Page 25 of Salt Kiss
At JFK, we are escorted right onto our next plane, and I almost run into the back of Mark when he stops in front of a section the size of a lounge. The attendant is showing him inside, and then I realize that the lounge is hisseat, a plush leather armchair in a small room with a closing door, full-sized television, table, separate bed, and vase of fresh flowers.
It’s...slightly nicer than the C-17s that took me to Carpathia.
I could stare at the vase of flowers for the entire flight.
Flowers in the air. Pointless. Lovely.
“You’re here, Tristan,” Mark says right as I’m glancing down at my ticket, expecting to see a seat in the normal, non-vase-of-flowers section, and I look up to see the attendant lowering the far wall of Mark’s cabin to reveal an adjoining suite.
“The beds will fold out together to make a double bed,” the attendant says with the air of a thoughtful host, and I flush so deeply my cheeks burn.
“Oh, we don’t—I don’t—”
“We’ll start with the Krug,” Mark tells the attendant before I can finish stammering out that we don’t need a double bed. The attendant nods gracefully and leaves.
I step hesitantly from the aisle into my suite and stare at Mark from across the lowered wall. He’s already setting his briefcase down and shrugging his suit jacket from his well-made shoulders. I watch for a minute, my face flushing hotter as his shirt pulls tight over his body, and then tear my gaze away, deciding to follow his lead. By the time my jacket is hung in the narrow suite closet and my small messenger bag stowed, the champagne has arrived and we give the attendant our orders for dinner and for breakfast, since the flight is over eighteen hours long.
“Shall we toast?” asks Mark after the attendant leaves and closes Mark’s door behind him.
“To what, sir?”
He thinks for a minute. “To lucky guesses.”
“Have you made any lately?” I ask.
“You,” he says without hesitation. I blush anew.
And then his mouth presses in at the corner. “I hope to be making more very soon.”
“To lucky guesses, then,” I manage to say normally, lifting my glass.
Mark’s midnight eyes burn into mine. “To lucky guesses,” he echoes softly, and then drains his champagne before reaching for his laptop and opening it. I resist the temptation to pull out my own laptop again. I have the particulars of the trip already memorized—the people, the places, the purposes. Mark is meeting with the owner of a kink club in Singapore to discuss a mutual membership option and also with a member of Lyonesse who’s due to pay his membership fee. A fee he’ll only deliver in person, which I’ve noticed is very common. People feel safer giving up secrets when they can see your face, when you’re giving them expensive drinks and assurances the information will never ever be connected to them should it get out...unless they want it to be.
It should be an easy trip, with plenty of time between the two appointments, and that’s why I chose this trip to talk to Mark.
About Strassburg. About...me.
But as I watch him refill his champagne glass, I remember my phone call this morning.
You don’t know him. No one does.
Can I really offer to do what Strassburg did when I still know next to nothing about him?
Yes, my body sings;yes, my heart sings too. But my head reminds me of all the times I’ve fallen hard—of how foolish I felt when I learned the object of my desires was already in a relationship or wasn’t interested. In high school mostly, but also at West Point once or twice. The idea of falling again terrifies me.
I’m already immersed in Mark. If I add sex to the mix, I might be lost completely.
Mark sets aside his laptop when dinner comes, and after the first course is served, he glances up at me, long fingers grasping the stem of his wineglass. He doesn’t drink yet.
“Well, Tristan?”
I’m suddenly nervous that I’ve forgotten something crucial, made some error of bodyguard etiquette during our first international trip. “Yes, sir?”
“You’ve been sneaking glances at me for the last two hours. Out with it.”
“With what?”
“Whatever question you’re burning to ask. I promise I’ll answer.”
