Chapter 2 - The Broken Itinerary
The charter flight touched down on the tarmac at San Francisco International Airport just as the sun was setting behind the Pacific horizon, painting the sky in violent shades of crimson and violet.
While the jet taxied toward the private aviation terminal, Nathan stood in the narrow galley near the front of the plane, the satellite phone pressed to his ear.
"Nathan? Darling, are you on the ground yet?" Claire Beaumont’s voice drifted through the receiver, smooth, refined, and entirely composed. "The sommelier at the estate just uncorked the '05 Chateau Margaux. The sunset over the valley is absolute perfection. How far away is your driver?"
Nathan stared out the small oval window. Fifty yards away, a sleek black Mercedes sedan was idling on the asphalt, sent by his advance team. Next to it, a yellow airport taxi was waiting to take Emily and Lily to her sister’s apartment in the city.
Through the doorway, he could see Emily struggling to strap Lily into a portable car seat while holding her diaper bag and a beaten-up canvas suitcase.
"Nathan?" Claire’s voice called again, a faint note of impatience creeping into her polished tone. "Are you there?"
"Claire," Nathan said, his voice sounding hollow, as if he were speaking from the bottom of a deep well. "I'm at the airport."
"Wonderful. The terrace is illuminated, and the string quartet is set up. Don't keep me waiting too long, darling. You know how I hate cold appetizers."
Nathan pulled the velvet ring box from his coat pocket. He held it in his palm, looking at the gold-embossed logo of the high-end jeweler in Manhattan. Claire was everything a man in his position was supposed to want: the daughter of a prominent European diplomat, an accomplished art curator, elegant, predictable, and entirely unthreatening to his emotional peace. They had been dating for eight months. They had never once yelled at each other. They had never cried together. They operated on a mutual understanding of prestige and convenience.
It was a contract. Not a life.
"Claire," Nathan said, his grip tightening around the velvet box until his knuckles turned white. "I'm not coming to Napa tonight."
A sharp, stunned silence descended on the line.
"What did you just say?" Claire asked, her voice losing its warm luster, turning cold and crystalline.
"Something has come up," Nathan said steadily. "An emergency. I need to handle it."
"An emergency? Nathan, we have a reservation at Meadowood. My parents are flying in from Geneva tomorrow morning specifically to celebrate our—" Claire cut herself off, taking a sharp breath. "Is this about business? Did the FTC block the maritime merger?"
"No," Nathan replied, looking toward the rear of the cabin where Emily was standing up, carrying Lily on her hip. "It's not business. It's personal. I will call you tomorrow, Claire. I'm sorry."
"Nathan! If you hang up this phone—"
Nathan lowered the receiver and clicked the end button. He stared at the screen for three seconds before powering the device down completely, plunging himself into off-grid darkness for the first time in seven years.
He turned to face the cabin door just as the flight attendant pulled it open, allowing the cool, damp bay air to rush inside.
Emily walked past him, her eyes fixed straight ahead. She wasn't carrying her canvas suitcase; she was struggling to balance Lily, her handbag, and the heavy car seat all at once.
Nathan stepped forward, his long arm sweeping past her to grab the handle of the car seat and the suitcase.
"I've got it," he grunted.
"Nathan, stop," Emily said under her breath as they stepped down the mobile airstrip onto the tarmac. "You don't need to do this. I ordered a cab."
"You're not taking a cab into the city with a toddler at eight o'clock at night," Nathan said, walking past her toward the waiting black Mercedes. His private driver, a former Secret Service agent named Marcus, instantly stepped out, opening the rear door and taking the luggage from Nathan’s hands.
"Mr. Cole," Marcus said smoothly, glancing at Emily and the child with a subtle, trained flicker of surprise before regaining his composure. "To the estate in Napa?"
"No," Nathan instructed, stepping aside so Emily was forced to either get into the car or make a scene on the tarmac. "To the St. Regis in downtown San Francisco. Book the Presidential Suite for Ms. Carter, and set up a second room for me on the same floor."
"Nathan, absolutely not!" Emily protested, her voice rising over the whine of departing jets. "I am staying at my sister Sarah's house!"
"You said Sarah is having surgery tomorrow morning," Nathan countered smoothly, his gray eyes locking onto hers with an unyielding intensity. "Which means her apartment is likely packed with medical equipment, nurses, or stress. Lily needs a quiet place to sleep. You need rest. The St. Regis has twenty-four-hour room service, a private pediatrician on call, and top-tier security."
"I don't want your money!" Emily snapped, her cheeks flushing dark red.
"This isn't about money, Emily!" Nathan stepped closer, his broad frame blocking the cold wind blowing off the bay. "This is about my daughter having a safe, comfortable bed to sleep in tonight! You can hate me all you want. You can banish me from your life tomorrow. But tonight, let me take care of her!"
Emily stared at him, her chest heaving, her brown eyes shiny with anger and unresolved longing. She looked down at Lily, who was rubbing her small eyes, exhausted from the flight.
May you like
"Fine," Emily whispered, her voice laced with defeat. "Tonight. But tomorrow morning, I go to the hospital alone."
"We'll see," Nathan murmured as he helped her into the heated leather interior of the Mercedes.
