“You do know normal people don’t land on rooftops for shopping trips, right?”
Mary had a point, but Dakota wasn’t complaining. Traffic into the city would have sucked and she’d never flown in a helicopter before.
Monica twisted in her seat to look at the three of them tucked in the back. “Have you met my husband?” They all wore earphones so they could talk to each other in-flight. Trent was navigating over rooftops as he made his way to the building where Fairchild Charters headquarters were located. “Believe me,” Monica continued, “I’d much rather drive.”
“Oh, you love it,” Trent said.
Monica shook her head but smiled when Trent looked her way. “I do it for you, Barefoot.”
Dakota found it highly entertaining that Monica had a fear of flying when her husband was one-third owner of the largest chartering company for private jets and helicopters. According to Monica, Trent would fly everywhere if he could just get clearance to land.
Trent set the helicopter down without so much as a thump. They waited until after he’d powered off the engine and the blades stopped rotating before they all jumped out.
The cold New York wind was blowing, making Dakota duck farther into her down coat.
Trent guided them to the elevator and down to the ground floor.
The building was virtually empty over the holiday weekend. Security watched them as they walked by.
“I have a car waiting to take you ladies wherever you want to go.”
Dakota grinned. “What, you guys don’t want to join us?”
Walt lifted one eyebrow. “For manicures and endless shoe shopping? How about we meet up with you for lunch?”
“Dinner at Bar Mesa. Lunch is only a couple of hours away and who knows where we’ll be.”
“So we’ll meet at the hotel by six?” Trent asked.
They were staying in the city until Monday so Dakota could take care of her publisher business and deliver a surprise package to her agent and editor.
They stepped back out into the cold and Walt pulled Dakota close. “Careful, the sidewalks are slick.”
“I’m a big girl.”
He kissed her briefly and touched the end of her nose. “You’re a tiny girl with precious cargo who might make you off your game. Be careful . . . for me.”
With a request like that, she was helpless to do anything but nod. “What are you guys going to do?”
“I think there’s a nudey bar on the east side,” Trent teased.
Monica, not missing a beat, said, “You enjoy that, Barefoot.”
“Any other woman would be jealous.”
“Of heroin-addicted anorexic bodies twisting around a pole? I don’t think so.”
Dakota laughed. “Sounds appetizing.”
Mary, in true Mary form, added, “I’m sure they’re not all addicts.”
Dakota shivered against the cold and laughed. “OK, Miss Literal. Let’s get our minds out of the stripper bar and on to some serious Christmas shopping. I have goals, ladies, and they don’t involve freezing my butt off out here.”
They climbed into the back of a limousine and drove off.
“Can I just say, for the record, that I seriously love the style in which you guys live.” Dakota sat back and stretched out her boot-laden feet.
“I still pinch myself,” Monica told them. “My sister and I grew up without much of anything. It’s taken Trent a few years to get me used to having money and spending it.”
The long car moved along the New York streets, horns blaring and pedestrians trying to outmaneuver the cars. Even though the temperature dipped into the twenties and snow was in the forecast, the city buzzed with energy and droves of people filled every cement corner.
“We had all we needed.” Dakota added her own experience with money. “Both parents, a house, food, and discipline but there wasn’t anything excessive. We took family vacations, national parks, big attractions, stuff like that. That’s all I really want for my kids.”
“But this is so much better,” Mary said.
“It doesn’t suck.”
The driver’s name was Nathaniel, and he knew his way around the city and managed to get them curbside for every store they wanted to patronize. Window shopping in New York consisted of real windows. Some of the most recognizable department stores decorated their windows with massive holiday displays. Bell-ringing Santas stood on every corner.
They walked passed Bulgari and Monica paused. “Let’s go in.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “Why?”
“I wanna look. Besides, Trent likes buying me stupid expensive stuff. I might as well figure out what I like and lead him in the right direction.”
They stepped into the warm jewelry store and Monica huddled close. “I have an idea.”
“Oh?” Dakota removed her gloves and rubbed warmth back into her fingers. Her thin California blood was showing.
“We distract them with you looking for the perfect ring, and I can shop in peace.”
“The perfect wedding ring?”
“Sure. Not a stretch with Junior on board.” Monica looked down at Dakota’s belly, which seemed to be expanding daily since she shopped for maternity clothes.
“Perfect idea,” Mary said.
Dakota rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
Monica laughed like a schoolgirl and headed to the wedding sets like a woman on a mission. “I’m telling you, this is the only place Trent shops.”