Second Impressions Book 3: Second Chances

“Did you work on your speech?” Thomas raised his eyebrows.

I ignored him, just as I had been ignoring my bridesmaid duties, while lifting the window shade and looking through the porthole: sea and more sea.

“Two more hours,” I said, glancing at my watch. The destination wedding sounded more like destination hell to me. “Two more hours and we land in Hawaii.”

My heartbeat increased just thinking of those silver eyes.

Because I was afraid, and not of flying.

I was afraid of being in close proximity to Darius Rothschild.

A whole week around him after everything that happened between us, and now I was with Archer.

Yes, I was now with Archibald Price.

“Say that to my flat ass. I am not made to fly in economy,” Thomas growled.

“You know, for someone so spiritual, you are quite a diva. Not so long ago, you enjoyed eating pop-tarts on the old carpet of my previous crappy apartment.”

“Your new apartment is still crappy.”

“I will send Sarah the memo.” I crossed my arms, giving him the side eye.

“Nine hours trapped in a tuna can changes a person,” he explained, unable to rearrange his legs without waking up the granny he had to his right.

For a moment, I felt sorry. He was too tall to fit like a normal person would.

“Remind me again why you refused Sarah’s jet. You played me.”

I would rather be dead than take the chance of flying with Anna or any of the Rothschilds on our way to Alexander and Sarah’s wedding.

“And besides, now that I make money, I get to invite you.” I tapped my friend’s hand lightly and smiled at him, knowing he was my prisoner.

Who would swap a private jet flight for an economy flight? Well, no one.

I was selfish and needed his support to avoid a breakdown, even if he was unaware of that.

“Well, thank you for the cheap airplane ticket, honey.”

“I have tried,” Thomas said slowly, his voice full of irritation. “But you continue making that weird noise with your throat.”

I touched my neck, feeling my throat—drier by the second.

“Two more hours and we will be there.” The baby crying and the teenager that kept kicking the back of our seats were not helping the situation at all.

“Hell, this airline is hell!” Thomas raised his hand and pressed a button, calling the flight attendant, and soon spoke to her.

“When will food be served?” he asked.

“Depends on the package you purchased. Our airline doesn’t provide any complimentary meals, snacks, or drinks,” she replied.

“Charming,” Thomas exclaimed. His miserable expression made me feel guilty again. “What package did you buy, honey? Let me guess. Is it the cheapest one?”

“Oh, stop it. It is called smart saving,” I replied, giving the flight attendant our order and my new company card.

“Besides, I am paying my debts.”

“Only because I feel proud you paid for my ticket, and even though I am in physical pain…I will let it slide,” he said. He then read my eyes.

“I will return with Sarah, though. Did you book a cheap hotel too? I know about the villa. Olivia Summer, we are staying in the villa with your sister and the whole family for her wedding, right?”

“Yes, yes, we will stay in the beach villa with Sarah and all the Rothschilds.” I exhaled loudly.

“Thank God,” Thomas exclaimed. “Did you fix things with her?”

Silence. I scratched my neck.

Sarah and I hadn’t exchanged a single word on how we left things. I knew we were off.

I was walking on eggshells with her now.

I interrupted him before he could lecture me. “She has been busy getting all the wedding stuff.”

And she had no time to deal with her cray-cray sister, alias me.

“Yeah, but you said the same with baby Sophie.”

Oh, just thinking about baby Sophie brought a smile to my face. The last time I saw the Rothschilds was when I visited the hospital for her birth.

“She is fine, believe me.”

“You mean she is fine with the baby arriving early and pushing all her wedding preparations to the fire?”

“I assure you, Alexander has ensured she has nothing to worry about. She is basically a real-life princess.”

“Right,” Thomas added.

“Right.” I huffed, grabbing the edge of my seat. Oh, we were beginning to descend, and my time was running out.

“I still think his intention of marrying her before the baby popped was beautiful.”

“Yes, how traditional.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing he had a point there. We were suffering because of my hurt ego.

“What is really bothering you?” He frowned.

“Alexander doesn’t like me, okay?” There, I said it out loud.

Could you blame him? Fucking his brother while he was looking to propose to the love of his life.

I tried to bring my head to my hands, but I immediately bumped my head against the seat in front of me. Fucking cheap economy seats.

“That, just there, it’s called instant karma.”

I just made a face at him and rubbed my forehead.

Delayed karma was coming for me after that day on the boat where I was more than eager to play the role of Darius’s slut.

I wanted to think that he fucked me, but we fucked each other.

No more role-play. I needed to stay away from him. Yes. Away.

Darius Rothschild wanted me to hate him, and he succeeded. I huffed.

Yes, I did hate him. I hated Darius Rothschild so, so badly. I hated him for hurting me and for publishing my mistakes.

Argh! Most of all, I hated finding out he cared.

Why did he offer to protect me and Sarah from his father? Why did he have to return my mother’s bracelet?

Why did he take care of my medical bills? Why did I have to find out he got me out of debt?

Darius Rothschild had gotten so deep under my skin in ways I couldn’t comprehend, and now was not the time to let that man creep into my life again.

“That was six months ago, and I’ve kept my distance from every Rothschild ever since,” I said calmly.

Exactly. I had moved on. I was in balance now. I was dating Archibald Price.

My life was smooth sailing now.

“Well, congratulations on not adding a new one to the bunch in that timeframe. Hooray!”

I sighed and hit Thomas with my elbow. “I still have one Rothschild who doesn’t hate me.”

Vivian Rothschild genuinely liked me.

“He is a Price,” I said. “And he is not my boyfriend yet. We are… I think we are dating.”

“Dating?” Thomas clapped in excitement. “Olivia Summer. Please don’t fuck this up by fucking Darius Rothschild again. You already fucked him at your sister’s surprise proposal. If you… Damn it, Ollie, if you fuck this guy at her wedding, you will not only screw this up with Archibald but your relationship with Sarah too, and for good.”

My heart raced again, and my shallow breathing appeared. Thomas slapped me lightly on the face. “Chill the fuck up.”