Love and Obsession

What am I even doing?

The limo is taking us to JFK. I can tell because I went there once to fly to Florida for my Grandfather's funeral.

"Lex," I say, scooting over. "Where are we going?"

"JFK."

I relax my head on his shoulder and watch the planes and traffic out the window. "I know. I see that, but where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

The limo pulls into the airport and to a small area where I see several small private planes. There are several men standing there. Alexander takes my hand and we get out of the limo.

"Right this way, sir," one of the stewards says to him.

I'm not sure if I feel important or unbelievably out of place. I've never been on a private plane before, nor would I have ever imagined myself to be on one.

He holds my hand as we walk up the stairs inside the plane. He whispers in my ear, "Make yourself at home," then he points to the seats and the lounge area. He walks away and to the cockpit for several minutes while I'm left standing in his private jet. I just look around at the beige interior and walk through the first area that has a table and two loungers to get the the back where there's couches on either side, a bar, and a large screen TV.  I sit down and look for a remote. I'm not there long before Alexander's standing there.

"Sorry about that. I needed to talk to the captain."

He sits next to me, lifts the armrest off the couch, and pulls out the TV remote. "Looking for this?"

"Yeah. Lex, where are we going? I thought we were having dinner?"

He leans back on the couch, turning the stations, and I feel the plane begin to move. I look out the window. Feeling nervous, I scooch over closer to him, sitting up on my knees as I rest my arms and head on his shoulder to look out the window and watch  the plane drive to the runway.

"We are having dinner... tomorrow," he says.

"What? Where are we going?"

"I told you. It's a surprise. Now, get comfortable. It'll be a long ride. If you get tired, there's a bed through there, or you can sleep right here."

I hold his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. "Alexander Sebastian Holt. You tell me where we are going right now."

He gives me a half-smile and brushes some hair back from my cheek as he says, "Or else?"

"Or else I will get off this plane right now."

He glances behind us to the window, and I realize the plane is taking off.

"Oh, well, I won't speak to you."

He leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his head, and says, "Quiet ride."

I poke him in the gut. "Stop. Be nice."

He chuckles. "I'm taking you somewhere nice. Just relax and enjoy. It's a long ride, so if you want to get comfortable, I have some sweats in the closet in that room through there." He points at the door at the end of the row.

I stand and walk to the room, mostly out of curiosity, and I see a small bedroom with a bathroom and a closet. I open the closet and take out one of his long-sleeve shirts and a pair of his sweats. Once I'm changed, I go back in to see two plates of food and wine in front of him.

"Hungry?" he asks.

"Um, yeah?"

"It was my turn to choose. I love steak and potatoes. Man food."

I laugh. "I like man food too."

"My clothes are too big for you," he says with a bite of food in his mouth.

I hold the sleeves out that are dangling from my arms. "A little. But they smell so nice. You smell nice."

"Savannah, please tell me why you need money. I'll still give you a job if that's what you want. But I'd like to know."

I hesistate to tell him about my dad and what happened, so I tell him as few details as possible.

"My dad's business struggled financially. Life insurance didn't have enough money to cover the debts. I'm still paying them off," I say as I chew.

"Hm... what kind of debts."

I shrug and take another bite. I don't want to tell him my dad got involved with illegal affairs. "I don't know."

He studies my face for a moment, knowing I'm hiding something. "I'll find out, you know."

"I know. I just don't want you to hear it from me."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm falling in love with you."

He says nothing back to me and I regret saying it.

"I think I'm gonna go lie down," I say and point to the back room. He waves his fingers for me to stretch out and lay my head on his lap and he moves my long hair so that it doesn't get caught underneath me. He sits, brushing his fingers in my hair for a few minutes as I lay there with my head on his thigh, curled up next to him. He reaches for a blanket and covers me up, but he still hasn't said anything, and I want to cry, wishing I hadn't been so vulnerable with my feelings now. After about five minutes of holding it back, I let a tear flow down my cheek. He knows it too because he uses his thumb to wipe it away. Yet, he still says nothing and I wonder what I'm even doing here.