First Flyght – Chapter 19

Silence drapes its heavy body over the elevator as we ascend to the top floor. I thought he was helping me escape, but when we climbed two floors and called the elevator, Ken instructed it to go up, not down. Maybe I should’ve said something, but I want to see how this plays out. We have history between us, things left unsaid. I would be a fool to walk away from him if he wants to talk to me.

The door opens and an older man bows to us. “Good evening, Mr. Mata. Please follow me.”

Ken follows the man out of the elevator, but I hesitate. This all feels staged, planned. And I had no idea he was even here until ten minutes ago. I better not be walking into some kind of trap.

Ken turns around to see me following farther behind. “I have a membership here. They always know when I’m coming.” He lifts his left hand, exposing his wristlet from underneath his shirt cuff.

“What is this place?” The hallway is quiet, the walls ensconced in dark wood. Bamboo lines one wall, jade green stalks all pruned to the same height. A sliver of window above reveals the stars, so we’re definitely on the top floor.

“It’s an executive club. Mostly for women, but I’m one of the few men they’ve let join. It’s the perfect private getaway. There’s a restaurant, pool, conference rooms, and private balconies.”

Doors slide open as we proceed down a second hall, following our guide. The place is quiet, but who knows what’s happening behind closed doors?

“A private balcony sounds nice. Do you ever tire of the view?”

“Never. They rotate my access every few months so I can see something else. Remember that place we lived in on Rio, the one with the view of a wall?”

I smile, though the memory hurts. That was the last year we were together. “I’m sure the views here are worth the money, unlike the rent we paid.”

The escort sees us to our balcony, a luxurious spot with reclining chairs, potted plants, a well-stocked bar, and, ah, that view.

“Wow,” I breathe out, walking to the glass railing and leaning forward to get the full effect. Concord City is gorgeous at night. Twinkling lights stretch for kilometers in every direction, and the evening weather is warm with a soft breeze. The Cascada Mountain Range looms over the horizon, the highest peak still kissed with snow, though this part of Palo Alto is well into summer.

“Wine?” Ken asks as he pours himself a drink.

Hot damn. Why does he have to look so good? He’s left his suit jacket on the back of one chair and loosened his collar. Concentrating on the bar and presenting his profile to me, I’m struck by his sharp jaw and his focused, dark eyes. His grandfather was from an Ossun Japanese-Brazilian family, and he got all the desirable traits of that bloodline. His full name is actually Kenichiro, but he shortened it in college and never looked back. My heart aches as I remember when he was poor and mine. His family loved me, and I said no to them.

Dammit, Vivian. I am the stupidest woman alive.

I turn from the view and pick a chair to sit on. Slipping off my Bomba-Farias next to it, I lower myself to the soft cushions and draw up my legs.

“Sure. Might as well. I already polished off a bottle on my own.”

Ken chuckles. “You always could hold your liquor.” He delivers a glass of white wine to me then sits in the chair next to mine.

I sip and enjoy the view, doing my best not to look at him. Looking at him, acknowledging his existence, is the hardest task I’ve had all day. And that’s saying something, considering how the day started.

“This is some escape. If I hadn’t run into you, I’d be on public transport heading back to my midnight shuttle.”

“Are you sleeping on board the Amagi? I expected you to have a place in the city.”

“Ah, no,” I say, swirling the wine in my glass and observing the way it clings to the sides. Nice legs. I’ve always wanted to get into the wine business. “It’s cheaper for me to take the shuttle and stay on board.”

I rest my head back on the chair and let out a long breath. “I’m tired, and I haven’t slept well lately. I should drink this one glass and go.”

We’re quiet for a short time, sipping and staring out at the city. Someone in a party in the balcony above us laughs.

“Vivian, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

I glance over at Ken, and he’s staring at his tumbler with a generous pour of whiskey.

“Ken…” I let all the weariness I feel seep into his name. “Do I have to?”

“Of course not.”

The unspoken ‘we’re not dating anymore’ hovers between us. We don’t owe each other anything. He didn’t owe me this escape. I don’t owe him my time or my explanations.

Yet…

Yet. If I could turn him from a stranger into an ally, or even a friend, my crew might be better off. I want to run away, bury the past, not relive it.

But it’s not about what I want. Is it?

