Mia
A private jet? What were we doing here at a private airport, heading toward a private jet? I couldn’t help myself as I stared at James, my eyes large in confusion.
“James?” I asked, clutching my backpack in front of me tightly. “What are we doing here?” I flicked my eyes back to the sleek plane before us, all set to take in passengers. I noted a steward in his mid-forties, dressed immaculately in a gray uniform, walking briskly toward us.
“To see your brother,” James replied, turning off the car engine.
“Huh?” I couldn’t help myself. I was more than a little lost and confused. “Hold up. Why are we in an airport to see my brother?” I knew I sounded stupid.
He chuckled. “Or don’t you want to see your brother at all?”
I scowled. “Of course I do,” I snapped. “But it would help if you
