3. Scarlett

Chapter 3

Scarlett

Waiting on my doorstep, I juggle a roller bag, my handbag, and a rather disgruntled Minnie in her travel kennel. Minnie is not amused by today’s turn of events. She’s glaring at me with those big, judgmental kitty eyes that say, “Really, human? When did I agree to a trip?”

When Noah pulls up in front of my apartment with his sleek, black sedan, I can’t help but marvel at how effortlessly cool he looks, stepping out of the car, completely at ease. It’s unfair, I think, how someone can look so put together while I’m over here wrangling a finicky feline and wrestling with my suitcase.

“Good morning!” I call, as if he’s not already walking toward me with that smooth confidence that always makes me a little flustered.

“Good morning,” he greets with that smooth voice of his that somehow manages to be both charming and composed. He seems to notice the array of bags and my precarious grip on Minnie's carrier. “Here, let me help you with that.”

I open my mouth to politely decline but then promptly change tactics as the carrier nearly slips from my grasp. “Thanks, that’d be great.”

Noah swoops in to rescue the situation, thus freeing me from nearly dropping Minnie. As he leans down to peer into her kennel, I realize this is the moment of truth. I hold my breath, hoping for feline cooperation because, let’s face it, Minnie is basically a testy grand dame when it comes to dealing with strangers.

“Hello, Minnie,” he says softly, channeling whatever mysterious charm he has into this first encounter with my furry companion.

Minnie, her dignity affronted by the confines of her temporary prison and this new human, offers a dramatic hiss and even I’m caught off guard. It’s a classic Minnie move, making her feelings known with absolutely zero subtlety.

“Minnie!” I fuss, shooting her a look that I hope conveys a semblance of disapproval. She merely flicks her tail in disdain, settling into the corner of her crate with an air of martyrdom.

Noah chuckles, an amused sparkle in his eye. “No offense taken. I’m guessing she’s not a fan of new travel companions.”

“To say the least,” I mutter, putting on my best apologetic smile. “She’s very spoiled.” What a freaking understatement.

“Let’s see if we can win her over,” he says, surprisingly undeterred by the tumultuous introduction. “What kind of treats do cats like?”

“She can’t resist anything with tuna in it,” I reply, already envisioning Minnie’s opportunistic nature in full swing at the very mention of food.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiles and helps me into his car.

The private jet's cabin is the epitome of understated luxury, all sleek lines and creamy leather seats. I feel a bit like an imposter in this plush surrounding as Minnie and I settle in, trying not to look as awed as I feel. Meanwhile, Minnie, in true kitty fashion, acts like she’s gracing us all with her regality by allowing her presence.

“Everyone comfortable?” Noah asks, turning to flash a smile that nearly makes me forget to breathe properly.

I nod, adjusting Minnie's carrier beside me and giving her a reassuring pat, even as she throws Noah a disdainful glare. There are plenty of empty seats, but Noah chooses the one right next to mine, sinking into it with an effortless grace.

Minnie voices her opinion on Noah’s seating choice by letting out a soft growl before pointedly shifting further into the depths of her carrier. I chuckle softly, nudging Minnie with a finger. “Be nice, Miss Diva.”

As the plane hums to life, I consciously begin my go-to relaxation breathing routine. Flying isn’t really my favorite activity. I always plan to act cool and collected, but my pulse spikes the moment the engines roar to life.

Beside me, Noah runs through some emails on his laptop, seemingly oblivious to my sudden onset of nerves. I exhale slowly, finding a pace with my breaths and focusing on the steady rhythm to keep any latent anxiety at bay.

And then, it happens. My breath catches for a whole different reason when Noah’s warm and unexpectedly reassuring hand closes around mine. I freeze as every piece of my planned composure flies right out the window. It’s like he’s hit the pause button on time.

“You okay?” His voice is low, just loud enough to be heard over the plane’s engines.

"Um, yeah," I stutter, caught entirely off-guard. His hand holding mine throws my senses for a loop. My heart beats double time while electricity tingles along my nerves.

Some spark lingers in the air between us, and suddenly, I’m deploying those relaxation breaths for an entirely different purpose.

“There’s nothing like being thousands of feet in the air to put things in perspective,” Noah says softly, his thumb brushing gently across my knuckles in a gesture that feels incredibly intimate yet effortlessly natural. Who could’ve imagined this turn of events?

Infinite skies stretch beyond us as the plane soars over sprawling landscapes, an endless horizon of possibilities I’m only beginning to comprehend. And for a while, we remain just like this.