“You have more than one bucket list? How interesting,” Melanie said.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. There’s the one my family supports and expects from the bachelor of the year, and then there’s one that cries out from within like a starving animal.”
“Very well said, Mr. Alexander.” Try as she might to dislike him, she had bonded with his predicament.
“Stephen…call me Stephen; Mr. Alexander is my father.”
Now, that sounded like Drew. Was everyone discontent with their station in life, always trying to climb the fence to the other side? It was as if a light turned on in her head. For the first time, she pictured the preoccupation the wealthy sector wasted on climbing to the top of the social ladder differently. The quest still sickened her, but she understood the trap and now saw the need for each individual to settle the issue in their heart.
“Okay, Stephen, it is. Tell me about your second bucket list.”
“No, you’ll just think I’m manipulating and coming on to you. My dreams are worth more than that.”
“I will try not to judge,” Melanie said.
“You can’t help yourself. I can hear the mocking lack of empathy for the miserable wealthy man ringing through every syllable you utter.”
“I’m sorry you see it that way. You think you have me all figured out, but you are mistaken,” Melanie said. “But I have no right to judge you, sir. I don’t even know you.”
“Except that I drink and talk too much.”
“Noted.”
“Am I forgiven?”
“Only if you share your bucket list with me – a completely, judge-free stranger,” Melanie said.
“Okay, you asked for it,” he said. “I want to affect the world for good: use my money to help others enjoy the basics in life and start-up endeavors that will bring economic and personal value to those in need – not just the rich and powerful.”
“That’s a grand vision, not a detailed bucket list.”
“Travel to third world countries, finance some industry so that people can live a productive life on their own soil.”
“Still pretty general. If you were set free from your prison tomorrow, what would be the first thing you’d do?”
“Hunt you down. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you toy with me in wordplay, the way you challenge me to be a better person. I adore the wild dark curls all clipped in a messy bun.” He took a breath. “You married?”
Melanie waved her left hand close to this face. “No husband.”
“Suppose I should have noticed that before playing my hand so openly.”
“Probably the effects of the booze still buzzing inside your head, Mr. Alexander.”
“I’ve lost brownie points with you again? And we seemed to be getting on better there for a minute.”
“That’s when you were the Stephen with noble ambitions, not Stephen, the womanizing drunk. Have you considered that you will require family money and position to achieve such honorable goals?”
“Good point.”
“I think I could like that person, Mr. Alexander.”
“Okay, I’m bringing him back. Sorry for the intrusion of my other-self. I am out to impress you.”
“You don’t need to impress me, a stranger you’ll probably never see again.”
“Now, don’t deal me a losing hand of cards – I like to win.”
“Win or lose, sir, we will part company within the hour, and you will need never expose the honorable Stephen to me again. In fact, I suggest you don’t. In a drunken condition, you do not appear comfortable in his virtuous shoes.”
“Ouch – that hurt.”
“You appear to bring out the worst in me. You are none of my business, and you can be anyone you want to be,” Melanie said, tiring of their banter.
The pilot’s voice sounded over the loudspeaker. They were about to land in Georgia.
When Stephen didn’t move, Melanie prompted him to action. “Better buckle up, Casanova.”
When the descent began, Stephen reached over, squeezed her left hand, and stroked her wedding ring finger.
Melanie recoiled.
His face lit up with a condescending smile. “I like you, Angela Decanis, and I would love to continue this conversation after we land.”
“I have a busy schedule. It’s best you move on to greener pastures.” Melanie pulled her hand free, turned, and planted her crimson face close to the window to watch the steady decline of the aircraft. She couldn’t wait to get off the plane and be rid of Mr. Contradiction beside her. His plight – if any of his ramblings were to be taken seriously – ran parallel to her wealth-verses-poverty dilemma. Today, she felt cheapened by her rebellion and it had taken a drunk to open her eyes. Money could help change the world. It didn’t have to own someone – she could own it.
Without a word, Melanie declined Mr. Alexander’s offer to help, and wrenched her carry-on down from the compartment overhead. She shook her head when he pleaded for her to reconsider his suggestion to get better acquainted. His insistence annoyed her, and in light of the past few days, her discomfort reached an all-time high when she felt his frisky gaze follow her off the plane, through the baggage department, and finally to the airport curb. Just when she thought she’d shaken him, he called out again, armed and ready with his final plea.
“Angela – please this can’t be goodbye forever. Meet me somewhere for a drink.”
“I think you can find more suitable drinking companions,” Melanie said.
“Sorry. Bad idea. How about supper? A late supper? You must be starved.”
She was, but she didn’t want him to know that. “I’m in a hurry, remember?”
“Too busy to eat?”
Melanie thought about her mission to solve the case. It was late and Trevor didn’t expect her until tomorrow. Food and a hotel room were first on her list, but did she want to
