Christopher's POV
As the wheels of the jet touched down on the tarmac, I jolted awake. Ashley was still curled against me, drooling slightly on my Armani suit. Great.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," I muttered, gently shaking her awake.
She stirred, blinking groggily. "Are we there yet?"
"No, I just wanted to wake you up for fun," I deadpanned. "Of course, we're here. It's the crack of dawn in the Big Apple."
We stumbled out of the jet, the chilly morning air slapping us awake better than any espresso could. My driver was already waiting with the car, looking annoyingly chipper for this ungodly hour.
"Good morning, Mr. Wallace," he chirped. "How was your flight?"
"Peachy," I grumbled, sliding into the backseat. Ashley followed, still half-asleep.