The journey

The following day, I boarded the plane with Richard, clutching my bag a little tighter than usual. The sleek private jet was every bit as opulent as I’d expected. Plush cream-colored leather seats, polished wood trim, and a bar that looked more at home in a five-star lounge than an aircraft. I glanced down at my own modest outfit—black slacks, a crisp white blouse, and sensible flats—and suddenly felt out of place.

Richard, of course, looked completely at ease. He was dressed in a tailored navy suit, the fabric so fine it seemed to shimmer under the cabin lights. His tie was undone, and he had this air about him like he owned the plane, the sky, and anything else he wanted.

“Relax, Lori,” he said, leaning back in his seat with an infuriating smirk. “You’re too tense. This trip should be fun.”

Fun wasn’t the word I’d use. The pit in my stomach hadn’t stopped twisting since yesterday.

“I’m focused on the work,” I replied, keeping my tone brisk and professional. “It’s a big event.”

“Sure it is,” he said, his eyes lingering on me just a beat too long. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves. You’ll find that the island has… certain perks.”

I ignored the implication, pulling out my laptop and pretending to review the schedule for the conference.

The hum of the plane was steady, but I couldn’t drown out the feeling of Richard’s gaze flicking toward me every now and then. I tried to keep my focus on the itinerary—networking dinners, keynote addresses, private meetings with VIP clients—but I couldn’t help noticing that one slot on the schedule stood out. A spa treatment.

I frowned. Why would a business trip include something so indulgent?

Richard noticed my expression and leaned in, his cologne subtle but expensive, like cedar and spice. “Ah, you spotted it. I had them book you a session at the spa when we land. You’ll love it—it’s world-class.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I replied quickly, sitting straighter in my seat.

Richard chuckled, the sound low and smug. “You’ve earned it. Besides, appearances matter. My ‘wife’ can’t look stressed out and overworked.”

I shot him a sharp look, but he wasn’t fazed. He leaned back again, crossing his legs, his grin as infuriating as ever.

I considered arguing further, but the idea of a spa session—especially after the mounting tension of the past twenty-four hours—was tempting. Still, I didn’t trust the way his grin widened when I said, “Fine.”

“Good,” he said, his tone like a pat on the head. “You’ll thank me later.”

I turned back to my laptop, pretending to focus on the schedule again. To distract myself, I thought of Jake. I hated not being able to call him during the flight, but I knew he’d understand.

The thought of Jake grounded me. His messy brown hair, his crooked smile, the way he always knew how to make me laugh when I was stressed. I imagined his warm embrace, his soft chuckle when I’d told him I’d be fine. I clung to those memories like a shield, brushing off Richard’s occasional comments and inappropriate glances.

“You know,” Richard said suddenly, interrupting my thoughts, “your husband must be a very trusting man.”

My eyes snapped up from my screen. “Excuse me?”

“I mean,” he said, waving a hand casually, “letting you come with me on this trip. Most men would be… uneasy about the situation. But I suppose he knows you don’t mix business with pleasure.”

The insinuation in his tone made my stomach churn. I **** a tight smile. “Jake trusts me, and he knows my priorities. This trip is strictly business.”

“Of course it is,” Richard replied, though his smirk suggested otherwise.

I turned my attention back to the screen, clinging to my professionalism even as irritation simmered under the surface. By the time we landed, I was exhausted from the mental effort of brushing off his remarks.

When the plane touched down, I stared out the window, my breath catching at the sight of the island. The turquoise waters sparkled under the sun, and the lush greenery seemed almost too perfect, like something out of a movie.

“Welcome to paradise,” Richard said as he stood, brushing nonexistent lint from his suit.

I grabbed my bag, determined to keep my focus on the task ahead. But as we stepped off the plane, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of unease and anticipation. Whatever the next few days held, I’d have to navigate them carefully.