Chapter 42 | Mr Cadwallader Vs The Balloons

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How's the new cover?

[Ambrosia Bellemore]

The flight back to Venice wasn't like the other times Calum Achorn and I had flown together. Calum was a puddle of water now, not even an ounce of ice remained in him. He smiled and he laughed and he cracked lame jokes, not that I minded, but my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

And the kissing.

Of course, when I'd imagined myself with Calum Achorn, I'd imagined us to fit perfectly together. But we don't, I mean who am I kidding? I was plump and fat, and he was chiselled and tall. But he had his imperfections, so that worked out pretty well.

But the good times couldn't keep the insecurities creeping in out for long. Maybe he felt them too, because after hours of bickering and laughing together, we fell silent.

After a minute, I sigh.

"Mr Achorn," I begin to say, but he interrupts me.

"Call me Calum, Ambrosia. Please."

I almost laugh at how different it is from our first flight. Calum Achorn smiles a little at the memory too.

"Calum. What now?" I ask.

"We'll be back in New York, where I'm your boss," He says, glancing at me and then looking away.

"And a stone cold bastard," I say, trying to lighten up the mood a little.

"That too," A small smile plays on his lips. I marvel at how handsome he is, but snap out of it before he notices me drooling.

"So, this ends?" I say slowly, looking down at my lap.

"Of course not!" He snaps and I look up at him, surprised. He looks almost angry, not that I'm afraid, but I'm surprised he's affected by it so much.

"Hey, it's fine." I try to assure him, giving his shoulder a friendly pat. He
leans back into his seat but takes my hand in his. The action turns my insides into molten chocolate.

"This is a first for me," he says, gesturing at our intertwined hands.

"Of course it's not!" I protest. "Your love stories have been in the tabloids numerous times, Calum!"

He gives me a look of amusement. "I didn't hold hands with them, Ambrosia."

"Like ever?" I ask. He nods.

"Why? Do you hate clammy hands or something?" I ask, biting my lip. My hands were always clammy.

He chuckles a that. "No, silly girl. I just didn't want to."

"Oh. Good." I mutter, and everything is quiet.

After a minute, curiosity over rules.

"Then why did you date all those women?"

Calum Achorn looks over at me calmly, probably wondering if he should tell me. Then he shrugs.

"I was angry at my father."

"What for?" I ask, now leaning into him entirely.

"I don't know really. I find it hard taking orders. I never wanted everything to be handed to me in a silver platter. So I let it all go and worked for myself. I did the opposite of what he told me. Which included dating women he didn't approve of." He says, looking almost sheepish.

If it were anyone but me, they would jave laughed at Calum Achorn's stupidity. But I knew what he was talking about, and I knew that he wasn't stupid.

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