They both looked out the hotel window to see the fireworks signifying the start of a new year.

Rachel couldn’t help it; she started to laugh. “Two more minutes and our timing would have been perfect.”

Jason reached up, caressed the side of her face with the palm of his hand. “We’ll have it down by next year.”

Was it possible they could last that long?

She hoped so.

“Happy new year, Jason.”

“Happy new year, love.”

He kissed her again, then slipped away from her and tucked her into his side.

Together they watched the show out the window after taking in all the fireworks inside.

They made love again, ate the fruit in bed, and sipped from the bottle of champagne.

And Jason knew he was gone. Throw away the phone numbers that came before her. Rachel was the real deal.

They laughed at the fireworks and shared sexual fantasies until she fell asleep.

How was it possible he’d fallen so completely in such a short time? He didn’t know, didn’t really want to question it. Jason also cautioned himself against revealing everything in his head. She’d tossed aside her concerns about him to get to this point. Now he needed to prove himself outside of the bedroom.

As he fell asleep holding her, he let his mind wander to all the things they could share.

The phone in the room shook him awake long before dawn.

Rachel bolted from the bed. “Owen?”

Jason fiddled with the phone and turned on the light. “Hello?”

“Jason, lad.”

“Is Owen okay?” Rachel was practically in his lap, asking the question.

Nathan must have heard her question. “Tell the lass Owen is perfectly fine. Sleeping.”

Jason placed a hand on her shoulder. “He’s fine.”

Some relief washed over her.

“What’s going on?” Because no one woke you up at five in the morning for a good reason.

“A plane went down.”

Jason was wide awake now.

“Where?”

“Costa Rica.”

“Who was on it?”

Nathan hesitated.

“The Lamberts.”

Jason waited for the other shoe to drop as he pictured the couple the last time he saw them.

“Wendy didn’t make it. Ron is in critical but stable condition.”

Jason squeezed his eyes shut. “The kids?”

“They weren’t on the plane.”

Jason’s head fell forward. “Thank God.”

Rachel placed a hand on his forearm, looked at him with concern.

“What about my crew?”

“The copilot isn’t looking too good.”

“And the others?”

“The pilot was in surgery when they called, the flight attendant walked away, but there is a problem.”

More than losing a client on one of his flights? “Tell me.”

“There is already talk of substance abuse with the pilot.”

“That’s hardly unexpected.” Every initial report wanted to blame the pilot, and drugs weren’t ruled out for hours.

“I don’t know, Jason. There is a lot of talk already on this one.”

“When did the plane go down?”

Rachel’s eyes opened wide.

“Hours ago. Glen has been trying to call, he finally obtained Rachel’s number from Gerald and called her house to find me.”

Jason needed to get ahold of his brother. “Wake Owen, take him to the house. We’re on our way.”

“How bad is it?” Rachel asked the second he hung up the phone.

“It’s not good. We need to get dressed.”

Wearing rumpled formal attire at five in the morning took the walk of shame to a new level, although Rachel was fairly certain Jason couldn’t care less.

A Morrison Hotel car was at the curb when they walked outside.

They pulled up to the Fairchild building to find a few men with cameras waiting for them.

“Mr. Fairchild, do you have anything to say about the fatal crash?”

He walked past them as if he didn’t see them.

“Mr. Fairchild?”

Panic rose inside her. This was a PR nightmare in the making. Without thinking twice, Rachel paused, making Jason slow down. She turned to the media and smiled. “Mr. Fairchild has no comment at the moment. He needs to assess the situation and comfort the family before a formal statement can be made.”

“Is it true the pilot was under the influence of cocaine?”

“Again, a formal statement will come soon. Thank you.” Rachel turned and let Jason lead her into the building.

Inside, a security guard opened the door and locked it behind them.

“Thank you, Gunther.”

“Mr. Fairchild. The helicopter is fueled and ready.”

Rachel smiled at the man she’d never given a name to and rode the elevator beside Jason.

He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.”

He squeezed her hand. “You’re not my public relations manager.”

“No, she’s in London for the next week, or until you can locate her and drag her back.” All information she’d heard over the water cooler and kept tucked inside her head.

The elevator stopped at the top of the building, they stepped out, and Jason addressed a man who stood just inside the door leading to the roof. “She ready?”

“Checked her myself.”

Jason shook the man’s hand. “No flights in or out until I return.”

“Of course, Mr. Fairchild.”

Rachel ran to keep up, not easy in four-inch heels that were meant for a cocktail party and not running across a rooftop.

She jumped into the passenger seat and reached for her seat belt.

Jason looked over the aircraft, only faster than he had the first time they got in one together. Inside, he put his headset on and immediately started the propeller spinning.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He looked over, grasped her hand. “You’re here, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m fine.”

She wasn’t completely sure what to make of that. In the car over, he’d told her about the crash, about the couple inside the plane. He’d known the Lamberts since before his parents died. Big clients of Fairchild Charters, the couple and the Lambert company used their jets nearly every month.

Jason lifted the helicopter into the air, speaking into the mic. “You worked in public relations before you went into marketing, right?”

“My last job, they were one and the same.”

He pointed the chopper in the direction of home. “I need you to come with me and handle the media until I can get Phyllis on board.”

She hesitated. “What about Owen? I can’t leave him—”

“We bring him with us. He’s out of school until the second week in January, right?”

Could she do that? “He is.”

“Does he have a passport?”

“Yeah. Emily thought she might find new treatments for her cancer overseas and made us all get one.” Unfortunately there wasn’t anything that they could have flown toward to save her.

“Then it’s settled, he stays at the hotel while we deal with this issue. It will be a vacation for him and work for us.”

“Alone in a hotel in Costa Rica?”

“Nathan can come along. I’ll need him to go over the FAA reports as they come in, anyway.”

Costa Rica.