Take Me Down (Suits in Pursuit) (19 page)

The plane began to move, and she exhaled a breath.

“Flight attendants, prepare for takeoff,” the pilot announced.

The plane taxied to the runway. She made her escape on the last flight out. Another exhaled breath. Being with Sebastian rocked her to the core. Last night was a mistake, the beginning of an obsession.

Flight attendants and beverage carts moved up and down the aisles.

“Miss, would you like a drink?” A platinum-blond flight attendant stood nearby.

Ashley glance at the assortment of drinks on her tray. “Yes!” She hadn’t meant to sound as eager or loud as she did. “I’ll take the strongest drink you have.” Ashley handed a twenty-dollar bill to the flight attendant. “Here. Keep the change.”

The woman’s questioning eyes focused on her task. “Coming right up.”

Ten minutes had passed. Ashley placed the iPad on the tray next to the empty cup. She thrummed her fingers on the cold hard plastic. A hesitant tap clicked on the saved article link. The article she had intended to read about Sebastian Stone before the site went down. The little wheel at the corner of the browser window spun. Words and images began to appear. Now, thousands of miles in the air and away from him, she had nothing better to do. She read the headline again.

Stone tragedy makes investors nervous; partner in rehab.

Nausea rolled through her belly as she scrolled down the page.

The sudden and tragic death of Ellie Stone, late wife of Sebastian Stone, president and chief executive officer of commercial real estate investment firm Wooster, Holman, and Stone (WHS), made investors nervous. Stone, who admitted publicly to developing a drinking problem following his wife’s alleged suicide in March, has spearheaded ten of the firm’s largest mergers and acquisitions and brokered deals with at least half a dozen fortune 500 companies to relocate their corporate headquarters. Stone played a strategic role in taking the company public in 2010. In a statement, Angela Whitman, spokesperson for WHS said, “The board is saddened by the sudden passing of Ellie Stone. Our deepest sympathies go out to the Stone family during this difficult time. Mr. Stone is receiving the best possible treatment for his addiction and recovery. The board remains fully prepared to act in the best interest of its shareholders.”

The constricted feeling in her chest spread like an inkblot on porous paper. Her heart, as black and hard as obsidian, crumbled. She stared blankly at the screen, not able to believe what she had read. She had made a horrible mistake. Suddenly, in a lapse of control, salty tears stung her eyes and burned her cheeks. She wept quietly, taking shallow breaths between sobs.

Sebastian wasn’t a saint, but he hadn’t been involved in shady business dealings. He was a man battered and broken by life, her equal in pain and suffering. She remembered the text message that had made her upset. If Sebastian were anything like her, he would do whatever he could in an attempt to avoid getting too close to another woman, including reducing women to mere objects. A talent she also acquired regarding men.

She wept quietly, taking shallow breaths between sobs.

A hand came down on her shoulder. “Miss, are you all right? Can I get you anything?” the flight attendant asked and then handed her a tissue.

“Thank you,” she said, sobbing harder. “I’m sorry. Excuse me.” Ashley leaped up and dashed toward the back of the plane.

She shoved her way past a woman blocking the aisle and locked herself up in the small restroom.

Fate, if the thing existed, had been cruel to bring two injured souls together in a bond of grief for lovers long gone.

She splashed water on her face, staring into the mirror at red eyes and puffy cheeks.

Guilt. It festered deep in her belly. Replaced the memory of their passion.

Her chest felt heavy, like the walls caved in on her heart. What had she done? Ashley raked her hair, pulled her head back. The walls of the sky vessel closed in, suffocating her. Both hands covered her face in shame and horror. Had she destroyed a good man?

“Help! Somebody, help!” Sebastian yelled as loud as his voice would carry. “I’m trapped!” He heard voices in the hallway, on the other side of the door. “I’m in here. Hurry!”

The knob jiggled. Seconds later, three women and a man stood at the threshold, gaping at him.

“¡Ay dios mío!”
a petite Hispanic woman with thick curly hair exclaimed, immediately shielding her eyes with her forearm. After the initial shock, she seemed quite comfortable to fix her eyes on him, particularly below the waist.

Sebastian couldn’t believe Ashley left him cuffed to the headboard in the nude. “I need help. My girlfriend locked me up. We had a disagreement, and she left me here.” His tongue slipped, calling Ashley his girlfriend. She would never earn that title. Not after this.

“Uh, I’ll go see if we have… um, maybe a key or something to cut off those handcuffs.” The man, whose arm covered his face, must have been a maintenance worker. He fled on winged feet, shutting the door behind him.

The woman, whom the others referred to as Maria, walked closer. “My English no very good. Understand?” she asked.

“Si. I understand. My español isn’t very good either, so we’re even.”

Eyes as black as her hair wandered down below Sebastian’s waist again. Maria blushed.

“Maria?” His voice forced her attention to his face. What was the point? She didn’t understand him anyway.
Oh, what the hell!
He’d try anything at this point. “My wrists hurt. Can you adjust the cuffs?”

She stared blankly. Didn’t answer his question. She didn’t understand him.

“Sir, why you locked up?” Wrinkled lines formed across her forehead, as she struggled to find the right words. “Um, how long?”

Sebastian shook his head. “That’s a great question, Maria. I don’t know why I’m locked up. I’ve been screaming for help for the past four hours. I missed my flight. I need to go to the airport to catch the next flight out.”