It’s never been about me.

“Tomu took the money and ran.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“What?” Ken’s voice is so loud, I jump and lose half the glass of wine onto the ground between us. “Sorry.” He takes the glass from my hand, and I shake the wine drops from my fingers.

“Can you please not scare the shit out of me? I’ve already had a really, really hard day.” I sigh in a huff and sit back in the chair.

“What did you just say?”

“Exactly what you heard. My mother, in her infinite wisdom, gave Tomu control of the family assets. He then mortgaged the house and all the land, sent us into debt, and ran. I have almost nothing left.”

I have no tears either. It’s now just a matter-of-fact part of my life. I haven’t really accepted it yet, but I also am no longer in denial.

“Oh, Vivian, I’m so sorry.” Ken jumps up from his spot, refills my glass, and hands it back to me. “You don’t know where he is?”

“If I knew where he was, he’d be dead.” I say it with such seriousness that he pulls back, surprised. “Trust me. I’ve been imagining all the different ways I can kill him. I went to school for six fucking years, turned down a marriage proposal, and graduated summa cum laude to come home to nothing.” I take a few hearty gulps of my wine. Ken stays quiet. “That fucking bastard stole everything, and now I’m selling myself all over the Duo Systems in a bid to buy back the land and the business.”

I can’t look at him to know what he thinks. I keep my eyes trained on the mountains in the distance.

“It’s a right mess. One I’m not sure I can get out of. But…” I sigh again, this time more from tiredness than annoyance. “What can you do? I’ve been told this is my only option, so I have to make peace with it. Try to build something from nothing.”

Setting my glass of wine on the table between us, I finally glance at him. He has that look — the dropped eyebrows, the lips set in a line, the hardened jaw. This is the ‘Ken is Serious Face.’

Time to change the subject. “I’m happy for you, though. Look at how well you’re doing for yourself.” Sincerity is hard to come by lately, but I have a lot in this instance. “You have a successful company. You’re influential and wealthy now.” I nod my head while pressing my lips together. “It’s a fine life.”

He sips at his whiskey before standing up.

“You’ve always been good at deflecting. I don’t want to talk about me. Vivian…”

He stops dead.

What could he possibly say? Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you ask my help?

I burned that bridge three years ago.

I sip my wine and stand up next to him.

“It’s done. I have a new life now, one that’s falling apart minute by minute. But I’ve gotta tell you,” I say, gesturing to the view, “this was a great way to spend a peaceful few moments. Thanks for that.”

I hand him my glass and carefully step back into my shoes. Ahhh, I can’t believe how good these feel. Possibly the only good thing to happen lately.

“Wait.” Ken’s face falls into a frown. “You’re leaving?”

That actually warms my heart. He wants me to stay even if it’s just for a bit longer.

“Yeah, sorry. I still want to catch that midnight shuttle. I have places to be, things to do, and my matchmaker is excited to get me ‘back in the game,’ so to speak.”

I reach down to the side table and grab my purse. Ken is still in the same shocked position, holding two glasses and staring.

“Matchmaker?”

I laugh at his disbelief as I flick my wristlet. Hecate is aware of my plans and brings up the streetcar schedule. If I leave right now, I should just make my flight. And though this has been very interesting, and it’s been nice to see Ken when I’m not totally (only a little) embarrassing myself, I have to go. Sitting here reminiscing and drinking won’t make the Flyght permit appear out of thin air. He may be the CEO, but he’s not going to do me any favors. This conversation is not going to change my mission. And I’m tired of expending energy and emotions on things that won’t get me anywhere, like that disastrous date I just had.

“You’re full of questions tonight.” I smile at him, putting on the charm I’ve held back for the past few years while I toiled away at school. Placing my hand on his arm, I make sincere eye contact. “It was good to see you today. I’m sorry again about ambushing you this morning. Maybe our paths will cross again someday.” I turn to walk away. “And thanks for the wine, too. I think I’m going to distill my own moonshine on the ship. Just to save money. At least I have the equipment for it. Let’s hope I don’t kill us all.”

I wave over my shoulder and keep going. It’s nice to have the last word for once, instead of him telling me I’ll regret turning down his marriage proposal and walking away.

Once I’m through the door, I pick up my pace. I have a shuttle to catch.