A quiet buzz warms my body, every sense inside of me on high alert. Stetson may be gorgeous, but he’s mistaken if he thinks I’ll jump when he tells me to.
As long as I’m able to perform to the best of my abilities at my job, I’m warranted a drink or two during flight changes. Add in the company at my side, and I’ve never been more sober.
Stetson nods, choosing not to argue. “Forget I mentioned it. I have a tendency to overstep sometimes.”
“Noted. Monty, make it a double. Please and thank you,” I encourage the bartender, reveling in the small smile he sends me, knowing I’m playing a dangerous game.
I’m not sure why I expected him to argue. All he does is laugh, and it makes me want to disobey him even more. “Not easily convinced, I see.”
Word through the grapevine is that Stetson owns a shit ton of land in Texas and is known to be the most eligible bachelor in cattle ranching, causing every flight attendant with a vagina at Seascape to beg to be the woman who locks him down.
Rest assured, she isn’t me.
Supposedly, he flies through the Miami airport a lot. Ijust haven’t seen him, likely because I’m always in the air. “What gave it away? Don’t tell me it’s my immunity to a rich man’s sparkle?”
He has yet to turn away from me, and I find that oddly comforting. My body language shows him I’m not interested in whatever charade he’s trying to play here.
Or maybe he’s not looking to play a game at all. Maybe he just enjoys the company of women. Whatever it is, it’s not my place to know.
“That’s not me,” he mumbles, and I hear the restraint in his voice. Like it was hard to admit, and something he’s not proud of.
“Then who are you? Because right now, all I see is a man who not only tried to interfere with my well-earned drink, but has also given me no reason as to why he’s still sitting here, chatting with the help.”
I study him carefully, and for a split second, the disguise drops, revealing more vulnerability than I guarantee Stetson lets anyone see. His blue eyes look tired, and I know he’s likely seen a lot of things and experienced more than most men his age. But that exhaustion only enhances how beautiful he is.
“I never did like that term,” he blows out. “You ladies work hard, and again, I’m sorry Clay acted like that. And as for who I am…I think I’m still trying to figure that out. Even at my age.”
“What could you possibly have to figure out? You’ve got it all. The money. The jet. The women. The people. The resources. I’m not finding the problem here.”
Stetson peers at me with determination. “You cater to private flights a lot, yes?” he asks me, and I nod. “So, tell me, then. When was the last time you flew with a wealthy client who smiled and laughed? And I’m not talking about some fake shit to save face.”
I think about his question, but it doesn’t take much effort. “I’m not sure I ever have.”
Most flights are formal and consist of meetings I need to be out of earshot for. The only time I’m summoned is when they want something or need to complain.
“My point exactly. Money and things do not equal happiness, Cove. I love my job, and I’ve worked hard to build this life for myself. The ranch is my home. But when I lie my head down at night, I’m not fulfilled. It’s a feeling I search for with every direction I lead myself in. I’ve seen what dependence on wealth for happiness can do to someone, and I want nothing to do with it. So, yes. I’m still trying to figure out who I amwiththe wealth that I have. That’s just an added perk in my life. It’s what I do with that wealth that makes me different.”
I was not expecting that. An answer so vulnerable and honest.
“I respect that,” I tell him before taking a sip of my martini. “It takes a lot to be different in our world. I only ever see the worst sides of it, which makes me more cynical than I’d like to be. But I hope for your sake, you figure that out. Become who you want to be. Even as an old man.” I smile, attempting to lighten the conversation. I don’t want to dive deep into the personal with him.
He huffs, shaking his head solemnly. “I guess time will tell, huh?”
“You make being rich sound so fun,” I admit cautiously, partially joking and partially not. “What’s the worst part? Because from my point of view, the cons list seems microscopic.”
We have less than an hour until boarding, and this was supposed to be my time to disassociate until it’s back to work. But something about his response and the conflict in his voice makes me think he needs someone to just listen.
Monty offers to replenish my drink, but I decline, knowing I’ve reached my max to work efficiently and clearheaded.
“Being the person everyone expects me to be gets really fucking exhausting.” I swing to face him, knowing exactly how to respond.
“But this is the life you wanted, is it not?” I counter.
He nods. “Coleson Ranch was my late father’s. He passed it on to me. It’s much more than a job for me, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t come at a cost.”
I was wondering if that was the case. I admire the hustle. There’s sacrifice with everything. My life is a walking testimony of that.
“Pretty big role to fill. I can’t imagine how much of a weight that came with. How does one become so wealthy as a cattle rancher, anyway?”
