Cocky Flyboy by Susan Horsnell
MELISSA
After Tim left to bring his car close to the front doors, the nurse assisted me into a wheelchair. I was relieved to be getting out of the hospital but nervous about moving in with Tim, even if it was only as friends. I still couldn’t understand why he’d made the offer. I was a stranger; someone he knew nothing about. I could have been an ax murderer, for fuck sake. I smiled at the ludicrous thought.
Despite what his reasons may have been, I was grateful for the invitation. Staying with Tim would give me some breathing space and a safe place to stay while I recovered. It would also give me time to figure out my next move. Now Lincoln knew I was in New York, I couldn’t stay. He had tentacles everywhere and would find me again if I stayed. I didn’t trust that he would leave me alone.
Tim had mentioned that his apartment was ‘downtown.’ I guessed that meant closer to the center of the enormous city, which I hadn’t yet had time to explore.
“Ready to spring free?” The nurse placed a paper sack on my lap, explaining it contained the medications I needed and stepped behind the wheelchair as she spoke.
“Everyone here has been very good to me, but I am glad to be going home.” Even though it wasn’t my home.
She patted my shoulder before pushing me from the room towards a bank of elevators. A bell dinged after she pushed the button, indicating the arrival of a car. The doors opened, revealing an empty interior, and she pushed me inside. The descent to the ground floor was rapid, and before long, I was in the large reception lobby. The doors to outside—freedom, was ahead.
I caught sight of Tim standing by his car on the other side of the glass doors and took the opportunity to really look at him. Although my sight was badly limited due to the swelling preventing my eyes from opening wide, I was still able to see enough.
My savior was sinfully handsome. His broad shoulders filled out the black and white geometric print polo shirt to perfection. His biceps bulged beneath the short sleeves and revealed a partial tribal tattoo on the left arm. The shirt was tucked into faded blue jeans held in place by a belt with a gold buckle embellished with flight wings. His thick hair was dark, almost black, and fell in unruly waves. Stubble dotted his jaw. A pair of aviator sunglasses hid what I knew were gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes. The man was a decadent dish, and it didn’t surprise me that he had his choice of women who fell at his feet.
One thing was blatantly obvious as I was wheeled closer; we would always remain in the friend zone. He was way out of my league. So far, in fact, I was surprised I was even in the same universe.
Tim smiled as I reached him, and before the nurse was able to assist me onto my feet, Tim scooped me into his arms. I was deposited into the passenger seat of his car, and reaching across me, he clicked the seatbelt into place.
We both thanked the nurse before Tim closed the car door, rounded the front of the vehicle, and slid behind the wheel. The engine came to life, quietly purring before he drove away.
****
I soaked in the sights of the city as we progressed through the streets slowly, thanks to the heavy, bumper-to-bumper traffic.
When we reached an area signposted as Manhattan, Tim guided the car into the driveway of a towering glass and steel building. It glittered in the sunshine as it reached high into the sky. We came to a stop at a large metal gate, and when Tim keyed in a code, it slid aside, creaking, and groaning as it made progress. Tim drove through the opening, down a ramp, and drew into a parking space beside a BMW X5 four-wheel drive vehicle.
“That’s my other car.” Tim pointed to the X5 as he disengaged himself from the seatbelt and climbed out. “Wait there.”
I did as I was asked, unclipping the seatbelt while admiring the vehicle beside me. Tim obviously had a liking for the luxury brand.
Tim opened the door, removed the paper sack from my lap, and offered his hand to help me out. I slipped my hand into his and flinched when a shiver danced down my spine at the contact.
When Tim locked the car, the beep of the alarm engaging sounded overly loud in the confined space, and the flash of headlights brightened the area momentarily before he led me to a single elevator car marked PRIVATE. The door automatically opened when we were close. Once inside, Tim keyed a code into the pad on a sidewall and the doors closed. I could barely feel any movement as we ascended.
“This is the private elevator to my penthouse. Once you are well enough to come and go as you please, I’ll give you the access code.”
“You live in a penthouse? In this building? Here?” As my words tripped over each other, I couldn’t hide my surprise.
Pilots made good money, I was well aware of that fact, but a penthouse in Manhattan? Panic began to descend over my body. I had assured Tim I would pay him back for my stay, but it would cost me a lifetime to repay the amount of money it would cost to stay in such a place.
When the elevator door whooshed open, I resisted Tim’s efforts to draw me toward a wall of glass housing a door with a chrome handle. I could see into the foyer, an area my previous apartment could have fitted into—twice. A huge waterfall chandelier hung from the high ceiling, casting light over the area. I pulled my hand free of Tim’s.
“Tim, I can’t stay here. I couldn’t afford to pay you back even if I worked two jobs.”
Tim grabbed my hand and spun me until I was standing directly in front of him. My eyes fixed on his suddenly interesting chest. He placed two fingers beneath my chin and tilted my head back until our eyes locked.
“Melissa, please let me help you. I know you’re alone and have nowhere else to go except back to that dingy apartment. Please don’t leave. I don’t care if you never pay me back. Please, let me be a friend.”
He looked so damn sincere; how could I refuse him? Swallowing my pride and deciding to place my trust in the man, I told Tim what I thought he wanted to hear.
“Very well. I would like to be your friend and I am very grateful for your help.”
Taking my hand, Tim led me through the glass door, across the foyer, and into an enormous living room. Another waterfall chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling and cast patterned light over the marble floor. A full wall of glass with a door in the center gave a view of the wide balcony and the city below.
A black leather sectional couch faced a wall that housed a fireplace and what looked like a well-equipped bar. A large flat-screen television was fixed above the mantle. The coffee table and lamp tables were chrome with glass tops, the lamps a shiny chrome with frosted glass shades. Red area rugs added a pop of color to the place.