Maria shook her head. “No es good, sir. Flights cancelados,” she said in Spanglish.

Another woman, standing in the doorway, spoke up. “That’s right. All flights are canceled due to the storm. Hurricane Alba will arrive early, making landfall tomorrow morning,” she said, walking toward them. She reached down and draped a blanket across his waist. “I’m Isadora.” At least she didn’t seem content to ogle his naked body.

“Isadora, Maria. I’m Sebastian Stone. I’d shake your hands, but, well, as you can see, they’re a little occupied.”

Both women shook their heads. Maria blushed. Isadora did not.

“Yes, Mr. Stone. I know who you are. We are going room to room, evacuating guests to the shelter. Since no one can leave the Keys…” Isadora said.

He cut her off. “So, it’s true? All flights are canceled?” Sebastian’s voice raised. “How am I going to get back to Atlanta?”

Isadora pointed at him, wagging her finger. “Mr. Stone, this is a serious storm. We have to leave the hotel. Well, as soon as we find something to break open those handcuffs.” Her stare landed on his cuffed wrists.

Still shackled, agitated and losing patience, Sebastian scuffled against the headboard. “I need a phone. Can you get a phone?” He asked.

Isadora shook her head again, and the maintenance man returned, bursting through the door in a bustle. “Sir, all circuits are busy and have been for the past couple of hours,” she said.

Banging his head back against the headboard, “Ugh!” he released an exasperated sigh.

Charles, as the man’s name tag stated, rushed to the bed and began testing the lock, using a makeshift device. He met Sebastian’s curious stare. “My brother’s a locksmith.”

Sebastian watched Charles and then turned back to Isadora, pleading. “You don’t understand. I have a presentation to make on Monday in Atlanta. I need to be there.”

Both hands placed on her hips, “No, sir, you don’t understand. You’re not going anywhere for at least another three days.”

“Mr. Stone,” Maria said, pulling his attention away from the photographs mounted on the wall. “You eat now.” She motioned to a table where a steaming hot bowl of soup awaited.

Sebastian found her kind eyes. “Thank you, Maria. You have a lovely family. I’m grateful for your generosity.” He glanced around the tiny room. Maria lived in a small two-bedroom house with her three teenaged children.

“Si, Mr. Stone.” She turned to a tall, lanky boy whose black eyes were just like hers. She mumbled something in Spanish.

Roberto, Maria’s eldest son, acted as her translator. “Mom says she couldn’t leave you to roam the streets, and the shelters are full.”

Sebastian stretched his legs under the table. He rubbed the swollen welts on his wrists left by the handcuffs and then pulled out his cell phone. He couldn’t make sense of what happened. The look in Ashley’s eyes as she left him there haunted him. She was hurt, devastated. He thought they had reached a new plateau considering the night they shared. At least for him, the evening had been spectacular.

Sebastian hit send on his text message to Stephen.

All flights out are canceled. I will miss the meeting. I need you to buy more time.

A few hours later, the hurricane made landfall.

Roberto, who appeared to be about fourteen, stared at him with wonder. The boy sat across from Sebastian. “What’s Atlanta like? I bet you don’t get storms like this, do you?”

Inside, candlelight and the aroma of homemade chicken noodle soup had been comforting. Outside, the wind howled, beating fiercely against the metal storm shutters. The eerie sound reminded Sebastian that despite the peaceful calm of Maria’s house, outside raged a monster.

He smiled at the boy. “No, Roberto, we sure don’t get weather like this in Atlanta.”

“That must be great,” Roberto said, “To never have to worry about putting up storm shutters. I hate putting them up.”

Sebastian frowned. That should have been a task for a man, not a boy. “Where is your father?”

He rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. Don’t care. My parents immigrated to the U.S. when I was five. He left us a couple of years later.”

Sebastian stared at Maria’s peaceful face. Despite whatever hardship she endured, she didn’t shrink away from life as he did. She seemed to have risen above despair. Even now, she willingly took in a stranger, a formerly naked and bound man, and extended open arms.

“Please let your mother know that I would like to repay her kindness.”

Roberto relayed the message as Sebastian scribbled on a piece of paper.

Maria’s face lit up, her one-hundred-watt smile brightening the room. “No, sir. You no pay.”

Sebastian leaned across the table and handed her a check. “I hope this covers my stay and helps you a bit.”

Maria’s eyes doubled in size. She handed the check to Roberto, whose expression matched hers. He said something to her in Spanish and tears cradled in her eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Stone. Gracias. God bless you.”

For Sebastian, writing a check for ten thousand dollars equated to most people writing a check for five hundred dollars. Sebastian was glad to give her the money, but more importantly, Maria and her family would be able to put the money to good use.

He smiled. Maria inspired him. “You are a kind and courageous woman. The world needs more people like you.”

Roberto translated Sebastian’s sentiment. Maria smiled back and replied in Spanish. “Mom says she isn’t courageous. She is simply being there for those who needed her,” Roberto repeated in English.

He thought of Ashley again, remembered the pain he saw inside her. She needed him. Whatever he did to anger her, he would find out. Whatever the problem, he would find a resolution. Whatever his infraction, he would right the wrong. He could be a better man. He could be the man Ashley needed.