Half Empty (First Wives, #2)(11)

“I was thinking I needed a quick stop in Nassau . . . where the plane might not be able to leave right away. That tropical depressed storm and all.”

She pointed a finger in his direction. “I like the way you think.”





Chapter Five



“You’re still in Florida,” Avery yelled into the phone.

The gray clouds hovering over the airport didn’t stop Trina from wearing large-framed sunglasses that hid the dark circles under her eyes. She and Wade had stayed up past four in the morning and were walking to his chartered jet at just after noon.

“I’m getting on a plane now,” Trina told her.

“Uh-huh . . .”

“You don’t believe me?”

Avery was in tune like that.

“There is a catch.”

“No catch.” Trina glanced up at Wade, who was walking beside her toward the twin-engine Gulfstream. “Here,” Trina said before lifting her cell phone in his direction. “Tell my friend I’m getting on a plane.”

Amused, Wade reached for the phone. Without waiting for Avery to speak he said, “Trina is indeed getting on a plane.” He paused. “I’ll let Trina tell you that. Rest assured, I’ll keep her safe and get her home just as soon as I possibly can.”

Wade handed her phone back. Before Trina could place it to her ear, she heard Avery’s voice.

“Who are you?”

“That was Wade.” They approached the steps of the jet. “Listen, I have to go. We have a tiny stop in Nassau, something about picking up a straggler. But I can’t be picky, it isn’t my charter.”

“I knew there was a catch.”

“Not a catch, just a quick stop. Only a few miles away from Miami. Didn’t want you to be shocked when you saw my radar headed east.”

“I swear, Trina . . . if you don’t get here, I’m going to track you down.”

“I’m on my way. Don’t worry.”

At the foot of the steps, a flight attendant greeted them. “Hello, Mr. Thomas.”

“Good afternoon . . .” Wade spoke with the attendant while Trina ended her call.

“I’ll be there, Avery. I admit I wasn’t in the mood to face the anniversary . . .” She glanced over her shoulder, saw Wade duck inside the plane. “But I’m better now.”

“I’m worried about you.” Avery put her anger aside for a minute.

“I know. I’m sorry for that. It’s been a strange week.”

“Trina?” Wade called her from the plane. “We need to get in the air before the storm hits.”

“Right . . .”

“Storm?” she heard Avery ask.

“Just a small one. But I gotta go. I’ll text when we leave Nassau.”

“Text on the plane, I wanna know who the we is.”

“My phone isn’t acting right since I dropped it.” Which wasn’t a lie.

“Trina!”

“Gotta go. Wade is waving at me.”

“Wade who?”

“Thomas. Love you.” Trina hung up.

She climbed the few steps and grinned.

“Did she buy it?”

“Yup.”

He moved aside so she could walk in. It wasn’t the largest private jet she’d been on, but it wasn’t the smallest either. The interior was made of white leather and sleek lines and would comfortably seat six people. It wasn’t large enough for a bedroom, but all the seats reclined enough for a person to sleep.

“Can I take your purse, Miss . . . ?”

The flight attendant—tall, thin, and twentyish—flashed a perfectly manicured smile.

Trina couldn’t help but feel a certain companionship with the woman. She dropped her phone inside and handed her the bag. “Trina is fine. What’s your name?”

“Nita.”

“Thank you, Nita.”

Nita took her purse and stowed it before closing the door and securing the lock.

Wade encouraged Trina to sit across from him. “The pilot told me we needed to get in the air as quickly as possible. He anticipates the need to stay in Nassau for a minimum of six hours.”

Trina smiled. “I’m sure we can push that off until tomorrow.”

Nita walked by them again, and this time she brought two glasses of sparkling wine. Trina didn’t feel the need after the late night before but took the glass anyway. Within minutes they were taxiing onto the runway.

“So you really didn’t google me when you went back to your room last night?” Wade asked.

“I did not.” They’d started this conversation in the car over. “It was late. I was tired. Besides, I’d rather you tell me what you want me to know than read about you online.”

Wade sat back in his seat and played with the stem of his glass. “You have more restraint than I do. I would have googled you if you’d shared your last name.”

Her last name would have pinged more pages than his, or so she thought.

“Are you married?”

She snapped her gaze back to his. “No. No, I wouldn’t be here . . .”

He leaned forward and glanced at her left hand. “I see a tan line.”

“When did you notice that? Last night when you were trying to convince me to date you?”