Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 195

Chapter 195

I’d just started to relax again, lulled by Nathaniel’s calm voice and the easy rhythm of our conversation, when the plane suddenly jolted harder than before. My stomach dropped as if we’d fallen several hundred meters in an instant. Whatever false sense of security I’d built evaporated immediately.

“I don’t want to die!” I blurted, clutching Nathaniel’s arm for dear life. And okay, I couldn’t help noticing that I’d been right about the muscles.

“You’re not going to die,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

“How can you possibly know that?” I whimpered.

“I have an extremely important business meeting next week,” he said, completely serious. “So I’m not planning to die on this plane. Which means, by extension, you can’t die either. See that woman over there?” He nodded toward a couple sitting diagonally from us. “She told her husband when we boarded that she’s pregnant with twins. They’re not allowed to die either.”

“Oh, great,” I said, breathing hard but managing a shaky laugh. “Good to know you’ve got direct influence over who lives and dies around here.” I took another slow breath-inhale, exhale. No panic. I let go of his arm and tried to settle back into my seat. Maybe he was right; talking was a distraction. “So, what do you do? Besides acting as God’s assistant?”

He laughed, studying me for a moment before answering. “Nothing you’d find interesting.’

Which could only mean one thing: boring. Probably some stiff, overly polished job. Only someone with a painfully dull profession would spend eleven hours in a suit on a long-haul flight. At least he’d die looking good. I’d die in fluffy slippers with airplane hair.

“Do you have kids?” I asked suddenly.

“What?” He looked genuinely caught off guard. “No, no kids.”

“I want kids,” I said, surprising myself. “I never really thought about it until my sister had my nephew, Matt. He’s … perfect. And now I’m going to die without ever hearing a baby call me Mom.”

“How many?”

“What?”

“Kids. How many do you want?”

“I don’t know, maybe two? Three?” I shrugged. “I’ve never really planned it. I always figured it would just… happen naturally.”

“You’re still going to have your kids,” he said softly,

“No, I won’t. I’ll never get to have the career I want either. You know I’ve spent my entire life working jobs I hated? Sales clerk, call center, even waitress at some fancy restaurant. Always waiting for the right opportunity. And when I finally got this chance to move to London, to work for a real company, to prove myself—”

“I don’t-”

“I know I can be good at it!” I cut him off, my voice rising as adrenaline and fear twisted together. “I understand business. I understand people. And I definitely understand wine. My sister and I used to sneak bottles from my dad’s cellar when we were fifteen! So honestly, it makes perfect sense she married Christian… and when they finally decide to send me here, to train for real… I’m going to die!”

“You’re-uh-it’s a little hard to keep up,” he said, clearly trying not to laugh.

“How?” I blinked, caught completely off guard.

the airplane bathroom isn’t exactly a London hotel suite,” he said, his voice smooth and mischievous, mean, but at least we’re in business class.”

And then he actually stood up. Unbuckled, straightened his tie, and started walking toward the lavatory like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Was this man serious? Was he testing me?

My gaze drifted to the couple I’d noticed earlier the pregnant woman and her husband. They were sitting quietly, his arm wrapped protectively around her, his lips brushing against her temple as he whispered something soft, something comforting. They looked… peaceful. Real. The kind of love that didn’t need drama or turbulence to make it exciting.

Maybe that’s what I wanted too. Not a wild, impulsive fling in an airplane bathroom. Just someone who’d hold my hand when the world felt like it was falling apart.

She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d hook up in a plane bathroom.

But then again… I wasn’t her.

Before I could overthink it, I unbuckled my belt and stood up, wobbling slightly as the plane shifted again. Screw- it. If I was going to die, I might as well go out doing something unforgettable-with a dangerously handsome man in a flying tin can.

At least it would make one hell of a story to tell in the afterlife.