Chapter 5 The Flight To LA

The panel beeps and turns green. Thank God. I step inside my condo. The spectacular early summer view of the city greets me.

My white Steinway baby grand in the sunken living room floor gleams under the sun. I sit down and play a few scales. It always helps anchor my thoughts.

Charles wants to win. So he's going to do everything in his power to ensure I can't get a job. In fact, he's probably already done it. By now, I'll be lucky to find employment scrubbing public toilets for the city.

But I'm not going to give in and marry someone he picks from the dossiers. Nor am I going to pick one out myself so he can feel good about giving me a "choice."

Basically, I need to go to someplace beyond his reach and influence. That means out of the country. And I'd better do it before he can stop me.

All he has to do is make a call to somebody in the Ministry of Justice and have my passport flagged for a travel ban.

Too many politicians owe him favors, and I won't even be able to sue because they'll all laugh like we're buddies and say, "No hard feelings, just a misunderstanding."

I stop mid-scale and pull out my phone. Fortunately, the service is on a separate contract under my name.

I text Ivy and Tony, hoping one of them is awake, since it's almost eleven p.m. in Los Angeles.

They might not be. Ivy's hugely pregnant and often exhausted. And Tony likes to go to bed with her and rub her back and feet.

Me: Hey. Can you get me a ticket to L.A.? I tap my fingers on the Steinway, waiting. Then stand up abruptly because I shouldn't be wasting time like this. I need to start packing.

My phone rings. It's Ivy. I answer instantly, putting her on the speaker so I can pack and talk at the same time. "Hey, girl." "What's going on?" she asks.

"Are you okay?" "I'm fine." I pull out a huge suitcase and start throwing in my dresses and purses.

"I just need to get out of here. Don't need a round-trip ticket," I add, since most ticketing agents will want to have a return date. "Oh no..." Ivy sighs. "This doesn't sound good."

"It isn't the best situation." The understatement of the month. But I don't want to go into detail. It's too much for an international phone call, plus it's late in L.A.

"When are you coming?"

"As soon as possible." Before it occurs to Charles to make that phone call to the Ministry of Justice. "Like, now. Immediately." The suitcase is full.

I pull out another and start stuffing it with shoes and accessories. Must have shoes and accessories to go with the clothes and purses I already packed.

"Are you in trouble?" "No, nothing like that," I say, not wanting her to worry. Stress is bad for pregnant women.

My honorary nephew and niece deserve only the best. "It's just my brother being a jerk. A long story. I'll tell you everything when I get there."

"Okay. What do I need to get you a ticket? I have your name, but don't I need your passport number and stuff, too?"

"Probably. Let me text you a picture of my passport. Give me a sec." I rummage through dresser drawers until I find my passport. I take a photo of the page with all my details.

"Sending it now." There's a pause.

"Okay, got it. I'll send you the ticket info soon. How about something that leaves in the next three hours? I see one here."

I think for a second. It shouldn't take that long to pack, and it's about fifty minutes to the airport. Since I have no clue how to catch an airport bus, I'll just have a taxi come pick me up.

"That's fine. Thanks, Ivy!" "My pleasure. Can't wait to see you," she says, still sounding a little worried.

This is all Charles's fault. I finish shoving everything I need into two suitcases, but I still want the rest of my stuff.

I stop to think for a moment. Who is someone Charles can't screw with? I call Mr. Patrick, my dad's chief executive assistant.

"Ms. Ben," he answers immediately, his tone professional. "The chairman's in a meeting."

"Hello, Mr. Patrick. I'm not calling to talk to my dad. I need to ask you for a small favor."

"Anything." "I'm going to Los Angeles and can only take two suitcases. Can you pack up the rest of my things and overnight them to Ivy Blackwood's home address? It should be on file."

My family maintains the addresses of everyone we associate with. "Certainly. Anything else?"

"No, that's it. Thank you. You're a gem." I smile although he can't see it. I don't ask him to keep it from Dad because it wouldn't be right to test his loyalty that way. But he isn't the type to gossip, and he won't tell Dad what I wanted unless asked.

"My pleasure. Have a lovely trip." "Oh, I will." I hang up, feeling smugly triumphant. So Charles hasn't been able to turn absolutely everybody against me.

But then, he knows better than anyone how much Dad indulges me. We grew up together, after all. I make a mental note to ask Dad to give Mr. Patrick a fat bonus.

Or the fully comped use of one of our resorts. That should make him and his wife happy. My phone pings.

Ivy: Got the ticket. Emailed it to you just now. You need to leave soon to catch the flight, though. I check my email to make sure. First class to LAX. I smile.

Me: You're the best! I call the concierge in the lobby and ask them to arrange for a taxi pickup for the airport, then roll my suitcases out into the living room. I stop and put a hand over my fluttering belly. I've never done anything like this before.

It feels like cutting ties, making my desires known, insisting on them, in fact...and hoping for the best.

I've never not had the support of my family, and now here I am, not even telling them I'm leaving. But I know that if I do, they'll try to stop me. My parents love me to pieces.

Unfortunately, that means they can be a bit overprotective at times. But I can't let them run my life.

They don't have to sleep with my future husband and have his babies. I'm not having sex with a guy I feel nothing for. I blow a kiss at the baby grand.

"I'm going to miss you, sweetheart." Nothing calms my anxiety like playing the piano. If I could, I'd take it with me. But I can wait until I get to Ivy's place.

She has a Bösendorfer concert grand I can use. Inhaling deeply, I grab my bags and head downstairs to go to the airport.