It Matters To Me (The Wandering Hearts Book 2) (14 page)

W
HEN
I
AGREED TO FLY
to Africa for this job I never thought to Google how long the flight would take. Had I actually investigated this matter, I’m not sure I would have eagerly agreed to the twenty hours of travel. However, the flight gave me ample time to pore over the project binder from Aiden and jot down the million questions I would need to research on my laptop once we arrived.

Anna’s the one who obsesses over things, insisting on perfection. I’m the fun loving, fly by the seat of your pants friend. But this … this is different. This job feels like it’s a chance at something—a new beginning that’s all mine and I don’t want to mess it up.

We arrived at our hotel in Gaborone City, in Botswana, just after dawn. For some reason, I imagined shanties or straw huts along dirt roads. Instead, my ignorance was revealed when we were greeted by strip malls along the well-lit paved highways that were littered with billboards advertising drive-thru restaurants, social events, and the latest tech gadgets.

Aiden suggested I rest up. I agreed, but there was no possible way I could sleep. Despite my exhaustion, I’d spent the last four hours skimming an e-copy of the very helpful “Photography For Dummies” that I’d purchased.

Our assignment is simple and straightforward. A nature magazine has an article releasing next month about the black rhino. Our job is to capture images of the endangered species in its natural habitat—images that will inspire readers to donate to the rescue fund.

After a quick two-hour sleep break and change of clothes, I make my way down to the restaurant in the lobby. My stomach is churning angrily from the lack of food it’s received in the last day. The texts I got from Ben just before we left on our flight still nag at me, but I refuse to allow them to consume my thoughts.

The first one angry and short.
Have a nice life.

The second one is the one I can’t seem to shake.
I can’t just stop loving you. Please just be safe, wherever you’re going.

Angry Ben I can handle just fine. I’m a pro at that. It’s when he goes and says something like the second text that haunts me; that makes leaving him so difficult. It’s that Ben who makes me wonder if I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.

“Morning,” I hear Aiden’s familiar voice behind me. He looks well rested though it’s not surprising since he slept nearly the entire flight over here. “Have you eaten yet?”

I shake my head. “Just heading to get something, actually.”

“Great, I’ll join you,” he says with a smile. I want him to quiz me about aperture, ISO, and shutter speed—any question that would allow me to flex my photography knowledge in his face. “Sleep well?”

I lift my fingers to the puffy darkened circles under my eyes and then quickly back down to my side as I follow him into the restaurant. “Great,” I lie.

“I know the jet lag can be killer,” he adds as he slides into an empty booth.

I turn my attention to the menu, which is littered with large bright pictures of the food items available. I’m thankful I don’t have to think much about the food options and order a breakfast sandwich of some sort and coffee. Aiden orders his food, and we sit in silence for a moment. I can feel him watching me.

I look up to see a comforting smile staring back at me, and suddenly before I can stop myself, my tired brain allows my mouth to erupt into total conversational diarrhea. “So I was reading up about the Black Rhinos. Did you realize that a mother is often pregnant with them for fifteen to sixteen months?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t offer a verbal response. This is probably where a rational person would quit talking, but I’m sleep deprived, and therefore not very rational at the moment.

“I mean can you imagine? My best friend Anna just had a baby and she pretty much bitched about being pregnant every time we spoke. Of course, she was one of those people who got lucky enough to have morning sickness last the entire pregnancy. And then there was the fact that her morning sickness was more like all the damn time sickness.”
Shut up Kenzie! You have sleep brain going on.

“What did she have?” he asks, and I wonder if he’s simply pretending to be interested because I’m quite certain this isn’t a topic most men care to have discussions about.

“Oh, a girl,” I added, smiling. “I just got back from visiting them in England.”

“Really?” I’m still wondering if he’s pretending to be interested, but apparently I can’t seem to shut up no matter how hard I try. This has always been something I do when I get nervous. “So, your best friend lives in England?”

“Yeah, I mean, I guess. Sort of.”

“You guess she’s sort of your best friend, or she sort of lives in England?” he asks, his soft blue eyes focused on me.

I shake my head and huff. “The England part. It’s quite a long story. She was engaged, he was a total slime ball and cheated on her, so she decided to quit her job and fly halfway around the world to have an adventure.”

“And while she was there she decided to have a baby?” No, he’s not pretending. I can see that now. He’s confused.

“Well, no, she was pregnant when she left.” Why can’t I just shut up already?

“Wait,” he seems even more confused. “With her cheating fiancé’s baby?”

“Yes, but in her defense, she didn’t know she was pregnant when she caught him cheating and decided to leave town. It was right before the wedding, so when it happened, she went bananas.”

“I see.”

“Okay, I know it sounds bad, but she’s really amazing, and she didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

He leans in and whispers, “I never said it sounded bad.”

