Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut (43 page)

BOOK: Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut
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"Are they still fighting about the pictures? I found out Mr. Peterson was responsible, hoping he'd break Jordan and me up for good."

I looked at the myriad of buckles that were supposedly to wrap me safely to the seat. No simple "insert A into B." I fumbled with the harness while Mike secured the luggage and some big bag with a medical insignia on the other side of me.

Without making eye contact, he concurred with my revelation. "That's kind of what Jordan figured and after some investigating, we, uh, removed the source." He jumped into the pilot seat and started switching toggle bolts.

My radar pinged. "Say what?"

"We're burning daylight. Better get airborne," Moose warned, ending the conversation.

Mike leaned around Moose's brawny shoulder and reached for the tangled mess I created with the safety harness. With a couple of twists, he had everything snapped in place. He fastened the headset over my ears so I could hear them talk over the noise. Grinning too wide, he gave me a quick lesson on what to do in the event of a crash.

I clenched my flotation device so tight he laughed. "Your fingers will go numb if you don't soften your grip. Relax, Marli. We haven't dumped a chopper yet—don't want to be 'shark bait.'"

"That's not funny." A nervous sweat beaded on my forehead. "I think I'm going to be sick. Tell me again why we can't take the yacht?"

"Neither of us have clearance to sail
Her Majesty
." Mike handed me a dark green plastic bag. "Here, just in case, but stop worrying. We've flown this island hopper many times, and we'd rather face sharks than Jordan if we let anything happen to you."

Moose interrupted with a message from the control tower. "Uh, Wiz? We don't have clearance to land on the island yet." Their eyes darted back and forth and I knew they held back something because of me.

"What's going on? I thought you already had permission. In fact, I watched you download the flight plan in the car computer on the way back from the marina."

Mike looked to Moose, who merely shrugged his shoulders. "It seems Jordan's father hasn't left. His chopper is still on the helipad."

His
chopper?

Ahead of us on the runway, a gentleman wearing a fluorescent orange vest quickly approached the helicopter. "Now what?" growled Mike under his breath.

"Mr. Reynolds, we have about a thirty minute delay on take-off. The eagle is still on the nest and we haven't received a security clearance on air space. The tower will notify you when everything's clear."

Mike shut down the blades and I blew a loud sigh.

"Sooo…anyone care to explain 'the eagle' or 'the nest?'

Moose chuckled and Mike cleared his throat. "Jordan's dad's helicopter is 'The Eagle,' and 'the nest' would be the beach house. This chopper is 'Baby Bird.'"

My stomach floated. "Two helicopters," I muttered. "Great. Just great." I gathered Jordan's family had wealth, but private planes and multiple helicopters, not to mention a ship the size of a small house sent my head spinning. I'd never been around such opulence and the pressure to prove myself worthy hit ten-fold all over again. The mention of high security preventing us from even taking off triggered the same unanswered question.

"Who is Jordan's father?" I asked. "No one will tell me."

The cockpit became silent with the exception of the soft whirring sound of the blades overhead winding down. Mike turned his gaze out the window and I couldn't help notice his thumb flipping nervously against his thigh.

"Sorry, but that information is—"

"Let me guess.
Confidential,
" I clipped. "You'd think with all the secrecy, Jordan was part of a royal family." Mike's eyes darted sideways to Moose.

A muffled buzzing sound stole Mike's attention and ended my inquisition. He pushed a button overhead, identifying the caller.

"Damn. It's Jordan."

"Is it on video feed?" I shrieked.

"No, just speaker, but be quiet, or he'll hear you in the background." He pressed the answer key. "What's up Mason-1? You headed out with Mason-2 yet?"

"We're in the pilots' lounge at O'Hare. Jesse's downing some major caffeine and getting an oxygen treatment. Between the concert last night and being stuck in a recording studio all day, he's beat."

"Precisely why all paperwork shows you the designated operator. Your itinerary is loaded in both the jet's and ship's computers, and the keys to your car are in your locker."

