Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The heartbeat to Milan Playlist- I'm with you (AVRIL LAVIGNE) He is punctual, of course, and waiting for me when I leave my workplace. He climbs out of the back of the Lexus car to open the door and smiles warmly at me. "Good evening, Signorina Damara," he says. "Signor De Leon ." I nod politely to him as I climb into the backseat of the car. Enzo, his bodyguard, is sitting in the driver's seat. "Hello, Enzo," I say. "Good evening, Signorina Damara," his voice is polite and competent. Jace climbs on the other side and clasps my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that I feel through my body. "How was work?" he asks. "Very long," I reply, and my voice is pudgy. "Yes, it's been a long day for me too." His tone is serious. "What did you do?" I inquired with a slight smile. "I went kickboxing with Maverick, Lucca, and Enrique." His thumb strokes my knuckles, back and forth, and my heart skips a beat as my breathing accelerates. How does he do this to me? He's only touching a tiny area of my body, and my slutty hormones fly all over. The drive to the airport t is short and, before I knew it, we arrived. I wonder where the fabled private airplane might be. We're in a built-up city area, and even I know planes need space to take off and land. Enzo parks, climb out, and opens my car door. Jace is beside me in an instant and retakes my hand. "Ready?" He asks. I nod and want to say anything, but I can't articulate the words as I'm too nervous, too excited. "Enzo." He nods curtly at his bodyguard driver, and we head into the building, straight to a set of elevators. The memory of daydreaming romance of last time came haunting me. I have thought of nothing else all day. I was daydreaming about what could never happen. I know why Jace is doing all this for me. It's surely because we were close friends, I'm sure, he can never fall for a bit of a mouse thing like me when models and celebrities are worshipping at his fucking Alpha billionaire feet. To say I've been distracted would be the understatement of the year. Jace glances down at me, a slight smile on his lips. "Ahh, " he says dryly, his neon eyes dancing with amusement. He's telepathic, indeed. It's spooky. What crazy stuff is he thinking up again? Jace De Leon will never stop to amuse me. I try to keep my face impassive as we enter the elevator. The doors close, and it's there, the weird electrical attraction crackling between us, enslaving me. I close my eyes in a vain attempt to ignore it. He tightens his grip on my hand. Five seconds later, the doors open onto the roof of the building, and there it is, a white airplane more giant like the Ex Boeing 208 with the name -De Leon Enterprises Holdings Inc. written in black with the company logo on the side. Indeed this is the misuse of Company property. He leads me to a small office where an old-timer sits behind the desk. "Here's your flight plan, Signor De Leon. All external checks are done. It's ready and waiting, sir. You're free to go." "Thank you, Stephano ." Jace smiles warmly at him. Oh. Someone deserving of the polite treatment from Jace, perhaps he's not an employee. I stare at the old guy in awe. "Let's go," Jace says, and we make our way toward the plane. When we're up close, it's much bigger than I thought. I expected it to be like the version for 208, but it has at least ten seats. Jace opens the door and directs me to one of the seats at the very front. "Sit - don't touch anything," he orders as he clambers in behind me. He shuts the door with a slam. I'm glad that the area is floodlit. Otherwise, I'd find it difficult to see inside the tiny cockpit. I sit down in my allotted seat, and he crouches beside me to strap me into the harness. It's a four-point harness with all the straps connecting to one central buckle. He tightens both of the upper straps, so I can hardly move. He's so close and intent on what he's doing. If I could only lean forward, my nose would be in his hair. He smells clean, fresh, heavenly, but I'm fastened securely into my seat and effectively immobile. He glances up and smiles like he's enjoying his usual private joke, His neon eyes heated. He's so tantalizingly close. I hold my breath as he pulls at one of the upper straps. "You're secure, no escaping," he whispers. His eyes are scorching. "Breath, Brielle," he adds softly. Reaching up, he caresses my cheek, running his long fingers down to my chin which he grasps between his thumb and forefinger. He leans forward and plants a brief chaste kiss on my cheek, leaving me reeling, my insides clenching at the thrilling, unexpected touch of his lips. "I like this harness," he whispers. "What?" I stare at him in shock. "Why? Did your hand get caught in a cookie jar?" he chuckles. He sits down beside me and buckles himself into his seat, then begins a lengthy procedure of checking gauges and flipping switches and buttons from the mind-boggling array of dials and lights and wiggles in front of me. Little lights wink and flash from various dials, and the whole of the instrument panel lights up. "Put your cans on," he says, pointing to a set of headphones in front of me. I pop them on, and the rotor blades start. They are deafening. He puts his headphones on and