AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Flight 345 nonstop to Milwaukee now boarding at gate thirty-five….”
The TSA agent wasn’t optimistic that I’d make it in time since the gate I needed was far from the security checkpoint. I readjusted my purse and rushed for the escalator as fast as possible in stilettos. Even away from the scene at Paul’s loft, I still had his mother’s, Dani Crane, words echoing in my head.
“The man you’re with is not Paul Crane. He’s grieving and going through an early midlife crisis…leave and let him work through his grief alone.”
My conscience was in a battle with my heart. No one would leave a gorgeous billionaire. Except, I didn’t have a choice.
“Living in arrangements with this woman like your dad did. I can’t believe you’d do something so disgusting.”
Paul had given me many things within the bounds of ourarrangement,but it had never been about that for me. What mattered was my family, and he helped ease their financial burdens brought on by Dad’s medical bills. Not that Paul’s mother would believe that.Not that the world would believe that, either.
It was in the rare moments when I saw the real man, not just the powerful, confident, reserved man he showed the world. I saw the man who existed behind his walls and arrangement rules, beyond his insatiable passion and desire he shared during sex. That man was profoundly sad, frightened, and lonely. He had let me see beneath the surface and showed me his vulnerability. The night I got lost in Paris, he let me care for him the way I wanted to all along. I’d fallen in love with him, and I was sure he felt the same way.
But then he paid me.
That was when I understood the true meaning of being kept. It meant being kept from your lover’s heart.Lover? I let him in and gave him all I have, but he didn’t love me.
If I was honest, I was disgusted with myself. What a fool I’d been to believe someone as rich and famous as Paul would want a relationship with me. As he told Thunder Media, I was no one to him.
“No. Nadia’s not my girlfriend,” he said.
“Does that mean you’re still on the market?”
“Well, I’m not dating anyone. Yet.”
The reporter beamed at the camera. “You heard it here first, ladies. He’s still available.”
After spending countless hours in and out of bed with me—and sharing things about myself I hadn’t even told my best friend Xander—Paul made sure the world knew he was single and available. And what did I expect?I was just a virgin college student he bought to amuse himself for a while.
My vision blurred, and my throat tightened. I stumbled on the moving sidewalk, and passengers went around me, leaving me to clutch the railing.You mean a lot to me. I don’t want you to leave.No. I wanted more than that. Just maybe, I deserved more than that too.
I reached Gate 35 and could see the sign for the flight. There were no more passengers waiting to board.
“Final Call for Flight 345 to Milwaukee.” The speakers were loud, and my pulse quickened. Even though I was close, I slipped off my heels and ran barefooted, weaving through other travelers and bags in the aisle until I advanced to check-in.
“I’m on 345.” I got out between puffs of air to the flight attendant.
“Do you have carry-on luggage?”
“No, only my handbag, thank you.” I didn’t have anything because my suitcase was in the back of Paul’s car headed for St. Barts.Where he takes his escorts.
I swallowed hard and hung my head as I crossed the breezeway onto the plane.
And what an oddity I was in a paisley silk dress and bare legs. Most passengers wore layered clothing—a staple necessity for anyone traveling to the Midwest in the spring. The weather often changed from sunny to rainy, and sometimes even snow showers on any given day. But that wasn’t my only worry. What would my parents think of me showing up out of the blue?
A man stood in the aisle, and I sat in the middle seat.
I took out my phone to text them before I had to turn it off. But then I stopped.Why make them worry? I’ll explain when I get there.I was about to put it away when I checked for new texts. Only the last one I received from Paul.
Paul: You mean a lot to me. I don’t want you to leave. Please, come back, and we’ll talk this out.
But what was there left to talk about? Paul hadn’t changed his mind.
Going home was a temporary relief. I needed my parents. Needed to be with people who chose me and who loved me unconditionally. I knew that, ultimately, I’d have to make a choice. Find a more noble—less lucrative—job. Or give up on my dream of working in design in New York….
My stomach lurched as the plane lifted to altitude.Oh, no, not again. I’d vomited when I ran off from Paul’s place in Tribeca.
I gagged on the bile rising in my throat, and the light was still on to remain seated. Searching the pocket in front of me for the barf bag, my hands fumbled through the safety card and magazines.No luck.
