All Blues by Marie Wathen

Author:Marie Wathen [Wathen, Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Marie Wathen
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

Standing on the enclosed back patio, overlooking the black lake below my house, I gulp down my third cup of coffee waiting on my driver. My cell phone, gripped tightly in my other hand, rings, and I answer it quickly without first looking at the name.

“Mr. Sloane, I’ve located her,” Max tells me, and I slip my eyes closed.

“Is she okay and where…”

He cuts me off. “She is safe, but doesn’t want to be found right now.”

Finally, I breathe again, but it isn’t good enough. I need those eyes. Even though he can’t see me, I nod my head while reaching behind me to grab the arm of the patio chair and then sit. My voice cracks, when I say, “I need to see her.”

“I understand, but let her come to you. Everyone must get through the next couple of days naturally. I expect you’ll make a trip up north.”

“Yes,” I snap, and then calmly explain, “No one from the cartel is flying into Baltimore. I should be in the clear. I must see Natalie.”

“As you should,” he agrees and then says, “Contact me when you return. We have several items to discuss.”

“Count on it,” I threaten right before he disconnects.

Jude, I let my thoughts linger on my best friend.

A knock on the door behind me pulls me out of where my mind was just about to go. Glancing over my shoulder, I spot Bales.

“Mr. Sloane,” he calls, “When you are ready sir, your car is out front.”

“Yes.” I turn, following him out and then head to the airport. Alone.

Once inside my jet, a new flight attendant greets me, “Good morning, Mr. Sloane. Welcome aboard.” Her light blue eyes shimmer while devouring me from head to toe. She twirls a long curly brown lock of hair around her pointer finger before sensually gliding her hand down her chest and resting on her full hip. “My name is Yazmene, and it is a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Thank you, and likewise,” I reply, scanning over her uniform, noting several adjustments that she has apparently taken upon herself to make, including shortening the length of her skirt to hit two inches below her slit and unbuttoning her top down to the fourth button, allowing her large breast to spill from the opening.

With a wolfish smile and flirty wink, she says, “I’m sure that I will love every moment of our time together, sir. We are on schedule for departure in ten minutes and will arrive in Baltimore in two hours.” She gestures toward my seat, which I take immediately. She stands close by, her hand lying on the armrest of my chair, and then drops to squat beside me. “Would you like a whiskey for takeoff?” Arching an eyebrow, I tap a finger twice against the face of my watch. Holding my gaze, she explains, “I’m sorry, sir. I realize that it’s still early, but I was instructed to offer without consulting the clock.”

She rises up, her tits less than a foot from my face.

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