Running From Destiny Read online

  The Suit does things to me no man ever has before. He’s made me realize that....no, he hasn’t. Never mind. I shake my head and banish those thoughts. “Get a hold of yourself, Al.

  No man is worth it. You’re happy and successful, single. Yes. Single. That’s how I want to be right now. I’m focused on my career and don’t have time for anything else. Much.”

  I look at my watch. Shit. Five minutes until boarding. My phone dings and I look at the text. Of course, it’s from Heather.

  H-“Get ur ass back, pln is brding.”

  I dry my hands and hurry back to the gate, thankful again that the restroom was right here and not all the way down the terminal.

  First class is boarding and I don’t see Heather, so I get in line and wait for the attendant to scan my boarding pass. As I venture down the tunnel toward the plane, I glance at my ticket to get my seat number. One A, great. Front row. As I approach I don’t see Heather, but after I look around I see her on the second row, to my right. I looked at my pass again, yep. One A.

  “What are you doing over there?” I ask her.

  “This is my seat, see?” She thrust her ticket in my face.

  “We aren’t sitting together?” Before she had time to answer, her eyes light up. They seem to be doing that a lot lately.

  “Have a seat, Alexandra.” I jerk around and there he is and for once more in my life, I’m speechless.

  He stands there looking at me. A devious smirk spread across his lips. My emotions flipfrom pissed off toOh My God. My eyes are wide and my mouth hangs open. So not a good look for me. I slowly sit down, not closing my mouth. He sits down beside me after placing his belongings in the overhead. Then he turns to me.

  Oh no.

  His thumb and index finger drift under my chin, effectively closing my mouth. “Careful. Bugs are going to fly in if you don’t shut it.” He whispers. So I close my mouth, only to open it again. I know I must look like a fish gasping for water, but I can’t help it. I look back to Heather and cringe at the satisfied look on her face. She sticks her tongue out at me and giggles.

  “Did you know about this?” I mouth at her over the seats. Her jaw drops in an attempt to look innocent. “Heather!” I groan in frustration and turn back facing forward, just in time for the Flight Attendant to ask if we want anything to drink. “Shiraz.” I answer, at the same time Jackson answers.

  “Water, for both of us please.” He smiles at the flight attendant, who instantly seems infatuated with The Suit. “I need you sober for the conversation we’re about to have, Alexandra.”

  “ALLY! My name is ALLY, please do not call me Alexandra, I hate it!” I cry as his thumb brushes my cheek.

  “You sure are cute when you are angry. Ally.”

  “I am not angry. Confused, frustrated, yes. But not angry.” I turn to glare at Heather again. Resigned, I take the cup of water the attendant hands me. “Thank you.”

  I sit quietly throughout the taxi and take off of the plane, content to stare out the window and dream about ways to jump out of this plane. I look under the seat. Nope, no parachute.

  The Suit didn’t speak much either. He was deep in something on his iPad and ignoring me, which I was okay with because I had nothing to say to him. I close my eyes and his scent wafts under my nose. Shit. I didn’t need to be smelling that. Too much of a good thing got you an invitation to join the Mile High Club. So not happening.

  I take a deep breath and face the window, closing my eyes. Maybe if I feign sleep he will continue to ignore me the entire flight, but I don’t have that kind of luck. “Alexandra.” He says.

  NO! Just as I was about to drift off. I ignore him at first, pretending I don’t hear him.

  “Ally!” He says again, while nudging my arm, his warm breath skittering past my ear. Warm and way too close. “I know you’re awake. Your breathing isn’t shallow enough to indicate full sleep. Look at me.” He did not ask. No, that wasn’t a request. Again with the commands.

  I glance over at him with sleepy eyes and he growls, again putting his thumb and index finger under my chin, as if to lift my head up so he can see up my nose. “What are you? A doctor?” I answer, my voice full of sarcasm, and I pull my head away from his grasp.

  He laughs. “Oh Alexandra, such a comedian eh?”

