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“The slots into O’Hare?” Hayden offers through the phone.
“Chicago? No way. They took months to get. What else?”
My eyes land on a carton of grapefruit juice. I lift it, gauging its weight.Full. I put it back down and grab a bottle of water.
“What about San Jose?”
“We’ve only just secured Costa Rica,” I grumble as I screw off the cap and take a long drink before setting the bottle down.
“It’s not going to even get its inaugural flight if we don’t get Callaghan to play nice,” Hayden says.
“Fuck.” I tip my head back and stare at the kitchen ceiling.
“You know he likes things first. He’ll not want to share a single one of those engines.”
“Leave Callaghan to me,” I grit, scrubbing a hand around my jaw.
“Costa Rica?” Hayden leaves the words dangling in the air.
“Fine,” I concede. “But it’s all he’s getting.” Even as I say the words, I know they’re wrong. James Callaghan might be sweetened with the offer of the slots into San Jose. But there’s no way he’ll give up some of his new engines in exchange. He’s not a fool. He’ll be after more. A hell of a lot more.
“What about—?”
“No,” I snap.
Hayden exhales heavily. “You know it’s about the only thing that might make him consider it.”
I walk out of the kitchen and down the rear hallway, all the way to the end until I reach the old wooden staircase the servants would have used years ago.
“That might be the case, but we’re not that desperate.”
Yet.
“All right. I’ll make some calls about San Jose. Leave it with me.”
“Fine.” I end the call.
I climb halfway up the staircase and sit on the old, weathered wood. It creaks out a familiar welcome that has me rubbing my chest. I tuck my phone away and rest my forearms onto my knees, sinking my head into my hands as I rub at my aching skull.
What a fucking mess.
After the call with Hayden, I changed into my workout gear and hammered my body until it felt as pulverized as my mind at the thought of giving up anything that’s mine to James fucking Callaghan. His airline, Skyline, is our biggest rival when it comes to the North American routes. What started as nothing more than healthy competition years ago, turned into me catching private investigators hired by Callaghan rooting through my trash cans searching for dirt on me.
I can picture the smug bastard’s face when he realizes he has something I want. As long as he never finds out how much Ineedit, I can stomach the idea of playing whatever little hoop jumping game he’ll have me perform in order to discuss the engines. He’s always loved theatrics.
Bet he has a tiny dick.
I stop and face the open door out onto the guest room’s balcony. There’s no furniture on it, and everything inside the room, apart from the bed, is covered in dust sheets. Dad was getting this room decoratedbefore my impromptu visit. Before he invited a certain hotheaded woman to make herself at home in my room. Prickles run along the backs of my arms as I recall seeing her lingerie hanging up to dry in the laundry room this morning. She’s making herself comfortable, that’s for sure.
I walk out onto the balcony and crane my neck to see the pool house at the other end of the gardens. I haven’t seen Ava since I came home, so I assume she’s still holed up doing whatever it is she’s doing in there.
She’s probably stirring up potions to share with her coven. Ones that place men like my father under a spell that allows them to command supply of their own fridge in a house that isn’t theirs.
A tinkle of laughter accompanied by a low voice carry from around the side of the house. I step closer to the stone railing to peer below. A shimmering flash of copper moves beneath me as Ava strolls along chatting animatedly with my father’s landscaper, David. She lifts a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, but it promptly falls forward again. David’s arm moves, and I lean over the railing, my teeth grinding as he reaches for Ava’s hair. She beats him to it and tucks it back again.
I can’t hear what they’re talking about, but whatever he just said must be fucking hilarious because Ava throws her head back and laughs, clasping a hand over her mouth. They continue walking along the side of the house before disappearing around the corner.
“Fuck.” I suck in a sharp hiss as my palms sting. I pull them back from where I’ve been gripping the railings with enough force that the old, rough stone has scratched and made small beads of blood gather on my skin.