“No,” I start. “You didn’t. Anyway, she decided after she caught Jack with the neighbor across the hall—”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly!” I exclaim, surprised at how easy it is to talk to him. It’s almost like talking to Anna; of course, that could be the result of foggy brain. “So she worked as a book editor, and she decided to leave her job and fly to England where she was going to … I don’t know … something about walking in the steps of Jane Austen.”

“Got it, makes sense so far.”

“It does? Because it made absolutely no sense to me when she did it.”

“I get it. Sometimes the only way to recover from the toxic people in your life is to get as far away from them as possible.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I’m staring at him, realizing my mouth is hanging open, then I snap it shut. That’s exactly right. Ben is toxic for me right now. Africa is about as far away as I could get.

“And what, once she was there she just decided England was too beautiful to leave?”

“More like the inn keeper was too beautiful to leave,” I joke.

“Ahh, so she found love on the other side of the pond? And do you approve of the new Mr. Right?”

I think about his question, remembering the fear in Holden’s eyes when he thought there was a chance Anna wasn’t going to wake up. Then, when she did wake up, in that one look, I saw a deeper connection than I’d ever seen between her and Jack. “I do, actually. I miss her, don’t get me wrong, but I’m glad she’s happy.”

“Hmm…” He watches me for a moment, absentmindedly running his finger around the rim of the coffee mug the waiter just delivered to us. My mouth feels dry as I drink in his dimpled smile. I wait desperately for him to finish his thought when his phone begins to ring. I grin when I hear the tone is one of my favorite Incubus songs.

He glances at the face and gives a guttural groan of frustration when he sees the caller ID. “Will you excuse me?” he asks, standing and exiting the table.

He’s been gone for a while. I can see him across the restaurant in an abandoned corner by the wall of windows. His hand gestures are animated, and his shoulders are slumped. I try not to stare, but it’s nearly impossible.

The waiter drops off our food and looks curiously around when he sees the empty chair across from me. I catch the waiter as he spies Aiden across the room. The look of trepidation on the poor man’s face assures me I am not reading the conversation wrong. Whoever Aiden is talking to, he’s not happy about it. I can’t help wondering if it’s the famous Kitten. I smirk, thinking of a little harmless fur ball, batting around an oversized ball of yarn. Why would anyone allow themselves to be called Kitten?

I take a bite of my breakfast sandwich and though there are several things on it I have trouble identifying the flavor of, it currently is one of the most satisfying bites of food I have ever put in my mouth. My stomach erupts in a churning volcano of acids as the first bite slides down my throat. I nearly choke on the next bite when I see Aiden is heading back to the table.

He looks at my plate, and I suddenly realize how rude I am for starting without him.

“Sorry,” I say, small bits of bread spraying out of my mouth. “I was starving.”

He wrinkles his nose, shakes his head and takes a seat. “You’re fine, it’s not you.”

I finish chewing the bite in my mouth and swallow hard, taking a swig from my water glass next to the coffee. “Everything okay?” I finally manage.

He’s obviously distracted. I hold my breath, waiting for him to recount the repugnant conversation he has just been subjected to. Instead, he ignores me, motioning for the waiter and hands him a credit card. “I’ve got this. And can you wrap mine up to go, please?”

The waiter takes the card and smiles in acknowledgment before turning and scurrying off to do as he was told. Aiden’s annoyed glare keeps me silent. I take another bite, making sure I am chewing with my mouth shut, something I am not always known to do.

“The front desk has our equipment locked in one of their luggage rooms. Can you run through it and do a check on everything?” he asks impatiently, a clear shift in his demeanor.

“Check?” I ask, unsure exactly what he’s referring to.

He sighs in frustration and shakes his head, “just make sure the batteries are all charged and things are clean and look ready to go.”

“Oh!” I exclaim, realizing it’s something I can easily take care of on my own. “Of course.”

“I need to make arrangements for our transportation. Have everything ready to go by noon,” he says, standing as the waiter returns.

“So we’re not staying at the hotel?” I inquire.

“You can leave most of your stuff here, but bring enough with you for a few days,” he explains. The waiter hands him his receipt and the food he just packed up. Aiden delivers a half smile to the man then looks back at me and reiterates as a question, “noon?”

“I’ll be ready,” I assure him, fighting the urge to ask a million questions. Questions like,
Where are we going? Where will we sleep? Why will we be gone for three days? Are you sure you hired the right person? What was the deal with that phone call?

A second later he’s gone, and I’m devouring the rest of my breakfast.

A
S THE TIME CAME FOR
our escort to arrive, I was racked with feelings of anxiety as well as excitement. I had far too little sleep to deal with so much adrenaline, but I’d deal with it and try to keep my composure. Occasionally, the thought would settle over me that I was actually in a foreign country, getting ready to head out on an expedition, to find the endangered Black Rhinos to photograph.