Running From Destiny (21 page)

“Yes.
Fine.” I tell him, but I don’t look at him.

“A
lexandra, look at me.” He says as his thumb brushes across my bottom lip, which was between my teeth, now plump because of me chewing on it.

I loo
k at him and his face softens. “I’m sorry, I forgot you don’t like to fly.” He apologizes.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind flying. It’s taking off and landing I don’t like. I’ve never been in a plane like this, so I’m a bit nervous.” Speaking of being nervous, I ask him in a shaky voice, “Who’s flying this thing?”

He laughs.
Not a chuckle or a snicker, but a full on laugh. “Porter King, my co-pilot. Don’t worry, he usually flies the plane by himself. I don’t get to pilot the plane much, so I took advantage of it today.” He smiles at me.

I sink back into my seat and try
to relax. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. “How long is the flight?” I ask him.

“About two hours. When we land
, a car will pick us up and take us to your hotel. We have a fund raiser to attend tonight, so my assistant will have some evening gowns delivered to your room and someone to help with getting you ready.”

What he has just told me doesn’t register in my
brain at first, so I just nod. After a minute, I realize what he just said. “Wait, what?” All I heard was evening gown and fund raiser. “What are you talking about?” I know I must look frazzled between the flight and what he has just told me. Heather would be in Seventh Heaven right about now, she lives for this stuff. I can’t help but wonder how Heather would handle this situation. I wish I could call her and tell her, in fact I probably need to because she will be worried.

I get lost in my thoughts so I completely forge
t what Jackson told me earlier. “Did you say fundraiser?” I ask him.

“Yes, I created a charitable organization to help young girls and women with eat
ing disorders and other issues. This is the opening gala benefiting the Set in Stone Foundation.” I realize this is for Madison Stone and I suck in a breath.

“Jackson, I am so sor
ry about what happened to her. You are an admirable man for doing this, and I’m honored, though a bit taken aback, to accompany you to this gala. But, aren’t you worried about how this will look?” I ask him.

“What are you talking about?”

“This is a benefit for your ex fiancé and you arrive with another woman on your arm? At something like this, don’t you need to worry about what people will think?”

“I don’t care what people think, Alexandra
. I want you with me tonight. I’m speaking during the dinner and what I have to say will explain a lot of things to you. I told you I would make this right with you, and I will. I want to do this and I want you with me. You may not believe this, but I have very strong feelings for you and there is no one else I want with me during this important gala. Please, Alexandra. Please join me?”

“Why didn’t you mention this to me before we left my office?” I ask.

“Cause I knew you’d say no, and I wasn’t going to accept that.”

He looks so vulnerable.
Something I’ve never seen in him before. If I am not mistaken, I can see moisture in his eyes, like he’s about to cry or something. But as soon as I notice it, it’s gone. He blinks away the tear and looks at me. I nod my head agreeing to attend with him.

Missy comes by with the bottle of
wine and a glass for Jackson. He takes it, nodding his thank you to the flight attendant, pours himself a glass and refills mine. “Aren’t you flying the plane, Mr. Bentley?” I ask him, smirking.

“Porter can land it.
I’ll stay with you and hold your hand, since you’re scared.” He laughs. I smack him on the shoulder.

“I am not scared!”
But he says nothing, just smiles at me. Bright, white teeth are exposed and he looks so carefree. “Okay, Ally, but I’m staying with you. Porter is more than capable of landing Lola.”

“Why Lola?” I ask.

“Lola was our housekeeper when I was growing up. My parents were always busy with work or community events, so Lola practically raised me. She passed away 6 years ago from breast cancer.” He tells me.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She was an amazing woman and fabulous cook. Always kept me full and happy. She’d take me to football practice or to friends’ houses. She was like a fill in mother. She made sure my sister and I had all we needed.” This is the first I have heard about his family.

“You have a sister?” I ask and he nods, “Tell me about her.”

“Dani is an oncologist in Atlanta. You’ll get to meet her and her husband tonight, they flew up yesterday. She adored Lola, so she chose oncology as her specialty in a tribute to her and our mother, who also died from cancer. I named a plane after her.” He chuckles. “Her husband is Anthony, or Tony as I call him. He’s an aviation engineer with Lockheed Martin. He actually helped me purchase Lola.”

“Do they have any kids?” I ask him.

“Not yet, but they’ve been trying for a while. Her job is so stressful that I believe it is hindering her conceiving. If it doesn’t happen soon, she is going to take a leave of absence to try harder. They want like four kids or something and she’s in her mid-thirties. Guess they may have to settle for one or two huh?” He says.

“So she’s older?” I ask.
I can’t believe he is divulging so much personal information, so I am soaking it up like a sponge and I want to know more. “Yes, by two years. How old did you think I was?” He turns the tables on me.

“I figured early thirties or so.” I don’t tell him that I know he is thirty three,
because he’ll know I’ve been reading up on him again. “I’m usually a good judge of that kinda stuff, just don’t ask me how much you weigh, because I’m not a circus freak or anything.” I roll my eyes at him while he looks at me in amazement. Why? I’m not sure. He takes my hand and rubs my knuckles.

“No, Alexandra.
You are definitely not a circus freak. I think you’re beautiful.”

Heat crawls up t
he back of my neck as I blush. “And you’re especially beautiful when you blush. I could look at you all day.” He says. Okay, now I’m a dark red, no longer a rosy shade of pink. How does he do this to me?

The pilot announces that we will be descending into
JFK and for us to buckle up. Jackson grabs the belt and straps himself in. I have never unbuckled, so I’m all set. I down the rest of my wine and hand the glass to Missy who has come by to collect the glasses and the now empty bottle.

