“I’m so excited,” she says from beside me. “Do you know where we are staying?”
“Yeah, I have the name in my bag.” I try to hold off as much as I can, and when I make my way over to the private airstrip, she looks around in confusion. When we pull up, and I park the truck, I look over at her. “I’ll get the bags.” I get out of the truck, and she meets me in the back. I walk past the gate and head over to the private plane that is waiting. A little red carpet at the end of the stairs.
“Um, Casey,” she says quietly from beside me. When I get to the plane, the flight attendant comes down the stairs as I start to walk up the stairs.
“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” the flight attendant says to me, smiling. “Welcome aboard. You can put your luggage right over there.” She points at the side of the plane. “We’ll have it loaded up right away.”
“Thank you,” I say and put down the bags. “Darlin’,” I say to Olivia, who now just glares at me. I wait for her to walk up the steps. She puts her bag on the table in front of her and then sits down, not saying a word to me. “What has got you all in a pickle?”
“Don’t you pickle me, Casey,” she hisses. “We are in a private plane.”
“I know,” I say, shrugging off my jacket and handing it to the flight attendant who is there waiting for it.
“Would you like anything to drink before takeoff, Mr. Barnes?” She smiles at me, and I look at Olivia.
“Darlin’?” I call her, and she turns on her charm and fake smile as she looks over at the flight attendant.
“I’ll have a water with lemon, please.” She nods her head and walks away.
“See,” I say, sitting down and pointing at her. “That smile right there. Fake.”
“See that,” she says, pointing at me. “Fake as fuck!” I try not to laugh, but I can’t help it and put my head back.
“What difference does it make that I can fly in a private jet?” I ask, leaning back, and she glares now even more than she did before.
“You think I give a shit that you can get a private jet to fly you all over the place?” She leans in now. “I’ve flown on private jets.” She comes in closer, and her eyes go from a light to a dark, and it’s when she is getting all up in a fit that I kind of love her the most. It’s the time when I want to kiss her until the light comes back into her eyes. “I’ve eaten caviar on private yachts in the middle of the Mediterranean,” she hisses. “So I couldn't care less about this. I care more that you didn’t tell me. You told me when we were by the creek that you wouldn’t lie to me.”
I’m about to say something when the flight attendant comes over with her water and then looks at me. “We are ready to take off, Mr. Barnes.”
“Thank you,” I say, and then I watch Olivia as she looks out the window.
“It’s not that I didn’t tell you,” I start to say, and Olivia looks at me. “It’s just not part of who I am.”
“How can you say that?” she asks. “Are you or are you not sitting on a private jet right now?” Before I have the chance to answer, she continues, “Did you or did you not drive us here in a brand new car?”
“It’s not brand new,” I say as the wheels lift off the ground.
She shakes her head now. “You just don’t get it.” She looks out of the window, and I see her blink away tears.
I get up and sit in the chair next to her. “Darlin’,” I say her name quietly.
“It’s fine.” She tries to do the fake smile.
“It’s not fine,” I say. She looks at me, and for the first time, she admits that it hurts her.
“You’re right. It’s not fine,” she says, and I want to smile taking her in my arms for admitting that she isn’t always okay all the time. “I don’t care what you drive or what you fly in. I don’t even care what kind of house you live in. I care that you weren’t honest with me.”
“I never lied to you,” I say. “Not once.”
“No, but you omitted it,” she says and wipes away a tear. “I’ve been omitted my whole life,” she says, and I want to take it back. I don’t want to be one of those people who promised to say things or omitted.
“Darlin’,” I say, and not touching her makes my hand itch. “I’ve never thought of it that way.” I reach out now and move the hair out of her face. “Have you ever heard of CBS Corporation?”
“Casey,” she says my name. “Everyone knows who CBS Corporation is. They are all over my computer when I log on as the anti-virus kicks on. At the bank when you put in your bank card and it spins on the screen.” She starts naming every single place she’s seen my name. “Unless you live under a rock, you have heard of CBS Corporation.”
I take a deep breath and then come out with the news. “I’m CBS Corporation.” I watch her eyes as she takes in what I said.
“What do you mean?” she asks, not sure of what I said.
“I’m Casey Barnes Security. CBS,” I say again, and she looks at me.
“But …” she says, her mouth opening and closing. “How?”
“Well, when I was eighteen, I started playing around with the computer, and it turns out, I was really good at coding.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” she says, and I just laugh.
“Not many do,” I say and now take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips. “When I left the rodeo, I was lost,” I say. “All I heard in my head were the words ‘he’s just a hick.’”
“Casey,” she says my name in a whisper, and I just shake my head.
“I know it’s stupid, and I know that you know the whole sticks and stones shit. I get it, but it’s just, those words they cut me. ‘Just a hick.’” I say what I’ve never told anyone before. “I took a step back, and I wanted to be more than that. I wanted to be more than what people thought I would be.”
“You are more than that,” she says. I don’t hear any sympathy in her voice. It’s soft, and it’s genuine, and it’s everything.
“It was a stereotype. I was a cowboy, so I couldn’t be anything else,” I say. “Then one day, I’m playing around with the computer, and I’m creating this whole thing. I was a natural with it, and I couldn’t explain it.” I shake my head. “I broke into the government website in three hours.” I laugh now when she gasps out. “I mean, I didn’t take anything, but I just did it because I could.”
“Oh my God,” she says, and she puts her hand to her mouth.
“Yeah, imagine what my mom felt like when they arrived on my doorstep and asked to see me.” She opens her eyes. “Yeah, well, needless to say, it’s when they brought me in, and I showed them, and then I told them how to stop it. Which made me finally someone who wasn’t just a cowboy.”
“You, Casey Barnes,” she says, shaking her head. “Even if you were a cowboy, that doesn’t mean you are less of a man.”
“I know that,” I say, and she raises her eyebrows at me. “I mean, I know that now.”