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“Just book commercial.” Rhys sounds pained. “First class. Nonstop. Departing as soon as possible.”

I make a show of checking. “Only one ticket in first,” I lie, even though I see three available. “Guess I’m heading home?”

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “No, you’ll just fly economy.”

Chapter Two

Max

I end up flying first. I refuse to be dragged to Tokyo with zero notice in economy. The romance-novel scenario about how the heroine meets a hottie, starts chatting and hitting it off, might’ve been possible before, but an impossibility now. The first-class seats, which the airline’s marketing dubs “suites,” come with their own doors to keep people out, which I take full advantage of.

Although Rhys grumbled about flying commercial, especially since the flight’s over three hours late, I actually like it. Private jets are fancy, but there isn’t enough privacyfor me. No door to insulate myself from Rhys so I can rest with my feet up. The airline even gave me a set of pajamas to change into! Talk about nice. Certainly comfier than my dress.

After the meal service is over—about as chewy and rubbery as what you’d expect from airline food, even in first class—I get on Wi-Fi and message Jeffrey:Sorry,but another emergency meeting in Toronto and can’t go home today.Rain check on the weekend getaway? I’m really sorry! :crying-emoji:

Oh shit. I glare at the text.Damn you,autocorrect.How can you confuse Tokyo and Toronto?I swear technology is getting dumber each day.

But does it matter? I might as well be going to Antarctica. Rhys has managed to thwart yet another romantic plan. At whatpoint is Jeffrey going to lose his patience? Hopefully never, since I doubt I’ll be able to find another man as understanding.

I head over to Rhys’s suite. “When are we flying back? Need to know for the hotel reservation.”

“Make it seven nights, just in case,” he says, not taking his eyes off the Excel spreadsheet on the laptop screen.

I start to ask,Are we adding any other cities to the trip?then stop. No need to give him any ideas. I already feel awful about being away for so long. My bestie-slash-roommate needed somebody to lean on after our apartment burned down. And Jeffrey needs his girlfriend to be there for his birthday, at least every other year. As understanding as he is, I don’t want him to feel that I don’t value our relationship.

I return to my seat and look for accommodations in Tokyo on the firm’s business travel portal. Almost all the hotels are booked. What the hell? A giant city like Tokyo can’t possibly be full up.

Knowing Rhys, he wants a suite at a full-service hotel that’s close to the company, since he hates wasting time. But it’s a last-minute booking, so there might not be anything suitable.

Wouldn’t it be hilarious if he could only get something equivalent to the worst room at Super 8? Hehehe.

However, since I’m a good, conscientious employee, I continue to search for more options. After half an hour, I finally locate a property that meets all the criteria. I grab it fast, despite the insane rate. It’s corporate—Rhys can afford it.

Then I arrange for the concierge to send a car, since he doesn’t do public transit. He works even during rides, and a lot of documents are confidential.

During the entire flight, Rhys doesn’t bother me. Not even once. The lights over his enclosed pod a row ahead of me stay on. A couple of cabin attendants stop by to ask if he needs anything. He gives both women as much attention as he would alog. Probably working and doesn’t want to be disturbed. Thank God I’m in my own space, because otherwise I’d feel compelled to slave away with him.

At a place as dynamic and fast-paced as RF Investment, the work never ends. There’s always another executive memo to draft and more due diligence to conduct. It’s on me to ensure I recharge and take care of myself. Life is too short. Mom passed away from a blood clot during my freshman year in college, leaving every item on her bucket list undone.

Her sudden death was devastating, especially when I saw that the top item on the list was “See Max happy and fulfilled.” Bittersweet regret and misery pooled in my heart for failing her, even though intellectually I understood I was too young to be happyandfulfilled. She was never going to see it, but I vowed to make her wish come true—hence my three life goals: a good job, financial security and a loving family of my own. I’m almost there. Just need the final item.

When we land after seven p.m., I’m feeling refreshed after catching up on sleep and a couple of movies I was wanting to see. Rhys, on the other hand, looks like an extra-grouchy bear whose hibernation was disturbed. His eyes are slightly bloodshot behind the glasses. His mouth is pressed so tight, you can’t even see the lips. The knuckles on his hand around the phone are bone-white. Oh well. Nobody stopped him from napping.

Once we’re through immigration and customs and safely inside a limo sent by the hotel, I check my phone. A reply from Jeffrey is waiting.

–Jeffrey: Hey, it’s okay. Just take care of yourself and don’t work too hard. We can do something when you’re back.

–Me: You’re the best. What did I do to deserve you?

–Jeffrey: :heart-emoji: I’m the one lucky to have you, babe.

I flush. He’s just so perfect. Love it that we’re both ambitious professionals who give each other space to grow and strive in our careers. He’s the one who’ll help me be happy and fulfilled—I can sense it from the light fluttering in my belly.

A disgusted growl makes me lift my head. Rhys is scowling like somebody just stole his puppy. Not that he has one—dogs are too high-maintenance for someone like him.

Just what happened to put him in such a crappy mood?I surreptitiously check my work emails. Nothing screams white-knuckle emergency. I Google his name and family to see if some scandal has exploded. Lots of articles about them—after all, he has a lot of brothers who are fairly famous. I start to scroll down. No scandal, nothing.

Then I see it.