  This man is the most frustrating person I have ever met. “Just tell me what you want and cut it with the domineering, macho bullshit Jackson. I am not in the mood. If you want to say something, say it. You maneuvered your way into the seat next to mine, demanding I sit. Then you peruse your iPad for the last hour and now you want to talk. So TALK! Because I am losing my patience.” Apparently he didn’t think that was very funny, because the look on his face changed to something a whole lot like scary.

  “Why the disrespect, Alexandra? I only want to talk to you. After all, I did say I would see you back in Atlanta. This is my way of ensuring that happens.”

  I take a deep breath. “What? What do you want with me, Mr. Bentley?”

  “Jackson, or Jack. Please.” He curtly responds. “You, Alexandra. I want you. In my magazine and in my bed.”

  When I sucked in a breath, I apparently sucked in all the remaining oxygen in the cabin because everything started to spin and go dark. My vision became blurred and I couldn’t see anything. “Ally, are you okay? Ally?” I hear him calling for the attendant, who comes right away.

  “Miss, are you okay? Here’s some more water, do you need assistance to the restroom?” “No.” I shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. Do you have any chocolate?” I ask the attendant. She turns toward the galley and quickly comes back with a small bag of M&M’s.

  “Shit Ally, you scared me. What the hell happened?”

  “Low blood sugar. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and with the alcohol intake last night...” I pause. “I guess I just overdid it today.” While I sucking on the M&M’s. They melt in your mouth right?

  “You need to take better care of yourself, Alexandra.” His concern never leaving his face. “I’m fine, no need to worry.” I respond while accepting another bag of candy from the flight attendant.

  I drink some water, totally embarrassed. I don’t really have low blood sugar, but when he said he wanted me in his bed I got all woozy. Shit like this doesn’t happen to me and I suddenly feel like I’ve been transported into one of those romance novels I read. I know it isn’t real, so I almost pass out. Way to impress the man, Ally. Maybe this will scare him off. Hey, one could hope right?

  Now that I’m finally coherent again, he finishes what he was saying before I so conveniently tried to pass out on him. Damn, why didn’t that work? I so don’t want to have this conversation and I have no idea what to say to him, except for the fact that neither of those things were ever going to happen. “As I was saying, I want you in the pages of my magazine and.....” I cut him off.

  “No way, Jose. I already have a job and it takes up enough of my time. I am not interested in your magazine.”

  “And between the sheets of my bed.” He continues as if I hadn’t said a word. He’s sitting back in his seat, his right ankle crossed over his left knee. My eyes were on his and his were on mine. I keep mine squarely pointed at his, but his decide to drift down my face, linger on my lips for a brief second, then continue down past my breasts and to my hips, which were turned toward him in the seat. Then he slowly brings them back up, stopping on my lips again. I feel the heat creep up my body, following his gaze, but my eyes never leave his.

  Absently, my tongue pokes out and licks my bottom lip. I mean nothing by it really, but my mouth dried up as his perusal continued up my face. The tip of my tongue moistens my lip and his eyes flicker. A blast of light flashes in his eyes as he forces them back to meet my own.

  “Alexandra. Why do you fight me?” He growls.

  “Fight you? What are you talking about? I’m not fighting anything. You told me what you wanted me to do and I don’t take well to orders, Mister. I am a grown woman and I answer to
no one. Not my father, my mother or Heather. And especially not you. You blaze into my life like a tornado and expect me to drop everything and come work for you. And you proposition me in the same sentence? How dare you?” I heave out my response. My heart is pounding and I’m panting like a dog.

  I didn’t tell him that I’m secretly turned on. What in the hell is wrong with me?

  “You are in control of your life, Alex....Ally, but your eyes tell me you aren’t happy with that. You have a need to lose control, to put the control in someone else’s hands. In my hands. I can waiver on the magazine, but you will be in my bed, sooner...rather than later.” He completes his sentence and turns forward, leaving me hanging by a thread.

  My mind starts spinning again, so I toss back the rest of the M&M’s and chew rapidly, washing them down with water. After a deep breath, I stand. “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” He stands and moves out of my way as I head toward the restroom. I can feel his eyes on me, burning me from behind.

