She had just applied her chapstick when he offered her a drink. They sat in first class, which was almost empty. She didn’t want the drink.
“No thanks,” she said and waved it away.
He never took no for answer. It was the way he arched his brow as he carefully slid the cold drink into her right hand that annoyed her. “You deserve it, drink up!” he insisted.
His eyes were intrusive. And his questions too probing. He asked about her family, her friends, what she did for fun…he even asked what car she drove.
“Let’s keep this professional,” she finally said. Her hands flitted through her long, dark hair and she turned to glance out the window. She wondered if they were over water or land, but they were still too high to know.
Sam removed the untouched drink from her tray and began to help himself. “You did a great job at the conference. The way you spoke to those executives was inspiring. I just wanted to learn what inspires you,” he mumbled.
Lisa turned her attention away from the blanket of clouds that padded her view. She loved flying, she truly did. She loved the fact that she could soar above all the chaos that ensued below. She wanted to forget the conference. Not relive it with Sam.
“I’m just tired,” she lied.
Sam let out a sigh and began to loosen his designer tie. “You disappoint me,” he said. He then took another quick drink of wine.
“The best way to avoid disappointment is to forgo ridiculous expectations,” Lisa spat. She then reclaimed the drink from his hand, and slowly pressed it to her lips.
Sam cracked a lazy grin and nodded his head. “Yes, I suppose I’m a dreamer. But I think it’s done me well.”
The plane jerked and Lisa almost lost her drink again. Sam clasped his hands around hers to steady her glass.
“Thanks,” she croaked, surprised at her own nerves. The turbulence and this wealthy, prying, CEO were just too much. She had just wanted a quiet flight.
Sam leaned over Lisa to look out the window. “It’s going to be raining in Seattle,” he declared.
“What else is new,” she laughed. She could now feel the plane descending and with it, she felt her nerves uncoil. Or maybe it was the wine. But for whatever reason, she smiled at this intrusive, annoying, way too rich CEO, who probably thought he could have any woman he bought a cheap drink.
“So let’s play a game,” Sam asked, eyes bright.
Lisa had already begun to rummage through her purse for her phone. “A game?” she repeated, uninterested. “I bet you are full of games, Mr. Wright, but I need to make a call…”
“It can wait,” he said firmly, “and we won’t have reception for a good fifteen more minutes, just indulge me,” he said.
She was curious. “Okay, what game, we’ve already played twenty questions.”
“True,” he nodded. “But you weren’t very good at that game, let’s hope you fare better at this one.”
Sam reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wallet. He then plucked one of his business cards from the leather and placed it in Lisa’s hands.
“I predict you will call me in the next seven days. That is my bet. How long do you think it will take you to call me? Two or three days? Maybe you miss me the second we’re apart?”
Lisa gritted her teeth. She wouldn’t let him see her slack-jawed. The nerve of this man. He may have chiseled features and decent eyes, in the blue-piercing kind of way, but his lines were sloppy and it was insulting. However, she placed his card in her purse. She knew better than to cause a scene on a plane with Sam Wright. It would get out and be bad for her business.
Lisa jumped up as the plane began to deboard. “Well, I think this is goodbye, Mr. Wright, I have no idea when we’ll meet again, but I’m sure we’ll both survive the wait.”
Sam followed Lisa off the plane and watched as she met up with another man. He had no idea who this man was, but found it interesting that they hadn’t kissed. Perhaps, Lisa would call him tonight, he mused. He wondered how long it would take before the news would leak that he’d just acquired her company, “Sweet Feet.”