3 BOOK BUNDLE: Flown By The Billionaire I, II, & III Read Free Page A

and
would ask me to come and sit with him.
    I did try to make conversation. “Is that a Nathan Altman in
the bedroom?” I asked, standing even though he’d asked me to take a seat in one
of the large lounge-style chairs near the front of the cabin.
    “Yes,” he smiled, loosening his tie and leaning back into
his own seat. “Are you a fan of his?”
    “Umm,” I responded hesitantly. “Yeah,” I shrugged. “He’s
produced some interesting work. I like some of his early Cubist stuff.”
    His eyes lighting up, he nodded. “You studied art?”
    “Only for a year in college,” I dismissed. “I enjoyed it,
but my parents didn’t think it would lead to a proper career. Of course, they
weren’t happy with the career I ended up in, either,” I added with a
self-deprecating chuckle.
    “Financial services, right?” he asked, sitting forward and
resting his elbows on his thighs.
    “Yeah,” I replied, realizing that I’d done exactly what I’d
sworn not to do and begun to talk about myself. “Anyway,” I quickly added, “I’m
sure you don’t want to hear about that. Can I get you another coffee?”
    “No, I’m fine,” he responded. “Please, sit down. We’ve got
another hour until we land and I don’t want to sit here talking to myself.”
    “Shouldn’t I be working?” I suggested, pointing to the rear
of the cabin.
    “There’s nothing to do,” he shrugged.
    Relenting, I sat down in the chair opposite him and, as he carefully
steered the subject back to art, we began to talk.***
    A s the days turned to weeks,
our conversations became more frequent. Alex was often flying alone and he’d
usually ask me to sit with him on both the outbound and return journey. Perhaps
inevitably, conversation did turn to private matters and I found myself telling
him about my experiences at an all-girls’ school and my time at college.
    He, in turn, told me about the boarding school his parents
sent him to. And then, suddenly, our chat took an unexpected turn.  As we were
sitting next to each other on the couch, his body slightly turned toward mine
and elbow propped on the back of the seat. “I met my wife when we were both
freshmen in college,” he sighed.
    “Oh,” I blurted, unable to disguise my surprise. “I didn’t
realize you were married.”
    “I’m not any more,” he explained. “We’re divorced,” he
breathed, his eyes drifting to the floor in thought.
    “I’m sorry,” I offered, not knowing what else to say.
    “It’s okay,” he responded, forcing a smile. “These things
happen. And I don’t suppose we were really well-suited in the first place. My
parents wanted me to marry her and…” he drifted to a stop, before shaking his
head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I do miss Fin, though.”
    “Fin?” I repeated.
    “My son,” he explained, smiling as he reached into his
pocket and retrieved his wallet. Opening it, he offered it to me and I gently
took it between my finger and thumb. The little boy in the picture must have
been about three; he was a miniature version of his father, with big brown eyes
and dark hair that was a little messy.
    “He looks lovely,” I said, giving the wallet back to him.
    “Thanks,” he grinned. “He’s not always that sweet,” he added
laughing. “But…umm, I miss the little guy anyway.”
    “You don’t get to see him much?”
    “No, not as much as I’d like,” he softly announced. “Things
between me and my ex are strained, so she makes it as tough as she can for me
to see him.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said, sincerely.
    Looking up, his eyes met mine and remained there for a long
moment. “Thank you for sitting here and listening to me,” Alex murmured softly.
“I umm…” he began, his right hand moving forward and settling on my knee.
    It wasn’t an advance, it wasn’t a remotely sexual touch, but
the very fact that he’d touched me caused me to jump as though I’d been hit by lightning.
    Snatching his hand back, he quickly