continues flipping various switches. "I'm just going through all the pre-flight checks." Jace's disembodied voice is in my ears through the headphones. I turn and grin at him. "Do you know what you are doing?" I ask. He turns and smiles at me. Well, I have to ask because I'm too young, hot, achieving, and beautiful to die on a day like this with this dickhead Jace. "I've been a fully qualified global leader in the seaborne transportation of liquefied gas navigator for seven years, Brielle, and you're safe with me." He gives me a wolfish grin. "Well, while we're flying," he adds and winks at me "Wait a minute Signore De Leon, seaborne is referred to as offshore, inshore navigation works, and here we are talking about sea fleet and vessel connecting gas experts instead of planes." "I'm also a pilot. So, Are you ready?" I nod wide-eyed. "Okay, ULTRADEEP PBX, this is Jace De Leon shipbuilding consultancy, technical specifications, and equipment review cleared for take-off. Please confirm, over." "ULTRADEEP PBX- you are clear. PBX to call, proceed to one four thousand, heading zero one zero, over. " "flight consultancy, ULTRADEEP set, over and out. Here we go," he adds to me, and the plane rises slowly and smoothly into the air, and our little town disappears in front of us as we head into airspace, though my stomach remains firmly. Whoa! All the bright lights shrink until they are twinkling sweetly below us. It's like looking out from inside a fishbowl. Once we're higher, there is nothing to see. It's pitch black, not even the moon to shed light on our journey. How can he see where we're going? "isn't it?" Jace's voice is in my ears. "How do you know you're going the right way?" I ask. "Here." He points his long index finger at one of the gauges, showing an electronic compass. "This is a PC135 plane. One of the safest in its class. It's equipped for night flight." He glances and grins at me. "There's a plane pad on top of the building I live in. That's where we're heading." Of course, there's a plane pad where he lives. I am so out of his league here. The lights on the instrument panel softly illuminate his face. He's concentrating hard, continually glancing at the various dials in front of him. I drink in his features from beneath my lashes. He has a beautiful profile. Straight nose, square-jawed - I'd like to run my tongue along his jaw, and his stubble makes the prospect doubly tempting. Hmmm-I'd like to feel how rough it is beneath my tongue, my fingers against my face. "When you fly at night, you fly blind. You have to trust the instrumentation," he interrupts my erotic reverie. "How long will the flight be?" I manage breathlessly. I wasn't thinking about sex at all, no, no way. "Less than 3hour 42minutes, the wind is in our favor." Hmm, less than 3hour and 42 minutes to the city of Milan? That's not bad going. No wonder we're flying. I have less than an hour before the big reveal. All the muscles clench deep in my belly. I have a severe case of butterflies. They are flourishing in my stomach. Holy shit, what has he got in store for me? "You okay, Brielle?" "Yes." My answer is short, clipped, squeezed out through my nerves. I think he smiles, but it's difficult to tell in the darkness. Jace flicks yet another switch. "PBX, this is ULTRADEEP now at one four thousand, over." He exchanges information with air traffic control. It all sounds very professional to me. I think we're moving from Palermo air space to Milan. "Understood Sea-Tac, standing by over and out." He voiced out. "Look, over there." He points to a tiny pinpoint of light in the far distance. "That's Milan, the city of fashion." He snickered. "Do you always impress women this way? Come and fly in by helicopter or private airplanes?" I ask, genuinely interested. "I've never bought a girl up here, neither offshore nor inshore in my vessels or planes and jets, Brielle. It's another first for me." His voice is quite severe. Oh, that was an unexpected answer. Another first? Oh, the sleeping thing, perhaps? "Are you impressed?" He inquires. "I'm awed," I smile. "Awed?" And for a brief moment, he's his age again. I nod. "You're just so...competent," he adds. "Thank you!" I mumble. "Why, thank you, Ms. Damara," he says politely. I think he's pleased, but I'm not sure. We ride into the night in silence for a while. The bright spot is that Milan is slowly getting more significant. "Sea-Tac Navigation Ultradeep Matisse. Flight plan to Milan in place. Please proceed and standby. Over." "This is Ultradeep Matisse, understood Sea-Tac. Standing by, over and out." "You enjoy this," I murmur. "What?" He glances at me. He looks quizzical in the half-light of the instruments. "Flying," I reply. "It requires control and concentration... how could I not love it? Though, my favorite is soaring." "Soaring?" "Yes. Gliding to the layperson. Gliders and helicopters -I fly them both and also piloting a vessel offshore." "Oh." Expensive hobbies. I remember him telling me during high school, but I didn't believe him. I like reading and occasionally going to the movies. I am out of my depth here. "Navigator Ultradeep Matisse, come in please, over." The disembodied voice of air traffic control interrupts my reverie. Jace answers, sounding in control and confident. Milan