We made our way to the balcony door, which Tim unlocked. Stepping outside, I noted a hot tub large enough for six people at one end. At the other end was an outdoor grill, table, and chairs.
The railing was glass, allowing views for what seemed like miles. The rail on top was chrome and the glass panels were held together with chrome posts. The view over the skyscrapers of the city and Central Park were stunning.
“I could easily spend hours out here. I wish I could use the hot tub.”
“Once your arm heals, and the cast is off, you can use it as often as you like. There are a couple of loungers on the far side.”
He was expecting me to stay even after I’d healed? I was too weary and hurt to even contemplate the meaning behind what he’d said.
Back inside, he took me past the dining area set off to one side. The table was in the same theme as the living room. The top was glass, framed in chunky chrome, and the chairs were black leather. There was seating for twelve. Maybe Tim enjoyed entertaining.
The kitchen was what stole my breath. I loved to cook, and it was a chef’s dream. There was enough cupboard space for every conceivable appliance, and the door to a pantry capable of housing at least a year’s worth of non-perishable food had been left open. Countertops were black threaded marble, the cupboards glossy white. Tim placed the paper sack on a nearby countertop. A picture window revealed even more views over the city.
A woman I estimated was in her mid-fifties turned from the sink when she heard us enter her space. A deep frown marred her pretty face as she looked over my bruises and swelling. Her fair, graying hair was in a tight twist, and her blue eyes lit up on seeing Tim. Hurrying forward, she drew him into her arms for a hug–she barely reached his shoulders, and he had to bend forward to place a kiss on her cheek.
Wrapping one arm around her, he turned her back to face where I stood.
“Mrs. Pearson, this is Melissa Hansen. As you can see, she suffered a terrible beating at the hands of her ex last night and has just been released from the hospital. Her apartment is in a less than desirable area of Brooklyn, so I have asked her to stay here while she recovers. I also want her safe from her ex, and I’m convinced he’ll be back.”
Mrs. Pearson stepped forward and rested her hands lightly on my shoulders. “You poor sweetheart. I’m pleased you’re staying. I’ll take good care of you. I was about to make coffee; would you like one?”
“In a bucket, please. They would only give me tea at the hospital.”
Mrs. Pearson and Tim laughed at my indignant tone before he thanked her for helping out. She waved a hand dismissively in the air.
“No need to thank me, it will be nice to have Melissa’s company.” She spoke directly to me. “Please call me, Bridget. I have been with Tim for almost a year now and he still insists on calling me Mrs. Pearson.” She glared at Tim in mock disgust.
“I was taught to respect my el…”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Timothy.”
I burst out laughing at their banter and then winced at the pain it caused.
“Come with me, I’ll show you the rest of the apartment, then you need to rest.” Tim gathered my hand once again.
I didn’t want to be alone, and coffee was my immediate priority.
“I’d love to see the suite, but then I’d love to relax on the couch and have a coffee if I may.”
“Of course, I want you to treat this as your home while you’re here.”
We passed by a staircase, crossed through the living room, and entered a hallway. A short distance along, Tim opened a door on the left and stepped back, allowing me to enter.
“This is your suite, and mine is at the far end of the hall.”
I stepped into the living area of the suite. The wall before me was wall-to-ceiling glass, which enabled spectacular views over the city and river.
Like the main living room, a leather couch faced a fireplace that had a flat-screen television fixed above. Two glass-topped tables were placed at each end, and a red rug gave the area color. Two white doors were beside each other on another wall. Opening one, I stepped through the opening into a bathroom.
The bathroom was generous, boasting his and hers sinks set in a black countertop above three white gloss drawers. The toilet was alongside. On the opposite wall was a jacuzzi bath and walk-in shower featuring a large rain shower head hanging from the ceiling. Over the sink was a lighted mirror, which I avoided; I had no desire to see the current state of my face.
Tim waited patiently while I moved onto the next door and pushed it open. I sucked in a breath. The bedroom was unlike anything I had ever seen. A king-sized bed sat in the center on an elevated platform. White nightstands with chrome and frosted glass lamps sat on either side. The wall of glass in this room also gave a view of the river, bridges, and numerous skyscrapers. I opened another door in one corner to reveal a closet of shelves, drawers, shoe rails and hanging space. My meager belongings in such a large space looked rather pathetic.
My purse had been placed on one of the shelves, and I removed my iPad and charger.
“What do you think?” I jumped when Tim spoke from behind me and spun around.
“I think I’ve died, and this is some kind of heaven.”
Tim laughed, took my hand, and we headed back to the main living room. He pointed at the staircase as we passed. “Those steps lead to the roof where there is a lap pool, cabana, sauna, bathroom and outdoor grill. It’s lovely up there on a warm, sunny day.”
I sat on the couch, feeling exhausted and overwhelmed with the luxury. Tim moved a small glass table close, and Bridget set down a large mug of coffee along with a plate containing two cookies.
“Thank you, Bridget. You don’t have to wait on me. I’m sure you have plenty to keep you busy without my adding to your workload.”
“It’s no trouble at all, darlin’.” She went back to the kitchen, and when she returned, it was with coffee and cookies for both her and Tim.”
“How are you feeling, honey? Do you need something for pain?” Tim inquired while studying my face.
“No, thank you, I’m fine. I’ve had worse. Hopefully by tomorrow, some of the swelling will have gone down, and my vision will be better.”
Tim sat beside me on the couch while Bridget sat in a chair opposite. Snagging a cookie, I bit into the crunchy treat, savoring the buttery goodness.
“These are so good, Bridget. Did you bake them?”
“I did. I cater to Tim’s sweet tooth a couple of times a week.”
“That’s why I have to work out every day, or I would be too heavy for the plane. Do you mind if I ask you some questions, Melissa?”