  I enter the small bathroom and lean back on the counter. Shit! This guy is unbelievable! What makes him think he knows so much about me? I’m just a normal girl, with a normal life. I don’t need this kind of confusion racking my brain. I stare at myself in the small mirror, my pupils are dilated and wild, my cheeks are pink and my hair is a mess. A freshly fucked look, and he didn’t even touch me. “I must be crazy. I’m dreaming all this and will wake up from this nightmare soon.” I tell myself, but not really believing it. I splash cold water on my face and reach for the door, blowing out a deep breath as I exit.

  As I make my way back to my seat, I see Heather glaring at me. I raise my eyebrows and shrug my shoulders. Hell, I don’t know what’s going on, how can I tell her? All I know is The Suit makes me nervous and unsteady. He has this way about him that scares me shitless.

  He doesn’t even look at me while I sit down and I wish the seat next to Heather was available so I could sit with her, avoiding any more uncomfortable conversations with him.

  “Why do you hate your name, Alexandra?” He quietly asks me.

  Damn. How can I answer this without sounding silly? I know, I can’t.

  Silence.

  “I asked you a question.” This time, a bit more forceful.

  I pause for a second, then turn to look at him, dead in the eyes.

  “I was named after my great grandmother, if you must know. And with my last name, it just doesn’t sound right.Alexandra Sanders. Silly, I know.” I whisper as I turn my head back toward the small window. Jackson reaches for my chin again. Seems to be a favorite thing for him to do, and he turns my face toward him.

  “Not silly. Nothing about you is silly, Alexandra.” He croons, releasing my chin.

  About that time, the pilot comes on advising to fasten our seat belts and put up our tray tables. I thought this flight would never end. However, landing is not my favorite part of flying. In fact, I hate it because I feel the plane slowing down and it feels like it’s going to stop. “Don’t stop in midair, you fool!” I always feel like screaming out. I never do, thankfully, but my hands are clenched on the arm rests, white knuckles and all. I lean back and close my eyes, and take deep breaths.

  Apparently that was the wrong thing to do. The plane bounces and I suck in an even deeper breath, not releasing it. “Breathe Alexandra.” I hear Jackson say to my left. A warm, strong hand grabs mine and squeezes. “Don’t like flying?” He asks.

  “Flying is not the issue, landing is.” I squeeze out during another bounce of the plane.

  “Ladies and Gentleman. We have entered into a little turbulence during our approach to Atlanta-Hartsfield Jackson International Airport.” You think? “Please make sure your seat belts are fastened and your tray tables are in the upright position. At this time we ask that you turn off all electronic devices. The temperature in Atlanta is eighty four degrees, partly cloudy with winds gusting to twenty miles per hour.” The pilot announces. “We have been cleared for landing. Thank you again for flying with us today.”

  I hear a clunk from the bottom of the plane and I freeze. “Relax, just the landing gear.” Jackson tells me. How can he be so calm when we’re about to crash! Sweat now coats my neck and chest, and I feel it dripping between my breasts. Lovely. I might not be modest, but I hate sweating. So not feminine. I stay completely still as the wheels gently hit the runway and I exhale the breath I held. Landing helped to remind me why I hate flying.

  Jackson releases my hand and pats it gently. “See, I told you everything would be okay.”

  “No, you didn’t!You told me to relax, not saying a word about beingokay! I have trouble relaxing when I feel like I am going to die.” Jackson says nothing, but I hear a chuckle low in his throat. Is he really laughing at me?

  As we taxi to the gate, he pull out his phone and turns it on. Once his signal is found, he sends a text. I tried to peer over his shoulder, but couldn’t see anything.

  We finally stop at the gate and Jackson lowers my bag from the overhead and rests it on its wheels in the aisle. One good thing about first class was the first on and first off perk. Well, I guess that’s two things, but who’s counting? Heather ends up right behind me exiting the plane, Jackson behind her. I feel her poke me in the back. “Stop it, freak!” I exclaim over my shoulder, only to hear her laughing.

  So not funny. Too many people were laughing at me this weekend, and I was so done tolerating that. I just want to get to the car, drive home and crawl into bed. But we still have hoards of people to file through with the Atlanta airport being one of the busiest in the world. THE busiest at some times since it’s a big international hub. Thankfully, most international flights are in the new terminal so it has helped some with the cluster of people traipsing through the terminal.

