Nathan
A cold gust of wind blew across the tarmac as I strode toward Dan’s private jet, my suitcase swinging at my side. I could see Dan’s tall and imposing form up ahead, waiting.
He had been waiting all morning; or so he had said.
“Nathan,” he said, stretching his arms out to the sides as I approached. “How kind of you to finally show.”
I managed a stiff smile. “Apologies for the delay,” I said as a nearby attendant took my bag. “Thank you for waiting.”
Dan smirked, but said nothing. Together, we walked up the steps to the airplane and took our places in the soft leather seats. Between us sat a tray containing two champagne flutes and a bottle of champagne, despite the early hour.
“Drink?” Dan asked, holding up the bottle.
For a moment, I considered saying no;
