Star Crossed (11 page)

Do what you can
, he’d say.
Leave the rest to your teammates and whatever higher power you believe in
.

Actually, he might have picked up that last at an AA meeting.

As they pulled onto the tarmac, Martin was waiting outside the plane. He introduced himself to Luke, who returned his handshake without his usual megawatt display of charm. A.J. wondered if he were tired. He’d gone through a lot yesterday.

“Szymanski’s kipped out,” Martin informed her before shifting his gaze to Luke. “Your partner Kevin Reyes is on board. I probably annoyed him by going through his bags. He claimed you wouldn’t mind him joining you on the flight.”

Luke blinked like maybe he minded a little bit—or maybe was surprised. “That’s fine. I mean, it’s not his jet but we do business together so . . .”

He trailed off as they climbed the plane’s rolling metal steps. A.J. didn’t have to look at Martin to know he’d flagged Reyes already for a deep background check.

“Wait until you get a load of this plane,” he said aside to her.

His tone of admiration was unexpected. Hoyt-Sands had numerous well-heeled clients, many of whom leased or owned aircraft.

She tabled her curiosity while two crisply dressed flight attendants greeted Luke. The women’s pleasure at seeing him appeared genuine. Luke flirted back in a friendly, familiar way, warmer with them than he’d been with Martin.

A.J. didn’t understand Martin’s warning until they entered the main cabin.

“Whoa,” she said, her steps faltering.

The body of the jet was wide, but it wasn’t the size that startled her so much as the furnishings. Creamy leather and lacquered wood met her eyes everywhere she turned. The windows were edged in silver, and the air smelled of fresh-cut flowers. Apart from the lamps and seats being bolted down, the space resembled a really nice modern living room. The soft silk-wool carpet must have been custom made. Luke’s initials were discreetly monogrammed into it.

This was
his
jet, not some lease share.

“Is that a
fire
place?” she burst out.

“Not log-burning,” Luke said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “That would be hazardous.”

She shook herself. “Right.” She looked around more professionally. A passenger she assumed was Kevin Reyes rose from a swiveling designer chair.

Reyes was one of those men who starts looking middle aged at thirty. His straight brown hair was thinning on the top, his softening waist in need of a healthier diet and more activity—a diagnosis his too-flushed complexion seconded. His suit was probably expensive but didn’t fit him the way it should. His eyes were good, sky blue and intelligent. They’d pull women in even if he weren’t a big movie producer. Though he wasn’t as tall as Luke, he wasn’t short: 5’10” or so, she thought.

He broke into a wolfish smile for her. A.J. didn’t like the gleam it brought to his eyes. The light was cold, like a true predator’s.

“Well, well,” he said. “Leave it to Casanova here to find protection who looks like you. I don’t suppose I could hire you to guard me instead.”

A.J. gave him polite blank face. “You must be Mr. Reyes.”

“Kevin, please.” He took her offered hand between both of his. The double clasp didn’t have the intimate effect he intended. His palms were colder than the plane’s air conditioning accounted for.

He drinks too much
, she thought, the knowledge clicking into place from experience. It wasn’t noon, nor were any glasses out, but now that she was looking for it she caught the faintest whiff of liquor on his person.

“Kevin,” she agreed, her politeness not budging. “I’m A.J., and of course you’ve met my colleague Martin already.”

Reyes’ florid face tightened. “I had that pleasure,” he said coolly.

A.J. concluded Martin’s search of his bags wasn’t forgiven.

“Kev,” Luke said, breaking into the slightly chilled moment. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got a script I’d like you to read.”

“Not that highbrow horror thing,” Kevin said, his distaste unconcealed. “I thought we decided to pass on that.”

“You decided.” Luke’s manner was deliberately mild. “But I read it. The writing’s tight. Smart. I know it’s not up your alley, but we could see if Garcia will direct. It’s totally his wheelhouse. Artsy
and
genre.”

“Garcia?” Kevin looked startled.

“He’ll talk to us,” Luke assured with a grin. “We’re important these days. Anyway, I think it’s time Two Dudes branched out beyond action flicks.”

This seemed to startle Kevin too. He recovered after a blink. “All right,” he said. “Leave the script with me. I’ll give it another chance.”

