No Escape by Julie Moffett
Chapter Two
Lexi Carmichael
I hate flying.
There, I said it. Hate, hate, hate. Regardless, I do a lot of it for a geek girl who detests getting into a vehicle that propels itself thousands of feet above the ground without a safety net. I used to think that experiencing so many flights would inure me to flying, but it hasn’t. My recent plane crash should’ve been the perfect excuse for swearing off flying for the rest of my life, but no. Here I stood in my foyer, waiting for a limo to take me to the airport so I could pay money to have another near-fatal travel experience.
Ugh.
I hadn’t slept well last night, which had caused the impromptu nap and subsequent dog/limo/mother-in-law nightmare. I should have known better than to read that article on flight in Scientific American before bed. Unfortunately, I’d discovered there was no mutual agreement among scientists on what generates the aerodynamic force known as lift. The aerodynamic theory of lift has been split into followers of a technical camp and a nontechnical camp, both of which have differing ideas on what keeps a plane in the air. I read both theories at length and came to my own conclusion that neither offers a complete or comprehensive explanation of all the physical forces that keep an airplane aloft.
So, yeah, reading that article about air travel made it much easier for me to fall asleep. Not.
Now, if I was talking about virtual travel, all would be cool. I’m all about virtual. That’s my world, and it’s where I’m the most comfortable. My name is Lexi Carmichael and I’m a twenty-six-year-old coder, hacker, and master of my own virtual domain. I double-majored in mathematics and computer science at Georgetown University and now work for a cyberintelligence company, X-Corp, in the suburbs of Washington, DC. Virtual flying, unfortunately, is not in my future. In three and a half hours, I’ll be boarding a real airplane to Italy for my brother-in-law’s wedding.
It seems weird to say “brother-in-law,” because I’m only recently married myself. My husband, Slash, and I accidentally got married in quite an unexpected and nontraditional way just a few weeks ago. We’re still having an official church wedding this spring with our families and friends, which I’d skip if I could, but I can’t, since I’m half of the main attraction. But I couldn’t stress out about my own wedding now because I was too busy freaking out about flying, as well as meeting my in-laws for the first time.
“Relax. It’s going to be fine.”
I stopped pacing the foyer and glanced at Slash, who leaned against the wall next to our suitcases. Dressed in dark jeans, a navy sweater, and a leather jacket, he looked dangerous and sexy all rolled into one. In some ways, he seemed out of place in suburban America, when he would have been perfectly suited to a fancy yacht on the Mediterranean Sea with no shirt, dark sunglasses, and hair blowing in the wind. But he’d laugh if I told him that, so I didn’t. Besides, although he’s nice to look at, I’m way more impressed with his stellar mind and hacker skills. He’s the smartest person I know, and that’s saying a lot, because I know a lot of really smart people.
He walked over and put his hands on my shoulders. “Still thinking about the nightmare?”
I sighed and tried not to look guilty. Social events always stress me out. Having to navigate a big wedding that included my husband’s parents, whom I hadn’t met yet, was daunting. “I’m thinking this is a really bad idea.”
“Which part?” He looked directly into my eyes, knowing that more than anything, I appreciated forthright communication. He knew he’d have to reassure me at least a hundred times before we got to Italy for several different reasons. I guess he wondered which issue was bothering me the most.
“The whole part,” I said. “Flying…again. Meeting my in-laws for the first time. Bringing my parents with us to meet your parents. Having to socialize with people I don’t know. The list goes on, but those are the big ones. What were we thinking? Why didn’t we just fly my parents to London to meet your parents without us having to go with them?”
He tucked a strand of my long brown hair behind my ear and spoke in the calm, reasonable voice he always uses when I’m on the verge of losing it. “We both agreed that having them meet in Italy, a neutral location, before our wedding made the most sense. Gio’s wedding provided the perfect opportunity with lots of people around, taking the focus and pressure off us. I know you don’t like to fly, but we’ll be traveling together, which you assured me makes it a bit easier for you to manage. Right?”
I nodded reluctantly. “Right.”
“And I do believe it was you who said it would be a wise move if our parents met at some place other than at our wedding for the first time.”
I pressed my hands against my temples. “I know I said that. I’m just reserving the right to second-guess myself.”
He chuckled, pulling me into his arms and resting his chin on top of my head. I was being irrational and cranky, but social pressure always did that to me.
“They’re going to love you, cara. They already do.”
“They love what you said about me. What if they don’t love the real me? Or what if I say or do something stupid, like trip and fall on your mother when we first meet, or my parents tell them an embarrassing story about me growing up, and they end up intensely disliking us?”
“Then let’s have a plan.” His brown eyes softened as he tucked another strand of hair behind my ear. “If you trip or stumble when you meet my parents, I’ll catch you before you fall. If your mom starts telling the story about the time you stuck a Darth Vader Lego figure up your nose, I’ll give my mom permission to tell the story about when I was six, ate a dozen cannoli, and threw up all over Nonna’s house. Then, if anything else goes sideways, we’ll have a secret signal. How about you tap the right side of your nose if you need a rescue, and I’ll do the same?”
“I like the idea of a plan,” I said, mulling it over. “I just have to tap my nose? I can do that.”
“You can.”
A honk sounded out front. Slash released me, opened the door, and waved. “It’s the limo with your parents. Time to go.”
Before he reached for our suitcases, his arms encircled me one more time, one of his hands resting at the small of my back. “Look, you’ve got this. We’ve got this. We’re already family, and we’re going to stay that way no matter what happens, okay?” He pressed a light kiss on my mouth, and I caught the scent of mint toothpaste and felt the slight scratch of the scruff on his cheeks.
I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and stay like that forever. It was moments like this that reminded me how lucky I was to have him. Romantic love was exciting and captivating, and I enjoyed the benefits of that, but for someone as logical as me, finding a compatible partner wasn’t just about physical attraction or pairing up with someone who matched my exact likes and dislikes, although that was helpful. It was about finding someone who could help me grow, bring me out of my shell, and help me to see what was holding me back in life. Slash had done that for me. He’d always done that for me. He’d given me the courage to make the life changes I desired and stood by me no matter what kind of anxiety attacks or second thoughts I had about it.
I took a deep breath. Freaking out wouldn’t help anyone, especially me. “You’re right, Slash. I’m overthinking this. It’s going to be fun. Besides, it’s not our wedding—it’s just a family get-together where everyone is going to like each other.” I’m pretty sure he knew I was trying to convince myself rather than him. Still, the tenderness and kindness in his gaze caused my heart to turn over in my chest.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered against my cheek and then pressed his forehead against mine. “We’ve got this.” We stood like that for a couple of heartbeats before he pulled away, disappearing out the front door with our suitcases, leaving me to lock up.
I took a moment alone in the foyer to collect myself. I did feel a bit better, and I marveled how he could do that with just a few words. Still, as I set the alarm and locked the door, I couldn’t help but worry the little black cloud of trouble that followed me around would want to come with us.
“Just stay here,” I murmured to the cloud. “Please, I really need this to go flawlessly.”
I had no idea if my request would work, but I figured begging was definitely worth a shot.