Private Jet

Christopher

“Leila, I’m not joking.”

She grinned. “Okay, sure, I’ll pack a bag. Give me a minute.”

She walked out of the living room, leaving me alone. I scanned the scant décor and wasn’t surprised there weren’t any pictures on the walls. It was all very sterile. When she returned a couple of minutes later, she was carrying a small carry-on type bag.

“Ready?”

“Yep, let’s go to dinner, or Niagara Falls,” she said with a wink.

Obviously, she thought I was joking. I couldn’t wait to see her face when we showed up at the airport. I followed the signs to the right parking area. I reached in the back and grabbed my own overnight bag along with hers. I got out of the truck and opened her door for her. She made no move to get out.

“Are you coming?”

“You’re serious?” she gasped.

“Yes.”

She looked over my shoulder, staring at the airport beyond. I could see the nervousness on her face. “I’m not sure I should go in there,” she whispered.

I leaned forward. “They’ll never know it was you.”

“You k