Page 13 of Clear Shot (Lauderdale Knights #9)
Hana
The interview went well but the more questions I asked, the less interested I became.
Everyone I spoke to was lovely and the offices are impressive, but the salary is less than I was making in Philadelphia and the cost of living in San Jose is much higher.
They also wanted me to be based in California, which I’m reluctant to do.
If I’m going to stay in the US, I want to at least have the freedom to spend time with my brother and Claudia.
My conversation with Aiden also left me feeling conflicted.
I don’t want to take any job—I really do want to find the right fit that could potentially be long-term.
But that would mean staying with Aiden longer and I don’t know how we’re going to manage since the chemistry between us is still intense.
Frankly, I don’t know how we’ll go a month without jumping each other’s bones, much less a year.
And while I shouldn’t care if he sleeps with other women, I do.
Because it could impact my visa.
Because it would make both of us look bad to our friends.
Because I would die of jealousy.
I have no right to be jealous but my heart and my brain don’t seem to be connecting on that point.
So I’m not sure what to do next.
I’m definitely not taking the job in San Jose if they offer it to me. It’s basically glorified tech support and that’s not what I want to do. There is room for advancement but probably not for a year or two and I don’t think I can sit in a call center for a year or more.
Once the plane is in the air, I log into the WiFi and open my texts. I have several, from my brother, Aiden, and Claudia.
JOHAN: You should stay in California. It looks like there is a hurricane coming. I’m at the airport with Sloane and Joanna, and we’re heading to Atlanta for a few days. Can you change your flight to meet us there?
CLAUDIA: Hey, where are you? Can you call me? Did you hear about the hurricane? Anders and I are packing, we’re going to spend a few days in Philly to avoid it. They’re projecting a category five, which scares the shit out of me. Call me!
Hurricane? How did I not hear about this?
AIDEN: I tried to call but it went right to voice mail so I hope you get this before you get on your flight home. If you can, divert somewhere because this hurricane is looking wild.
What. The. Fuck.
We don’t have hurricanes in Slovakia and we didn’t have them in Philly or Boston either. There were lots of other kinds of storms but hurricanes and tornadoes terrify me, so this doesn’t sound like something I want to experience.
The problem is that I’m already on the plane.
HANA: I’m already on the flight and it’s nonstop.
AIDEN: Shit. Well, I’ll pick you up at the airport but I don’t know if we’ll be able to get on any flights by the time you arrive.
HANA: What will we do? Can we drive?
AIDEN: Traffic is hellacious. I think we’re going to have to ride it out.
HANA: What does that mean? We’re going to stay in Lauderdale during the hurricane?
AIDEN: I’ll get to the airport early and see if I can book us on anything leaving after you arrive—send me your flight info.
I quickly take a screen shot of my boarding pass and text it to him.
HANA: Let me know what happens. But honestly, if you can get on a flight, go without me. I’ll stay at the airport and figure something out.
AIDEN: You’re kidding, right? I’m not going to leave you behind.
HANA: Thank you. I really appreciate you.
AIDEN: You’re my wife. Maybe it’s in name only but I’m never going to abandon you when the chips are down. You should know that about me.
And I do.
That’s the part that makes this so difficult.
There’s a reason I’ve always harbored a crush on him—I just thought it was safer not to act on it because bad boys with tattoos that ride motorcycles and don’t believe in love tend to be my downfall.
HANA: I’ll see you in four-and-a-half hours.
AIDEN: I’ll be waiting.
I close the phone and stare at the video screen in front of me, but I’m not interested in watching movies.
Instead, I start researching hurricanes and the one headed for South Florida.
Hurricane Katherine.
It’s currently a category 4 hovering over the ocean off the coast of Puerto Rico.
From what I’m reading, it’s not a direct hit, which is a good thing since winds can range from 130 to 157 miles per hour.
A direct hit could be catastrophic so I can’t believe they’re forecasting a category five to hit Fort Lauderdale.