“Great.” Luke’s smile was blinding, his approval washing out in a golden wave. “I appreciate it, bud.” He dug the bound pages from his carryon. Kevin accepted them dazedly. A.J. guessed he wasn’t immune to Luke’s charm either. “I’ve got work to do in the private cabin, but I’ll catch you later. You coming?”

This question was for her. Luke’s expression was too innocent. No doubt he had plans for the cabin that had nothing to do with work. A.J. wasn’t sure it mattered. She had questions for him, and she’d have better luck getting answers without an audience.

She nodded then threw a look over her shoulder at Martin. “You need anything right now?”

“It’ll keep,” said the older man, which meant he’d discovered something he thought she ought to hear.

She immediately wanted to know what but shrugged internally. Martin’s information would have to wait. For the moment, Luke took priority.

The private compartment was one of two in the fuselage’s rear. Since she hadn’t seen Szymanski yet, A.J. assumed he was zonked out in the second. Knowing Martin would have checked and secured it, she let Luke precede her into the small bedroom. The bed was a queen, the space that remained enough for a built-in desk and a couple chairs. A flat screen hung on the wall, plus a sleek stereo system. Luke stowed his carryon, toed off his designer shoes, and sat on the mattress edge. He looked at her, his green eyes alive with thoughts.

“You going to stand up the entire flight?”

She lowered herself to one of the bolted chairs, which included a seatbelt. “I have questions for you.”

He leaned back on his elbows, thighs sprawled and long legs bent. Christ, he was sexy just doing that. “Not fun questions, to go by your expression.”

“You left some blanks on my dad’s questionnaire. I get why. People don’t like admitting their friends and associates might have it in for them. All the same, I need to know who could be harboring a grudge.”

Luke shifted on his butt. “What’s the deal between you and your dad?”

A.J. compressed her mouth. “This isn’t the time for deflection.”

“It isn’t deflection. It’s a trade. You want answers and so do I.”

“That isn’t how this works.”

“Humor me. Or don’t you care if I cooperate?”

Of course she cared. Maybe more than was strictly professional.

“Fine,” she huffed. “What do you want to know?”

He smiled faintly. “Why do you act like . . . I want to say like you miss your dad even when he’s there. Maybe like you expect him to let you down. Did he do that in the past?”

A.J. frowned at him. “You couldn’t softball this, could you?”

“Nope,” he confirmed, clearly not about to let her off the hook.

A.J. released a sigh. “Fine. My dad used to be a fireman. He made it through 9-11 when the towers came down, but a lot of his friends didn’t. Afterwards, he decided to enlist. To fight in Afghanistan. I never heard my mother yell the way she did when he broke the news. She said it was bad enough he risked his life charging into burning buildings. She accused him of having a death wish.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t
think
so. I think it was a patriotism thing. Or survivor’s guilt. My dad didn’t know how else to honor his fallen colleagues. Anyway, he joined the Rangers and made it out again. The problem was he didn’t come back the same. I don’t think he found what he was looking for over there.”

Luke’s gaze was sharp. “PTSD?”

“Probably. He drank a lot. Wouldn’t talk. Barely slept. He couldn’t keep it together enough to hold down a job. Cue more fights and more drinking and one day he moved out. Just disappeared. We didn’t hear from him for a year.” Her voice roughened. She didn’t want it to, but it was too late to hide the sound. “Me and my mom were afraid he was dead. Finally, one of his military buddies called to tell us he’d crashed with him.”

Though she knew Luke heard her emotion, he didn’t let his face react. She suspected he was too smart to display sympathy. “How old were you?”

“My last year of high school, so seventeen. Dad didn’t come to my graduation, or my birthday, or even send a card at Christmas. Long story short, my mom divorced him. The funny thing is, after she did—I didn’t know this at the time—but he began to straighten out. He started going to AA and partnered up with Martin to found the firm. By the time he hired me, he was four years sober.”

Luke regarded her silently, computing what she said. The engines revved, the jet beginning to move from its standstill toward the runway. A.J. glanced out the cabin’s window, checking everything was okay—at least she told herself that’s why she turned away. Luke’s sharp eyes made her feel exposed. When she looked back, he’d hitched one heel up onto the bed.

“We’re taking off,” she pointed out. “You should be in a seat buckled up.”

