Chapter Four
Two days later on D-Day, Carla tried to suppress her excitement. Falcon sent a limo to bring her to the airport. The last 48 hours was a whirlwind that she couldn’t believe she was finally on her way. This felt like the beginning of a new adventure, an adventure where she had to keep her head screwed on straight and never forget that Falcon was in the picture.
Knowing they would be together sent a thrill down her spine. She couldn’t help it. Yet the fear was never far away. Admittedly, she hardly knew anything about him.
“He’s great in bed, that’s one. Look at where it got me,” she muttered deprecatingly.
Falcon was like a drug she craved but could never have. She had to keep things professional between them, she vowed.
The airport was up ahead and her heart beat faster. But the driver left the main road and turned into a dirt road where a series of squat buildings appeared.
“Where are we going?” Carla asked surprised.
“Mr. Manchester is waiting for us in his private hangar,” the driver replied.
Carla gulped. OF course, Falcon would never fly commercial. It was confirmed when the limo headed straight for a streamlined jet, its white wide body shimmering in the sunlight. A limo similar to hers was parked beside the plane. An uniformed driver opened the trunk and unloaded luggage. Her driver parked beside the limo, alit and did the same with her bags.
Falcon came into view just as the driver opened the limo door for her. Carla was glad she opted to wear a good pair of jeans and a stylish shirt with a slim belt. Her nude colored heels complemented the tote bag she held in her hand.
Falcon wore a white crisp shirt with dark chinos under a thin overcoat with upturned collar. His hair blew gently in the breeze while stylish aviators shielded his eyes from the sun. He looked like a movie star.
“Carla,” he greeted her.
“Hi,” she replied, “I wasn’t expecting this.” She motioned to the jet.
“It makes traveling easier,” he replied simply. “Shall we?”
Carla was ushered into an interior that took her breath away. Panoramic windows on both sides allowed abundant sunlight into the cabin. Carla guessed the seats were made of handcrafted leather. The color scheme was a beautiful shade of neutral with darker trims that resonated throughout the entire aircraft. The galley towards the back of the plane was hidden from view but Carla noticed gleaming appliances from the partially opened doorway.
Falcon led her to a seat that had more leg room than her apartment. “I’ll discuss the flight plan with the pilot then we can be on our way to Paris, he informed her. “The whole trip should take no longer than 7 hours,” he added.
7 hours cooped inside the limited space of a plane with Falcon was going to challenge her equilibrium, Carla mused.
A flight stewardess arrived carrying a tray with a glass of champagne.
“Thank you,” Carla smiled. She needed the bubbly desperately. “Overwhelmed” was an understatement. If she had any doubts about Falcon’s financial worth, all doubts had been erased. Everything about him, the jet, the limo, the property in France, made her feel more out of his league.
He emerged from the cockpit and headed straight to where she sat. Carla tensed when he came close and groped the back of her seat.
“We’re about to take off,” he said, and clicked her seatbelt into place.
He took the seat in front of her and strapped himself in. The same flight attendant reappeared with another glass of champagne which he refused.
Are we gonna stare at each other the whole flight?
Thankfully, he retrieved a laptop from his briefcase and started to work.
A silent flight, then. Fine!
Carla didn’t know which she preferred. She just had to follow his lead. This was his show, not hers. Yet she felt piqued because he intended to ignore her the whole flight. She searched her tote for a book to read and was glad she packed “The Vintage Home: A Guide to Successful Renovation” inside the bag. She grabbed the copy earlier hoping to learn something new for the task ahead.
Carla felt the powerful thrum of the engine as the Gulfstream taxied the runway. She experienced a sudden weightlessness and knew they were off the ground. She stole glances at her travelling companion whose attention was focused on the screen of his Mac. His brows were furrowed at whatever was on the screen.
Suddenly he looked up and their eyes met. Carla flushed, looked down, and pretended reading as she casually turned a page.
“Vintage houses, huh?” Falcon commented.
“I just wish I had an idea what I would be dealing with in the property.” She replied.
