Chapter 10 Arrival
ALICE
Friday came sooner than I expected.
Because the flight was after work, I had to keep my luggage in my car, and then I drove to the airport to meet with Mr. Linden-Hawthorne. He had a meeting before closing time, which he went alone to, so I had to make my own way there.
I parked my car outside the airport, then headed inside.
The jet was already waiting on the tarmac. I passed the travel lounge, ignoring the tempting smell of coffee coming from the bar, and I stepped outside to reach the plane.
I looked up and saw him watching me from the window. I tried to ignore how my nerves were all shot to hell, but ended up pausing at the bottom of the steps. What was I doing here? Was I really going to travel to a whole ass foreign country with Theodore Linden-Hawthorne, my asshole of a boss who clearly hadn't forgotten that one drunken encounter that ruined my life?
What was I thinking? Did I even know what I was signing up for at this point?
Breathing in deeply, I went in. We made eye contact and he gestured at the plush leather seat across from him. I sat down, and a flight attendant took my suitcase from me with a smile before offering me a seat.
I was so uncomfortable. I wondered what I might look like to him.
"Miss Rhodes," he began. "Are you well?"
"Yes. Thanks."
I asked for some coffee, hoping it would help me with my nerves. Unsurprisingly, coffee just made me more jittery. Thank fuck for that.
Mr. Linden-Hawthorne was more relaxed than I had ever seen him. He removed his tie and was nursing a whiskey in his hand. The flight attendant, a very kind blonde named Jessica, asked me if I wanted anything else.
"No, thank—"
"Bring her some champagne."
"No," I said a little too quickly. "No, thanks. I don't want anything."
His narrowed eyes met mine. "Have some, Miss Rhodes. We're not exactly in the office, in case you haven't noticed."
I remembered what happened the last time I had a little too much champagne, and I had a feeling he did, too. Nope. I wasn't going to fall for that propaganda. "I'm fine. Thank you."
A ghost of a smile curved his lips and he brought the glass up to his lips and kept on watching me in that infuriating way of his that made me red in the face. It was like I could tell what he was thinking every time he looked at me, and it made me think about the same thing, too.
And I really didn't want to do that.
Why?
Because whenever I did, a big, whorish part of me had to admit that his kiss was the best—I'd never been kissed or touched that way before by anyone, and it made me shiver from head to toe because I knew a thought like this wouldn't lead to anything good.
But he was a damn good kisser.
He was so fucking stone cold that I would never have guessed. Genuinely. And how would I know that a mouth that opened to spit venom at his inferiors could bring me so much pleasure from just a kiss?
I shrugged my thoughts off when I saw his smile widen, and felt even more embarrassed that I had been staring at him this entire time. Asshole.
"Tell me about yourself, Miss Rhodes."
His request caught me off guard and filled me with a mix of dread and fear. "Myself?"
He brought his glass up to his lips again. "That's what I said, isn't it?"
What was this now? "I...There's really nothing to say, sir."
"There's always something to say."
I cleared my throat. "Well, I graduated in—"
"No," he said quickly before I could even think about finishing my sentence. "I don't want to know about what's in your CV. I've taken a look at that before."
Of course, he had.
"Your life outside of work. That's what I'm interested in."
I asked quickly, "Why?"
He stared at me for a long time. "You like being difficult, don't you? Do you know what I do with difficult women, Miss Rhodes?"
Again, he drank whiskey, and this time, he watched me over the rim of the glass. I couldn't deny how I felt at his words. My whole body seemed to get tighter. Tenser. I stared right back at him, and heat flooded my entire body.
I once again had the feeling that coming on this trip was a bad, bad idea.
But there was no turning back now, so what was the point of even thinking about it?
Nine hours later, we were in Helsinki. It was ten in the morning and I barely got any sleep on the jet, so I was exhausted.
But the meeting would be in an hour, so there'd be no resting for us.
A sleek black SUV was waiting for us on the runway, and Mr. Linden-Hawthorne and I got in the backseat. Things were awkward now. Then again, what did I expect? Before this whole mess unfolded, he barely said two words to me, and when he did, he was humiliating me in some way.
Now, after that whole...misunderstanding...everything just got worse.
We were headed to the only place I found away from the city that was worthy of the great Theodore Linden-Hawthorne—a ridiculously expensive Airbnb in the middle of nowhere. Of course, he approved the booking. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any suitable hotels. Everything was fully booked, no doubt because it was still early January.
The owner, a very kind short, and stocky woman, was waiting for us at the entrance. She showed us around the place, and I was grateful for how big the place was. The photos online didn't do it justice.
This place was amazing. It was a whole other level of wealth.
Mr. Linden-Hawthorne didn't blink once, or look as impressed as I did. This was also expected. Once she left, I chose the room farthest away from the master bedroom, which was the room I assumed he chose for himself.
"Don't take long, Miss Rhodes. We have to leave soon," he said out loud as I reached the staircase.
I didn't answer him and continued to my room. I threw myself on the extremely comfortable bed and let out a sigh. My head started spinning right away. I was sure that if I let my eyelids shut, I would fall asleep. I couldn't do that.
I only had time to freshen up in the bathroom. I did my hair and applied some more makeup, and then I was good to go.
My asshole of a boss was already looking at his watch impatiently when I came down. He gave me a quick once-over, not sure why, and then hurried toward the door without saying anything.
I followed quietly and hoped that, after the meeting, we would come back here so I could sleep.
I couldn't wait for this trip to end. Though it was exciting to be in a country I hadn't visited before, I was too anxious about being close to him.
Under the same roof.
I shrugged these thoughts off and focused on the job I had ahead of me.
Maybe all this paranoia was unfounded, and things would turn out okay.
I was counting on that.