Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
It shouldn’t surprise me. I’m the least coordinated person you’ll ever meet. Honestly, if it wasn’t for a friend of mine pushing me to get a job as a flight attendant, I never would’ve considered this as a career. Planes sway and dip, and my hand-eye coordination is not good. The number of times I’ve tripped and stumbled while the plane was in motion is embarrassing.
Too bad I couldn’t use that as an excuse when I ran into the good-looking man since the plane hadn’t even left the runway yet.
Thankfully, he was nice about it—because the last thing I need is to be reported. With Dale on my case, it wouldn’t take much for HR to fire me. And I need the money from this job to support my mom since she can’t work, and her disability isn’t anywhere near enough to cover our expenses.
Once I was no longer perched on his lap, I introduced myself and offered to get him a drink. He ordered an old-fashioned—a drink I haven’t heard of in years—and I was immediately brought back to my childhood, sitting on the floor, playing with my toys, while my dad demanded my mom make him an old-fashioned.
I loved him so much, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a daddy’s girl, but he didn’t know how to keep his temper limited to the ring and his dick in his pants when he left the house. And when he drank, it only got worse.
He never hurt me, but I witnessed him hurt my mom on several occasions, and when she threatened to out him to the media—having enough evidence to prove that he was abusive—he agreed to let us go if she walked away without a dime. He thought she would choose the money over our safety and stay, but my mom was stronger than that. With my hand in hers, she walked away and never looked back.
“Unfortunately, we don’t carry Kingston on this flight,” I choke out, pushing the memories of the past aside, “but I can make it with Maker’s Mark.”
Mr. Antonov agrees, and I head to the galley to make the drink. Aside from him ordering an old-fashioned, I noticed that he preferred Kingston Limited liquor. I’m not a huge drinker, but I know a lot about liquor, thanks to years of working as a bartender, and that’s an expensive one.
“For the record,” I tell him when I set his drink down, without thinking about what I’m saying, “I prefer Kingston as well. It goes down smooth.”
The moment the words are out of my mouth, I immediately regret them. I never flirt, especially on a flight. The fantasies men have about fucking flight attendants to earn their Mile High badge is a real thing, and I never want to lead anyone on.
But there’s something about the gray-eyed man that has me not thinking clearly. Maybe it’s because it’s been months since I’ve gotten laid or it’s the stress from my mother’s doctor requesting that we meet with her, but when he looks at me with a gleam in his eye, I almost consider telling him to meet me in the restroom.
But I don’t because anybody who’s been on a commercial flight knows the restrooms are small and gross, and between my five-foot-seven self and him being well over six feet, we would never fit, let alone successfully get off.
So, instead, I smile and walk away, feeling his gaze on my ass as I sway my hips a little more than usual. Tonight, when I’m home, I’ll use him as a visual when I get myself off. At least with my vibrator, I won’t risk getting a goddamn STD.
3
Dominick
There will be no fucking anyone in the restroom of the plane. For one, the restroom is so small that it should be illegal. And two, aside from Peyton making sure I’m comfortable throughout the flight, she hasn’t indicated that she’s interested in me.
The pilot announces that we’ll be arriving in Coral Bay shortly, and the flight attendants come around to collect everyone’s trash. I’ve considered asking Peyton for her number several times, but I’ve refrained because she doesn’t seem like a one-night-stand type of woman, and with my unknown future, that’s all I could give her.
When the passengers begin to deplane, our eyes meet, and Peyton smiles warmly at me. But then one of the pilots steps out of the cockpit, and her smile drops. The guy says something to her, and she shakes her head, her features morphing from warm to annoyed. I can’t make out what is being said, but it’s clear from here that she’s uncomfortable. She walks away, thanking everyone for flying with their airline, and the entire time, the asshole stares at her like he wants to devour her.
Normally, I’d mind my own business, but this woman has me intrigued, so instead of getting off the plane and heading to my meeting, I hang back as everyone else gets off.