His mouth twitched, but he obeyed. The chairs weren’t bolted next to each other, so he swiveled his to face hers. He stretched his black-socked feet in her direction but didn’t quite touch her shoes.

“Your parents didn’t try to get back together?”

“No, you don’t. You answer my questions now.”

He grimaced. “I don’t have enemies.”

A.J. snorted. “You have one on this plane. What’s more, you know it. You didn’t want Kevin Reyes hitching a ride with you.”

“Kevin’s fine. Anyway, his safety could be at risk too. Why should he fly commercial?”

“He resents you,” she said firmly. “Your success. Your looks. Definitely your luck with women. You threw him when you said you were thinking of someone else to direct that horror film.”

Luke didn’t enjoy her reading him. “Kevin knows I respect his talent.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Action is his forte. Fight scenes. Car chases. Blowing stuff up.”

“It’s not me you need to convince.”

Luke lowered his brows at her. He couldn’t deny what she’d said. A.J. pressed her advantage.

“Why aren’t you equal partners? Reyes only owns a quarter of Two Dudes.”

“Because I bought out his other quarter. When we got our first big checks, the money went to his head. He partied too hard, racked up some gambling debts. We’re friends so I bailed him out.”

“You paid more than his share was worth,” she guessed.

“Jesus,” he burst out. “If you already know the answers . . .”

“He’s an alcoholic,” she said, because it was best to get hard truths out all at once.

“No, he’s not. I mean, sure, he can drink but—”

“He is,” A.J. said. “Trust me. I know the signs.”

“That doesn’t mean he’d try to kill me! He’s my
friend
.”

Luke was genuinely angry. Luckily, the roar of them taxiing down the runway muffled his raised voice.

“You’re right,” she said more gently. “Chances are Reyes isn’t behind the shooting. He probably knows he couldn’t run Two Dudes as well without you. On the other hand, because he resents you, his subconscious might cause him to let information slip. He shouldn’t be in the loop on your travel plans.”

“I didn’t put him in the loop. He must have called the hangar to find out when I was leaving.”

“You didn’t take him off the list of people whose questions they should answer.”

“It didn’t occur to me!”

“And if it had?”

Luke glared at her, answering her without words.

“I know this is hard,” she said. “You don’t want to hurt your friends’ feelings by implying you distrust them. You have to, though. No one’s going to take your safety as seriously as you.”

“And you,” he said but not like this pleased him.

“And me,” she agreed calmly. She gripped the chair as the jet lifted off. She only tensed for a second. His pilot was good. The takeoff was butter smooth.

Luke didn’t stop to admire it.

“I hate this,” he said. “Really,
really
hate this. I
want
to give my friends the benefit of the doubt. It’s important for me to choose to trust people.”

A.J. cocked her head, something in his statement alerting her. Why did he put it that way? That he
chose
to trust people. In her experience, either you were trusting or you weren’t. “For the time being, you need to set that urge aside.”

Luke leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Okay. For the time being, I’ll try.”

*

Luke freed himself from his seat as soon as their ascent leveled off. Because there wasn’t room to pace, he crawled up on the bed to look out the window, where he tapped his front teeth with a thumbnail. A.J. watched him without comment, still buckled in her chair. Given what she’d said about Kevin, he didn’t suggest they have a drink. Moodily, he wondered if she were right. Was his partner an alcoholic? Luke rarely saw Kev drunk, but he did have a hollow leg. Frequent inebriation probably increased a person’s capacity.

To be honest, was Luke surprised by the suggestion?

He glanced at his companion. A.J. had pulled out her phone and was reading messages. She was too damn calm. Luke getting her to confide in him seemed to have changed nothing. Though he knew it was childish, he wanted to rattle her.

He said the first thing that came to mind. “Your doctor friend, Nigella.”

A.J.’s head jerked up. “What?”

“She put you and your dad back in touch. I remember what she said in the examination room about it being time for you to forgive him.”

A.J.’s eyebrows went up. “You really do have a good memory.”

“When it comes to you, I remember everything.” He remembered more than she could imagine. The gritty feel of the key she’d pushed through the cellar window. Her army shorts and gray T-shirt. Even her skinny tomboy knees didn’t elude his recall. Every minute they spent together made him surer his rescuer had been her.