I would have, if it weren’t for
<
Mark. His presence made things awkward.
“What’s wrong? Never mind, I’ll do it,” Chris
said, misinterpreting my hesitation. He
approached the photographer. “Dude, great
work today. Dinner’s on me. Let’s go.” The
crew cheered, but the photographer
demurred. “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s our
job.” “Come on, don’t be polite.” Everyone
readily agreed then. I glanced at Mark, still
engrossed in the photos, his face impassive.
There was an artistic intensity about him now,
a side I had never seen. I realized how little I
knew him. I had always seen him as the cold,
distant CEO. The photographer approached
Mark. “Mr. Hamilton, Ms. Lane’s boyfriend is
taking us to dinner.” I sensed the underlying
tension, the crew waiting for Mark’s approval.
“Let’s all go then,” he said, shutting down his
laptop and rising to his feet. Surprise, then
relief, washed over everyone’s faces. Chris
く
grinned and pulled my hand. “Let’s go.”
We chose a Chinese restaurant to
accommodate the large group. Chris seemed
oblivious, but I felt an underlying tension. It
was probably just me. After all, no one knew
about Mark and me. As we ordered, the crew
started chatting. “So, what do you do?”
someone asked Chris. “I fly planes,” he
replied with a smile. “A pilot?” they
exclaimed. Chris nodded. “Wow, that’s
awesome! No wonder you’re so easy on the
eyes. I’ve heard pilots are the cream of the
crop. We see a lot of good–looking guys in
our line of work, but when you walked in, all
the girls were staring.” “A pilot and a flight
attendant – a match made in heaven! So
jealous!” “Honestly, I’ve met a lot of flight
attendants, but Ms. Lane has such a unique
aura. So serene, like a lily. And her skin is
く
flawless!” I blushed at the compliments. “You
guys are too kind.” “Food’s here!” Chris
announced. “Dig in, everyone.” I glanced at
Mark. He hadn’t touched his food, his gaze
fixed on Chris and me. Chris noticed.
“Something not to your liking, Mr. Hamilton?
Want to order something else?” “It’s fine,”
Mark replied curtly, finally picking up his
chopsticks. The photographer raised his
glass. “Mr. Hamilton, it’s a rare opportunity to
have dinner with you. To you, sir,” he said,
using his tea as a substitute for alcohol. Mark
stood and raised his glass. “To everyone.
Thank you for all your hard work.” After the
toast, others followed suit, toasting Chris and
- me. “To Captain Evans and Lane! May
you always be happy together!” “Don’t forget
to send us a wedding invitation! Wishing you
a lifetime of happiness!” Chris filled my
teacup and pulled me to my feet. “Thank you
<
for the well wishes,” he said. “We will.” As we
clinked glasses, I noticed Mark sitting alone
at the table, everyone else standing. It looked
odd, and his employees seemed unsure what
to do, exchanging confused glances. Mark’s
phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, stepping
outside to take the call. The tension at the
table eased. We all took a sip of tea.
After dinner, the photography crew left,
saying they had to go back to work. Mark
emerged from his call and walked towards his
car. Chris usually took taxis, as pilots weren’t
allowed to drive themselves to or from flights
due to company policy. “I’ll drop you back at
your place,” Chris offered. “Don’t worry about
- it. It’s too far out of your way.” “It’s no
trouble. Or, you could just move in with me,”
he teased. “In your dreams,” I retorted. “Come
on, the cab’s here.” He smiled, tightening my
collar against the evening chill. I gave in and
got into the taxi. As we pulled away, I glanced back. Mark’s car was also leaving. At my
apartment building, I started to get out.
“Sleep tight. I’ll pick you up in the morning,‘
Chris said. “No, seriously. We both have early
starts.”