Landing is not as smooth in this small plane as it is in a commercial plane, but with Jackson next to me
holding my hand, I survive it. After we have stopped, the doors open to the plane and we exit right out on to the tarmac where a limo is waiting for us. I suck in a breath, amazed to the power that this man has. I always knew wealthy people lived like this, but I never imagined I would see it firsthand.

Once we’re in the limo, Jackson gets on his phone talking
to someone, I don’t know who. Sounds like he is making plans but I try not to listen to him. We arrive a short time later at The Mark Hotel in Manhattan. I haven’t paid much attention to Jackson as I have been looking out the window at the tall buildings and all of the craziness of New York City. Since I have never been here before, I am enthralled at what I am seeing.

As we enter the hotel
, I am totally blown away again. Shiny black and white striped marble floors. Sleek black concierge desk and comfortable furniture. This was a designers dream. We check in and head to the elevators where Jackson presses ten. “I’ve decided to stay here too, instead of my apartment.” He tells me as I realize he only booked one room. “Relax, Alexandra. It has two bedrooms. You take the master and I’ll take the spare. Unless......” He drifts off.

He swipes the card and opens the door, m
otioning for me to enter first. I stop dead in my tracks. What have I gotten myself into? This is not a hotel. This is an apartment, fully furnished and eloquently designed. The living area is bigger than my entire apartment back home. A dining room and kitchen are to our right, with custom cabinets and top of the line appliances. Jackson leads me to the master bedroom to our left. On the floor next to the bed are two Bergdorf Goodman bags, which appear full to the rim.

He shows me the bathroom which is black and white, large soaking
tub and separate glass shower. “What is this?” I ask, pointing to a ladder looking rack on the wall.

“It’s a towel warmer.
Haven’t you seen one before?” He replies. I just shake my head in denial. I can’t believe things like this exist in the world.

He opens the closet door and there are four evening gowns hanging there, a
ll in heavy cloth garment bags. “You should find everything you need in here, Alexandra. If you need anything, just press zero on the phone for the front desk. They will send up whatever you need. But, you have an appointment in the Frederic Fekkai salon in thirty minutes. Try on these dresses and pick the one you want to wear tonight and I’ll take you downstairs.” And he turns to leave.

I immediately think of Heather and realize she is pro
bably worried as hell about me. I’ve been so overwhelmed by all of this that I forgot about her. I grab my phone from my purse and turn it on. Once I have a signal the text messages start dinging. Eight messages from Heather and two voicemails. Instead of texting her back, I call her.

“Ally? Oh my God! Where the hell are you? I’ve been so worried! No one knew where you were! What’s going on, where are you?” She’s obviously frantic.

“Easy, H. I’m fine. I’m in New York with Jackson.” There.
I’ve said it, now for the wrath of Heather to commence.

“You went?
I thought you decided not to go? What did he do to change your mind?” Leave it to Heather to be suspicious. I give her all the details from meeting me in the parking garage to Jackson flying his private jet and now I am about to drop the bomb on the dresses.

“There are four dresses here he wants me to choose from
for a charity benefit tonight. I’m going to try on each one and send you a text so you can help me pick the right one.” I tell her.

Once Heather has calmed down and breathing normally again, I set the phone down and grab t
he first bag out of the closet. After trying on each one and texting pics to Heather, we decide on the Herve Leger fire engine red scoop neck gown. I pair it with Armani sandals with crystals on them. I wasn’t sure how long I would be able to walk in them, but they are gorgeous! I then choose the Judith Leiber metallic clutch to put a few things in like, lipstick and ID.

I had just finished placing the items back in the closet and getting dressed when Jackson knocked, reminding me
of my appointment at the salon. Boy, the rich and famous sure do live the life, don’t they? I already feel so out of place here because I definitely do not fit the bill. But it’s for Jackson, and for Madison. So I swallow my pride, heading out to the living quarters of the suite, and follow Jackson back downstairs to the salon.

The stylist quickly pulled my hair into a
French twist, something that wouldn’t have been able to have been done had I not grown my hair out. Then my makeup was done and I was ready to go. I tried to pay at the exit, but was told it was all taken care of. Damn, I don’t want Jackson spending this much money on me, but I choose not to argue for now, because I damn sure can’t afford this on my own.

I come out of the salon and Jackson is nowhere to be seen.
I head back up to the room to see if he is there, and he is not. But I do find a note attached to the mirror in the bathroom.

Get ready. I’ll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes. The gala is here in the hotel.

Now, my nerves were shot. I had to get this dress and shoes on without messing up my hair. I need to take a shower, but I opt for a long soak in the tub. Well, not as long as I would have liked, because the bath products provided by the hotel are amazing. I scent up, shave and dry off, all without messing up my hair. I mentally pat myself on the back for that, since I tend to muck things up easily.

I dig into the Bergdor
f bags and find nice lingerie. How he knew my size, I will never know. That’s a question to ask him later. Right now I am running late, so I have to choose something. I choose a lacy cream bra with a front closure that lifts and separates my oversized girl’s just right. The dress is form fitting, so I choose to not wear panties and I wonder if Jackson will notice. I’m not comfortable not wearing panties, but I refuse to have panty lines. There are a couple of thongs in the bags, but I can’t stand butt floss.

Once I am dressed and ready to go downstairs, I text Heather a picture of me in the floor length mirror.

H - Hot damn!
U look hot!

A - It’s not too much?

H - Fuck no! The Suit is going to come in his pants!

A - Haha, don’t know about that

H - Seriously babe, you look amazing

A - Thx.
Gotta go. Text u later.