Stranded in Love

Chapter Twenty

-Ella's POV-

"I'm not flying." I declared, crossing my arms over my chest.

"It's the quickest way from Nassau back to New York. We would have the private jet to take us there, and we could be home in-"

"Derick, I will never go on another plane again. I would rather swim than fly."

Derick huffed out a breath as we stood outside the bank under the shade of the trees around. He stared down at me with those convincing eyes, but I wouldn't break. I'd be damned if I ever stepped foot on a plane again, let alone for that flight to be taking me home. The last thing I'd need was for another plane to go down.

We continued this stare off as the breeze whipped around us. I stood my ground against his intimidating glare. Eventually, he sighed, rubbing his facial hair. I smiled knowing he had given in to my declaration.

"Okay, then I'll call in for a private yacht." He stated, imitating me with crossed arms.

"No, that's not necessary. We can just take a-" I started to say, but he cut me off.

"It's either a private yacht or private jet Ella. Make your decision or I will for you."

My mouth gaped like a fish. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"No! Neither. You don't need to do either of those. Once we take the ferry to Nassau, we're completely fine with getting stateside however we see fit." I argued. There was no exact reason we needed to travel together all the way back to New York.

"That's not going to sit well with me. So no, I'm not leaving you on these islands by yourself. You have the two options I gave you and that's final. Now let me go and take care of the finances."

With that, Derick walked up the steps to the bank, and pulled me along with him, catching me off guard, I stumbled up the stairs after him. He released me once we made it through the door. The small bank had oscillating fans above with vaulted ceilings. Double tiered windows let in the natural light, and soft island music played in the background.

Derick approached the teller, and I followed shortly behind. I chuckled to myself at Derick's outfit. Every moment outside of the crazy situation we had found ourselves in, Derick was this perfect business model. His hair styled, clean shaven, and perfect suit combinations. However, in this moment, Derick looked like a Californian bum in the best possible way. He wore a simple dark grey shirt with a 'Bahamas' logo on the front. He had tan shorts, and flip flops. His black wavy hair was free flowing, and wild. His facial hair had grown in, and everything about him screamed normal, but I knew he wasn't. It was like seeing a whole new person.

We approached the teller, and she had a smile on her face.

"Hello, how can I help you's today?" Maricela asked, gathering her name from her name tag.

"I need to withdraw cash." Derick said, placing his hands on the counter.

"Okay, do you have an account with us Mr...?"

"Derick Pierce, and it should have been handled already through your boss."

Maricela gave a small look of confusion before the invisible light bulb seemed to go off in her head. I, on the other hand, was confused. Handled what?

"Oh my goodness Mr. Pierce, I am so sorry for the hassle this has caused, allow me to please get my boss." Maricela quickly walked back into another office.

I looked at Derick. "What did you do?" He gave me an all-knowing sly smirk.

"I always have my connections Ella. I can have millions in moments should I need them."