Best Laid Plans

Las Vegas

Jade

"I thought rich people flew in private jets," Perrie says, her knee bouncing as she jiggles her foot in what I'm guessing is nervous energy. We're at the Heathrow airport awaiting our flight to Las Vegas.

"They're bad for the environment."

"Is first class bad for the environment too? 'Cause I got bumped to first class once and let me tell you, it felt right."

I grin, amused with her. "I can't see that there's any difference between coach and first on your carbon footprint, and you'll be happy to know I booked us first class to Vegas."

"Sweet," she nods, her knee bouncing a bit more. I wonder if she'll say yes once we're standing in front of the officiant. She's agreed to marry me, but she's clearly nervous, and we're not even on the plane yet. I should give her more time to think this through, but I don't want to.

I want her. Married to me.

The prenup was a fight. Not with her, but with my lawyer. I nearly fired him over the terms I laid out. Terms he found aggressively in Perrie's favour. I disagreed. The numbers were embarrassingly low, all things considered. But I want her to feel like she can stay or go, and not have money factor into it. Especially when money does factor in, in ways she doesn't know about yet.

"The lounge is nice," she offers, glancing around us at a nice enough executive club lounge. "The trail mix is good." She jostles the bowl in her lap of complimentary snack mix. She selects an almond from the bowl and pops it in her mouth. Chews. Sighs. Bounces her knee and glances around the lounge some more. Then she looks up, panicked. "Will Mrs. Lascola take care of Tubbs this weekend?"

"We're only going to be gone two nights. He'd be fine on his own with enough food, but yes, Mrs. Lascola will stop in and feed him daily." Because the cat is spoiled. Also, he can't really be trusted with two days' worth of food at one time. I'd get him an automated feeder, but I prefer to have him checked on when I'm not home.

"Oh, that's good." She sighs. "I've never had a cat before."

I hum in acknowledgement.

"Or a baby," she adds. "I didn't do a ton of babysitting, it was more Peyton's thing."

"What did you do? When Peyton was doing her thing?"

"Extracurricular activities."

I raise an eyebrow. I bet. I don't really want to hear about them either.

She rolls her eyes at me and laughs. "Not like that. Cheerleading, student newspaper, student council."

"Tell me more about the cheerleading."

"Pervert."

"Please tell me there's a video of you and your pompoms somewhere on the internet."

"Well," she smiles, and her bouncing knee has steadied. "We did place third at nationals my senior year. It was a really big deal."

"I'm impressed. Did they let you keep the outfit?"

"You're such a nerd. No. Our uniforms belong to the school. You've got to turn it in, or they don't let you graduate."

"What a shame. Do you think they'd release it again for a large donation? New uniforms for everyone. The entire school. Cheerleaders, track, lacrosse, football, volleyball, swim team. Whatever they need."

She claps a hand over her eyes, but she's laughing as she shakes her head no. We board our flight a few minutes later, Perrie falling asleep on my shoulder shortly after takeoff.