On paper, it looks scary.
A category 4 can blow out the windows of a high rise and power loss is almost definite. It doesn’t sound like fun at all.
I wish I’d looked at my messages before getting on the plane but I was talking to my grandmother while we were waiting to board and then the WiFi wasn’t working until the plane lifted off. And by then it was too late.
I close my phone again and say a little prayer that Aiden can find us a flight out of South Florida.
Due to inclement weather, my flight is thirty minutes later than expected, and by the time I meet up with Aiden in the baggage claim area, it’s nearly midnight.
“Hey.” He leans over and brushes his lips across my cheek.
“Did you find us a flight?” I ask worriedly.
He shakes his head, regret etching his handsome features. “There’s nothing. Every single flight is overbooked. And depending on what happens overnight, they may be closing the airport tomorrow anyway."
"What do we do?” I ask worriedly.
“We have a few options. The arena is open to all employees and players who want to hunker down there. It’s a huge concrete building with limited windows, and the area underground is well protected. It’s one of the safer places in town but it won’t be that comfortable.”
That doesn’t sound ideal although I won’t be picky if it means staying safe from this storm. “What’s the other option?”
“Mr. Knight’s house. He sent his wife and daughter out of town but he’s staying and opened his home to anyone who wants to ride it out there. He has guest rooms, generators, and top-notch hurricane doors and windows.”
“Mr. Knight? The owner of the team?”
He nods.
“How do you feel about that?”
“I think it’s better than the arena where we’d be stuck resting on exercise mats and shit.
Felix and Jordan will be at Mr. Knight’s, along with Jace and Tawny.
That was the last I heard. Vaughn, Juliet, Jude, and Chloe will all be at the hospital since Chloe has to work anyway, and they felt a hospital was the best place for a pregnant woman like Juliet. ”
“That makes sense.”
“Most of the team left as soon as they announced that it’s likely going to hit Fort Lauderdale. No one wanted to risk it, especially the guys with families.”
This just keeps getting worse.
“Then I guess we go to Mr. Knight’s? As long as you’re comfortable with it.”
“Of course.” He grabs my bag as it comes off the conveyor belt and we start walking toward the exit.
“Do we have time to go home and get our stuff?” I ask. “I don’t have much with me.”
“Oh, yeah. The hurricane won’t hit until tomorrow night, at the earliest. It’s slowed down now because it’s doing a number on Puerto Rico. And it might still turn away from us, but it’s a big one, that’s why so many guys sent their families away.”
I nod slowly. “Hurricanes sound scary. The research I did was terrifying.”
“They can be. But most people can’t afford to leave so there are ways to mitigate the dangers. Especially at Mr. Knight’s house.”
“You could have gone,” I say softly. “I would have found somewhere to be, like the arena or whatever.”
He shakes his head. “I already told you—I’m never going to abandon you when you need me, Hana. That’s not the man I am. I’m not perfect but I protect what’s mine and you’re my wife. Extenuating circumstances or not, we’re married.”
Why does my stomach flutter with excitement when he says things like that?
“I wish I’d seen the messages before I boarded,” I admit. “I was talking to my grandmother and I saw messages pop up but I figured I’d read them once we were in the air. I didn’t even think about bad weather.”
“Yeah, welcome to Florida where hurricane season starts June first and goes through November.”
“I don’t think I like it here anymore,” I mutter.
He opens the back of his SUV and lifts my suitcase into it while I get into the passenger seat.
I’m touched that he wouldn’t leave without me, but it’s confusing.
He’s sending me every imaginable mixed signal and I feel like we need to talk about it.
Just not now. The only thing I can concentrate on right now is preparing for a hurricane. Packing. Getting a little sleep.
“It’s going to be okay,” he says as he gets behind the wheel. He reaches over and slowly pries apart my hands—I didn’t even realize I was clenching them tightly—and then laces his fingers through mine. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. That’s a promise I can make.”
And I believe him.