"Thanks
Mom.
Hey, have you heard anything from Marli? She called late last night and said she was staying the week, which worries me. Peterson's a snake. I only wish she knew the truth—"

"Uh-hum, Jordan," Mike blared over him. "Sorry, but it looks like I'm getting paged. I swear I haven't
heard
from her, but if I do, you'll be the first to know."

"I better be, or you'll pay."

"I believe it's
you
who's paying. Fifty bucks better be in my desk drawer."

"Fine. Can't believe I lost this one. Oh, I almost forgot. Has my dad left yet?"

I lifted my head watching Mike, whose gaze fixed on the instrument panel.

"Yep. Your mom should be in a good mood when you get home," he laughed along with Jordan. "Fly safe and don't forget to leave me a flight report this time."

Mike hung up and Moose playfully punched his shoulder.

<
Baby Bird - this is the tower - do you read?>
The squawk from the speaker on the instrument panel startled me. Mike confirmed we had clearance for takeoff and my heart raced in anticipation.

I re-attached the harness and I took a quick inventory of my floating cushion and little green bag. Several men clad in glowing orange vests made another quick assessment of the helicopter before giving the "thumbs up." I grabbed the steel bar to the side of me and felt the ground fall away and my stomach swirl to my toes when the chopper turned heavenward.

We flew along the shoreline and below, police shuttles were in pursuit of a little black sports car.

"
Hold on!
" came Mike's abrupt warning in my ear as we launched upward and practically sideways before sharply dipping. "Sorry! The news chopper buzzed me and I had to clear air space." He reached back and gave my knee an apologetic squeeze. I'd made use of my little green bag.

We rounded a group of islands I recognized as the ones Jesse sailed to the day he taught me to snorkel. The rainbow reef under the surface of the crystal water looked even more spectacular from the air. We passed over a row of small cliffs encircling the bay and headed into open waters again, confusing me. I thought the beach surrounding the lagoon was part of the island the Masons owned. Apparently, I'd been duped...again.

Ten minutes later, the chopper's speed decreased as we inched closer to a small tropical desert island. White sand edged all sides, almost glowing against the transparent deep blue-green waters. A bay shaped like a crescent moon appeared beyond a protective wall of rock topped with dense trees. Below, a dock stretched into the water with a few small personal watercraft moored against it. On the hill rising above the pristine beach, a gray clapboard two-story house blazed bright orange in the late afternoon sun.

The weather vane on the pitched roof shifted at our passing and the palm trees bowed at our arrival when the chopper lowered onto a concrete pad. The blades slowed, their shadowy movement giving the appearance of a strobe light against the white sand. Mike lifted me to the ground, keeping a wary eye on the bag clutched in my hand. I was mortified I'd puked, but he'd left me no choice.

He placed my bags at my feet. "It's all right, Marli. You're not the first person to barf on one of my flights. Just focus on Jordan. I wish I could be there to see his face when he finds those sexy little boxers on the seat of his car."

My body stiffened when I caught sight of two figures standing at the edge of the lawn, under the trees. Eva Mason stepped out of the shade and walked toward us with open arms.

"Mike! Marli! I see you made it in one piece." She gave me a formal hug and kiss, barely touching my cheek, and moved to Mike.

When planning my surprise with Mike, I discovered nothing went on in the Mason realm without Eva's approval. I gathered very few were allowed beyond the walls guarding the family's personal life. It was as if they all lived in some ultra-secret world and only a select few were privy to be included. I hadn't reached that point with any of the Masons. Not even Jordan.

Tonight, I'd stay alone with Eva Mason—a thought I'd pushed to far corners of my mind. The way her eyes swept over me in the mere seconds before her "air kiss" brought home the realization I still auditioned for her acceptance.

She gestured toward the house. "Mike, will you and Hank come in for a moment? Meg made fresh lemonade."