  We travel down the escalator and jump on the train. We’re on the B concourse this time, so there are only two stops before we get off.Heather and I have not spoken and Jackson is standing behind me holding on to one of those loops on the ceiling, that I callOh Shit handles.That’s why I have not yet spoken to Heather. I didn’t have much to say, and what I did have to say, I sure don’t want Jackson hearing.

  Once we get off the train, head up the long escalator and exit through baggage claim, Heather and I head to the car still parked in the Economy lot. At least, I hoped it was still there. Before we could cross the street, Jackson stops me and directs me to a limo parked along the curb. I blink in surprise, and look back and forth between him and Heather. “You’re chariot awaits, Alexandra.” And he nudges me toward the long black car.

  “I’m sorry?” Is the best I could come up with, which of course generates another laugh from The Suit. Yes, he is back to being The Suit.

  “You’re coming to dinner with me so we can finish our conversation. Then my driver will take you home.” He tells me as he nudges me toward the limo.

  “Um, no I’m not. Heather’s car is here and we’re neighbors, so I’ll be going with her.” I responded. Hell, if he can be persistent, so can I.

  He just looks at me like he’s never been turned down before. Well, he’d better get used to it from me, cause I ain’t going down that road. Nope, I was not.

  Chapter 7

  So, I’m sitting in the back of Jackson Bentley’s.....Bentley. Ironic huh? Yeah, I thought so too. How he managed to talk me into this, I will never know. But Heather is going to get it when I get home because she didn’t help at all.

  “I thought you were my friend?” I yell at her as I’m pulled toward the limo. “He could be a serial killer, or rapist or something! Help me!” I continue as she blows me a kiss and waives.

  “See ya at home Ally! Have fun!” Is all I got back from her. Maybe I should have murdered her while we were still in Miami. Then I could run.

  Running. Maybe I’ll start running. Typically, I'm a Run Only When Chased kinda girl, but I’m weak. Too weak. Yeah, I’ll start running tomorrow. Right. So here I sit.

  The limo is merging on to I85 leaving the airport and
Jackson is sitting across from me, staring. I am so uncomfortable; I don’t even know where to begin. That is, until he switches sides and sits next to me, but not before whispering something to the driver. I assume he is telling him where to take us, but I don’t ask. You know what assuming does right? In case you don’t, assuming makes an ASS out of U and Me. Yep. It sure does. I have a bad habit of assuming, so I guess I resemble an ass most of the time.

  Then he presses a button, closing some sort of privacy screen between us and the driver. I, again can only assume, since I have never been in a limo before. I don’t ask, and he doesn’t say anything.

  After he sits next to me, he places his hand on my thigh. Thankfully my capri pants cover the skin on my thigh, so his warmth is absorbed by the material. Sort of.I look at his hand, and then back up to his eyes in a “What are you doing?”kind of way. He doesn’t move his hand. So I try to scoot over, as far away from him as I can.

  “Relax, I don’t bite. Well, only if you want me to.” He continues. “This is a business meeting of sorts. I’ll have you home before you know it.” His hand gently rubs my thigh.

  He turns to face me, though, bending his knee on the seat next to me. “You’re a tough egg to crack, Alexandra. Why is that?” He rubs his fingers along his chin as if he is deep in thought. My eyes fixate on the light shadow of stubble where his fingers land. He licks his lips and now my eyes are glued to his lips. The bottom one is a little fuller than the top, but that’s normal right?

  No, nothing about this situation seems normal to me. He leans his head toward mine, his eyes are glassy and lids are hooded. Oh no, no, no. Back off dude! I come back to my senses and pull back because I know he’s about to kiss me, but he plays it off very well. Ah, an actor I see. I may be inexperienced in this sort of thing, but I’m not totally stupid.

  I then look around the limo and change my mind. Yes, I am officially stupid. I don’t need to be here, nor do I want to be, but here I am, waiting. Wanting him to kiss me, but I can’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever. Damn my mind is messed up.