Chapter 297
**Tom**
The plane touched down with a gentle bump. I blinked away the lingering fog of half-sleep, my body protesting the long flight despite the luxury accommodations.
"Welcome to Sydney, Mr. Blackwood." Joseph's voice carried that same cheerful tone he always managed, even after endless hours in the air. Show-off.
The familiar routine kicked in - customs, baggage, car service. Everything flowed with practiced efficiency, though my brain felt like it was still somewhere over the Pacific.
I stumbled into the waiting Bentley, my body clock thoroughly confused about what time it actually was. The driver, bless him, didn't attempt small talk. Just smooth driving through Sydney's streets while I tried to remember which day it was supposed to be.
My phone told me it was Saturday. Or maybe Sunday in Australia? Hell if I knew anymore. The calendar app showed three back-to-back meetings Monday? - whatever. I should've cared more about the billion-dollar deals waiting for me, but all I could think about was whether my hotel had decent coffee.
The car pulled up to the entrance, and an army of staff materialized to handle my bags. I nodded at faces I probably should've recognized from previous stays, letting muscle memory guide me through check-in.
The bellhop swung open the door to my suite with a practiced flourish. I managed a tired smile - the poor guy probably expected more enthusiasm for the panoramic harbor views and hand-carved whatever the hell that fancy table was made from.
"Will you be requiring anything else, Mr. Blackwood?"
"Just sleep. And coffee. Lots of coffee." I waved him off with a generous tip.
The door clicked shut behind him, and I face-planted straight into the king-sized bed.
I groaned into Egyptian cotton, wondering if I could just conduct business meetings from this exact position. Probably not professional, but the bed felt like clouds wrapped in silk. My brain screamed for caffeine while my body demanded sleep, creating a war between basic functions.
Coffee won. It always did.
The rich aroma hit me before the door fully opened. Thank God for five-star hotels and their understanding of caffeine emergencies. The server wheeled in what looked like enough coffee to fuel a small army—or one jet-lagged billionaire.
"Your coffee service, Mr. Blackwood."
I managed something between a grunt and "thanks," which apparently counted as dismissal because he disappeared with practiced stealth. Rich people must make that sound a lot.
The first sip was pure heaven. Whoever roasted these beans deserved a raise. Actually, I should buy the roastery and add it to the collection of "things Tom impulse-purchased while under-caffeinated."
Two cups later, my brain finally reconnected with my body. The Sydney skyline sparkled through floor-to-ceiling windows, all harbor views and architectural showing off. It was nice, but my apartment back home had better coffee.
Speaking of home...
I fumbled for my phone, squinting at the too-bright screen. Right. Message Sara. Keep it casual. Don't sound like a lovesick teenager who counted the minutes since takeoff.
"Landed safe. Hotel coffee doesn't suck."
Delete.
"In Sydney. Missing your terrible morning attitude already."
Delete.
"Made it. The bed's too big without you stealing all the covers."
Delete.
God, when did I turn into such a sap? I blamed the jet lag. And Sara's smile. Mostly Sara's smile.
"Survived the flight. The hotel's showing off with fancy coffee, but yours is better. Don't let it go to your head."
Send.
There. The perfect balance of "I'm thinking of you" and "I'm definitely not counting down the days until I see you again."
I tossed my phone onto the bed, determined not to stare at it like some teenager waiting for a text back. The view from the window beckoned—all glittering harbor and expensive architecture competing for attention. I had been there, seen that, and bought the overpriced souvenir shop.
My body screamed for sleep, but my mind raced with coffee and jet lag. The bed felt too soft, too perfect, too... empty. I'd gotten used to Sara's constant pillow theft and blanket hoarding. Now, all this expensive bedding just felt wrong.
The phone buzzed.
I definitely didn't lunge for it. That would be undignified. I merely reached with enhanced enthusiasm.
"How's Australia?" Her message popped up, making me grin despite my exhaustion.
Me: Same as last year. Buildings still standing. The harbor is still wet. Koalas still plotting world domination.
Sara: That's it? No dramatic tales of adventure? No wild dingo chases or surfing with sharks?
I snorted.
Me: Oh right, my mistake. Everything's completely different. The Opera House grew legs and went swimming. Parliament declared war on New Zealand. And I just watched two kangaroos in a fistfight over the last TimTam.
Sara: Now that's more like it! I expected at least one deadly spider story.
Me: Give me time. I've only been here forty minutes. The really dangerous ones don't come out until happy hour.
I rolled onto my back, phone held above my face like the sophisticated businessman I definitely was. The ceiling looked exactly like every other hotel ceiling I'd stared at, but somehow, this one felt more entertaining than usual.
Me: The drop bears are particularly vicious this season. Had to fight three off just getting from the plane to the car.
Sara: Drop bears?
Me: Deadly Australian koalas that drop from trees onto unsuspecting tourists. Very dangerous. You have to wear protective headgear at all times.
Sara: You're making that up.
Me: I would never. I'm a very serious person who only tells very serious truths about very serious marsupials.
Her response was just an eye-roll emoji, but I could picture her exact expression. That half-smile she got when trying not to encourage my ridiculousness.
Me: Just wait until I tell you about the boxing kangaroos running security at the Sydney Stock Exchange.
Sara: You're ridiculous.
Me: I'm completely serious. They wear little ties and everything. Very professional.
The jet lag was hitting hard, but talking to her made everything feel lighter. I needed to hear her voice.
I hit the call button before I could overthink it. The phone rang twice before her bright and infectious laugh filled my ear, like a burst of sunlight piercing through the fog of my exhaustion.
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