"Thanks for the offer, but we need to get the chopper back before Jordan and Jesse arrive. We don't want to risk spoiling the surprise after all this work." He gave her a polite hug and returned to the chopper. Mrs. Mason pulled me quickly toward the grassy area as the blades increased in speed, sending sand flying everywhere.
Baby Bird
swooped overhead and disappeared
.

Eva Mason linked her arm through the petite woman standing next to her. "Marli, this is my best friend, Meg. She helped raise my children and has kept our household in line since before Jordan was born. She's a dear member of our family." She turned to Meg
.
"And this lovely young lady is Marli, the candidate selected for Jordan."

I bristled at the cold reminder of my status.

Meg gave me an impish smile, "Ah yes, Marli. You've reached celebrity status around our house. I hear your name mentioned more than anyone else's, and you're definitely the topic of most conversations
.
" She air quoted "conversations" and both she and Mrs. Mason giggled at their inside joke. It would prove to be a long night.

Mrs. Mason hooked her other arm through mine and the three of us walked toward the house. "Well, I guess it's only us girls." She tugged me closer. "Marli dear, you still look a little green. You need something in your stomach. Meg made some delicious ginger cookies this morning."

I stopped inside the entry, dropping my bags onto a hardwood floor glistening against the sunlight pouring through double glass doors leading to the kitchen. This house was the complete opposite of the penthouse.

The room before me felt comfortable and inviting. A deeply tufted sofa, covered in bright floral fabric, edged the entry. On each side of a stone fireplace, two overstuffed chairs, large enough for two, beckoned you to sit. Bookcases filled board games, rare magazines, and actual books, lined the walls behind them.

I closed my eyes and took in the musty scent of the wood-paneled walls blending with the salty smell of the ocean. All the anxiety overwhelming me moments ago disappeared. My body relaxed in the serenity of the world I'd stepped into.

Eva placed a hand on my shoulder. "Marli, dear, there's a powder room around the corner if you'd like to freshen up."

My eyes followed hers to the bag still clutched in my hand. "Oh! I-
yes.
I'm so embarrassed."

Her smile put me at ease. "Don't be silly. I've ridden in that toy helicopter. The thing bounces around like it's on a giant spring. Trust me, you are not the only person whose stomach couldn't handle the horrid experience. Personally, I prefer the yacht."

She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Do you think your queasiness will ease by dinner? Meg planned on grilling salmon, but I can have her prepare something more bland."

"I should be okay, and grilled salmon sounds great. Thank you."

After using the facilities and splashing some cool water on my face, I felt renewed. My cheeks actually looked pink again. I walked out to find Mrs. Mason perched nonchalantly on the arm of the sofa. She looked so different from the last time I saw her, all prim and proper for the interview. Here, she seemed casual and carefree dressed in white pants rolled half way up her leg, and a green floral halter tied in a knot behind her neck.

"Marli, your room is upstairs at the end of the hall. You have a perfect view of the lagoon from your window and the softest bed in the house." She pulled away the scarf wrapping her head and draped it over the back of the sofa. "Leave your bags here in the hall and come join us for some refreshments. Afterward, we'll help you get your things upstairs where you can rest before dinner."

"Mrs. Mason? Thanks again for letting me come."

"Eva, please. Mrs. Mason sounds far too formal. And thank you for including me in your surprise. I'm excited to see my son's reaction at finding you here. Your presence is already a breath of fresh air and I look forward to getting to know you better. The interview could hardly qualify as a proper introduction."

Her arm curved around my shoulder and she led me into the kitchen. A small round table covered with a lace cloth sat nestled in the cozy glassed nook. Bright blue plates and tall frosted glasses waited on each side of a tiered crystal dish. Ginger cookies artistically fanned around the bottom and fresh green grapes cascaded from the top. Meg nibbled on a cookie, her arm resting on the back of her chair as her daydreams carried her beyond the window panes.

I sat across from Jordan's mother and helped myself to a cookie while she poured me a glass of lemonade. She pinched a lemon wedge into her ice tea and raised a brow.

"Now Marli, let's talk about you and my boys."

25

TROPICAL BLISS

BOOK: Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut
3.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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