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“Nope. She definitely won’t. But you’ll have to prepare yourself. It’s awfully romantic. You might fall for me for real.” He waggles his brows at me.
I bark out a surprised laugh. “Not on your life.”
He grins. “Am I really so repulsive?”
“No…” I backtrack. “You’re just Langston, Ronnie’s best friend—and the enemy.”
Langston laughs. “You’re just mad that Thunder’s been winning so much lately.”
“I’m not mad… But I see it like it is, too.”
* * *
Ifinish the water in my crystal glass and set it aside and glance out the window at the trees beneath us.
I’m wearing a flowy tan blouse and white jeans. My hair has been straightened. I don’t know why I bothered. It’s just Langston. But I do like dressing up, so this is for me, not him.
Langston is wearing a white shirt and tie, his suit jacket casually draped over the seat next to him. I’m sure he’s wearing that suit for himself too…
Annie, our flight attendant, comes up to us. “Would you like me to take your jacket, Mr. Keith?”
“That would be great.” Langston picks it up and hands it to her.
She takes it from him and smiles. “Is there anything else I can get you? A refill on your drink, perhaps?”
He looks at the crystal flute of champagne and hands it to her. “Not at this time.”
“Yes, sir.”
She turns to me. “Ms. Finley? Can I get you anything else before we land?”
“No, thank you.” I’m saving room for dinner.
We’re barely in the air before it’s time for us to land again. We arrive at a small airport in Atlanta. Not the big commercial one. Most families with private jets avoid that place like the plague. I have a headache just thinking about it.
“Don’t you think this is a bit over the top?” I complain.
“Oh no. Heaven forbid I treat you to something fancy. Remember, the more over the top it is, the more your mom will buy into it.”
“What if Ronnie tells them it’s not real?” I ask. Langston told me Ronnie knows we’re planning to fake date.
“He’d better not. I don’t know why he’d do that, anyway.”
“Isn’t he going to get mad if our date ends up being romantic?”
“I’ll let him know there’s nothing actually going on between us, and he won’t care,” Langston explains.
There’s a car waiting for us with our driver, Nate, one of the Atlanta staff members that serves the Keith family. We’ve done so many things together for so many years that we all know the employees that work for the families.
The air is cool, and I wish I’d brought a jacket. But Nate has the car warm, and I slide into the back seat. I scoot all the way over to make room for Langston.
“Where are we going?” I ask when Nate pulls out of the airport.
“You’ll see.”
We drive through traffic and eventually pull up to the Fox Theater. “Are we watching a show? What about dinner?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you go hungry. Heaven forbid you get hangry on me.”