“How did we get so lucky?” Cammy asks. “This feels weird.”
“It does, right?” I agree. She doesn’t smile or think it’s funny. “I don’t know the answer to that. Maybe we just finally deserve it after all the shit we’ve been through.”
She takes a deep breath, then lets it out. The drive back home is silent, and though I sucked down a large iced latte, I hop right back into bed and sleep until I have to leave for Harmon’s.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harmon
“I’ve never done this before,” Cassius says as he eyes the small jet.
“It’s fun. You’ll love it.”
His eyes widen as we get closer. “I don’t know. Maybe this was a bad idea.”
I stop, grabbing his arm gently to stop him and turn him to look at me.
“Don’t let your fears get in the way of this opportunity. You have the means to travel whenever you want now, but why spend your money when you can spend mine?” I step closer. “It’s going to be a fun weekend, Cassius. I promise it won’t be all work. I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
I shrug. “Consider it a bonus.”
“I thought an all expenses paid trip was the bonus.”
“Who said that?” I ask. “You’re still working for me.” I lower my voice and add, “So don’t forget that, slave.”
He sucks in a sharp breath and nods. We continue toward the jet and climb up the steps and into the cabin.
“Wow. It looks like an apartment in here.”
“I like to be comfortable when I fly.”
“This is crazy.”
I look around the space, trying to see what he sees.
I don’t. I don’t think anything about this is crazy or shocking. It’s just a plane. Just a jet. Just what I’m used to.
“Sometimes I wish I could see things through your eyes,” I say, taking a seat in my chair and patting the one beside me. I gave him the window so he can look out of it if he wants.
“What do you mean?”
“Everything is so exciting to you. I envy that.”
“Nothing excites you?”
I look him up and down. “Some things do.”
His cheeks turn pink. I smile to myself and close my eyes.
The attendant announces we can move about the cabin as we please now that we’re in the air. I take my seatbelt off and get to my feet.
“Remind me how long this flight is?” he says.
“Ninety minutes.”
He nods, tense in his seat. I glance at his hands that are holding onto the armrests, his knuckles white. I feel awful for not noticing how nervous he is until this moment.