowy air filled with steam as a loud hiss permeated the cabin. “I really hate this. I wish they’d just postpone the flight instead of taking all of these precautions. I don’t feel safe.”
“Safety is simply a matter of trust. No one is ever really safe. There is always someone else with more power. Besides, postponing wouldn’t do. My plans have been in place for too long.”
She took a deep breath, momentarily closed her eyes, and leaned back against the soft seat. “I guess I need to trust the airlines. They wouldn’t take off if it were dangerous, right?”
“Danger, now that’s another concern altogether. It implies harm.”
“Your plans?” she asked, her eyes now open as she spoke, hoping to shake the strange feeling brewing beneath her skin. She rubbed the arms of her sweater, taming the goose bumps materializing underneath. “Are they for the holiday?”
“The holiday? No, my plans are for much longer than a few weeks.”
“Really? Do you live in Europe?”
His lips quirked upward. “Not permanently, but with the isolation, it seemed like the perfect place to begin. Wouldn’t you agree?”
His words left her uneasy. Instead of concentrating on them, Natalie thought back over her various travels. “I’ve found Europe to be magical—the castles and history.”
“Tell me, Natalie.” He leaned closer. “I’d like to get to know you better before I call you Nat…”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling dry.
Where is the attendant?
As Dexter spoke, she scanned the cabin, fighting the restlessness coming to life somewhere below her consciousness. There was something about this man that put her on edge. Something about the intensity of his stare, as if he could call her Nat, as if he somehow knew more about her than she did about him. But that was silly. She’d never seen him before, never met him.
Her imagination was playing tricks. With her concern over facing her parents, flunking out of Harvard, and the cold temperatures in France, she hadn’t been sleeping well. This agitation was all part of the stress. If only she could get away from it all instead of flying into the lion’s den of her parents’ rented home.
“Did you hear me? Are you listening?” His scolding tone pulled her from her thoughts.
“No, I’m sorry. I think my mind was wandering. Have you seen the attendant?”
“I asked you if you believe in magic.” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “You said that Europe is magical.”
“Not literally,” she scoffed. “Not as in wizards, witches, spells, and wishes. If those were real, I’d be going somewhere other than France to spend the holiday with my family.” She looked around the cabin.
“Where would you be going?”
“Tell me, kind sir, are you my fairy godmother, or should I say father? Are you here to grant my wishes?”
He lifted his hand and pushed the button near the overhead lights. Within seconds a woman in a blue blouse and skirt with the airline’s emblem on her name pin materialized. “Sir, do you need anything?”
“Yes.” He turned to Natalie. “What was it that you needed?”
“Um, a glass of water. Thank you.”
The attendant nodded and with a quick pivot hurried toward the hidden area beyond the seats and before the cockpit.
“You didn’t need to do that. I was late getting to my seat. That’s why she didn’t come by. I’m sure she’s upset that we’re throwing off her schedule.” The sound of beeps turned her attention outside the window to where the deicer truck had begun to back away. “We’re probably about ready to take off.”
Dexter shook his head. “I’ve never gotten out of Logan without at least a twenty-minute taxi. Sometimes it seems as though we’re driving instead of flying. Besides, you asked for the attendant. It was your wish.”