is getting closer. We are on the very outskirts now. Wow! It looks stunning-Milan at night, from the sky. "Looks good, doesn't it?" Jace murmurs. I nod enthusiastically. It looks otherworldly - unreal - and I feel like I'm on a giant film set, the favorite film maybe, Skyscraper. The memory of kelvin's attempted kiss haunts me. I'm beginning to feel a bit cruel not calling him back. He can wait until tomorrow-surely. "We'll be there in a few minutes," Jace mutters, and suddenly my blood is pounding in my ears as my heartbeat accelerates and adrenaline spikes through my system. He starts talking to air traffic control again, but I am no longer listening. Oh my-I think I'm going to faint. My fate is in his hands. We are now flying amongst the buildings, and up ahead, I can see a tall skyscraper with a plane pad on top. The word De Leon is painted in white on top of the building. Even his mansion roof has his surname on it. Classy right. It's getting nearer and nearer, more extensive and more enormous -like my anxiety. God, I hope I don't let him down. He'll find me lacking in some way. I wish I'd listened to Hera and borrowed one of her dresses, but I like my blue jeans, and I'm wearing a soft mint black shirt and Hera's black jacket. I look smart enough. I grip the edge of my seat tighter and tighter. I can do this. I can do this. I chant this mantra as the skyscraper looms below us. The Airplane slows and hovers, and Jace sets it down on the plane pad on top of the building. My heart is in my mouth. I can't decide if it's from nervous anticipation, relief that we've arrived alive, or fear that I will fail somehow. He switches the ignition off, and the rotor blades slow and quiet until all I hear is the sound of my erratic breathing. Jace takes his headphones off, reaches across, and pulls mine off. "We're here," he says softly. His look is so intense, half in shadow and half in the bright white light from the landing lights. Dark warlock and white knight it's a fitting metaphor for Jace. He looks strained. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are tight. He unfastens his seatbelt and reaches over to unbuckle mine. His face is inches from mine. "Come," he shouts above the noise of the wind. He drags me over to an elevator shaft, and after tapping a number into a keypad, the doors open. It's warm inside and all mirrored glass. I can see Jace to infinity everywhere I look, and the wonderful thing is, he's holding me to infinity. Jace taps another code into the keypad, then the doors close, and the elevator descends. Moments later, we're in an all-white foyer. In the middle, it's around a dark wood table, and on it is an unbelievably massive bunch of white flowers. On the walls, there are paintings everywhere. He opens two double doors, and the white theme continues through the wide corridor and directly opposite a stately room. It's the main living area, double-height. Enormous is the tiny word for it. The far wall is made of glass and leads on to a balcony that overlooks the beauty of the city of Milan. To the right is an imposing-shaped sofa that could seat ten adults comfortably. It faces state-of-the-art stainless steel - or maybe platinum for all I know - modern fireplace. The fire is lit and flaming gently. On the left beside us, by the entryway, is the kitchen area-all white with dark wood worktops and a large breakfast bar that seats six. Near the kitchen area, in front of the glass wall, is a dining table surrounded by sixteen chairs tucked in the corner. Oh yes. There is an art of all shapes and sizes on all the walls. This apartment looks more like a gallery than a place to live. "Can I take your jacket?" Jace asks. I shake my head. I'm still cold from the wind on the Airplane. "Would you like a drink?" he asks. I blink at him. After last night! Is he trying to be funny? For one second, I think about asking for vodka - but I don't have the nerve. "I'm going to have a glass of red wine. Would you like to join me?" He gestures with his hand. "Yes, please," I murmur. I am standing in this enormous room feeling out of place. I walk over to the glass wall, and I realize that the lower half of the wall opens concertina-style onto the balcony. Milan stands lit up and lives in the atmosphere. I walk back to the kitchen area - it takes a few seconds, it's so far from the glass wall - and Jace is opening a bottle of wine. He removed his jacket. "Baron, okay with you?" He asked. "I know nothing about wine, Signore DeLeon. I'm sure it will be fine." My voice is soft and hesitant. My heart is thumping. I want to run. Is seriously rich. Seriously over-the-top Bill Gates style of wealth. What am I doing here? You know very well what you're doing here - my subconscious sneers at me. Yes, I want to be in Jace De Leon's bed. "Here." He hands me a glass of wine. Even the drinks are rich -heavy, contemporary, crystal, and it's more precise and lighter than my unseen future with Jace. I take a sip of the wine, crisp and delicious. "You're very quiet, and you're not even blushing. In fact - I think this is the palest I've ever seen you, Brielle," he murmurs. "Are you hungry?" I shake my head. I'm hungry but Not for food. Common Brielle Damara, can you get your mind over with from Jace's bedroom?