Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Roxy
Some days you just get lucky. And I guess today that’s me.
Not only did I luck out when I aced my flight-attendant’s exam (or maybe it had something to do with how hard I studied), but I also lucked out by being at the top of the list to fill in for all the girls who had to call out today and the next week as part of quarantine protocols for those who may have potentially caught COVID after attending Jess Mason’s 21st birthday party. Of course, everyone is feeling fine, but the airline doesn’t want to take any chances.
For once, I’m actually glad of my status as a social exile. Because I wasn’t invited to Jess’ party, I wasn’t exposed, which means I don’t have to quarantine, which means I get to work. My luck also shot up a level when it turned out the girl I was filling in for was working first class, an assignment I’d normally have to wait at least 3-6 months to get. Not only that, but the Boeing 777 I’m working on is normally only used for overseas flights but is being rolled out this year by Delta as its first domestic flights with fully enclosed first class suites. Talk about luxury.
I was given an extra prep course before boarding to bring me up to speed with the aircraft and to introduce me to the rest of the crew I’d be working with, and to say I’m nervous would be putting it mildly. I can remember how quickly my heart was racing the first time I flew, and I think it’s been pounding even faster than that since take-off.
But it’s not because I’m nervous about my job; I’m confident about that. It’s not because I’m worried about my co-workers; they all seem nice. No, it’s because of him.
Conrad Ford, passenger 2A, tall, chestnut-colored hair, just the right amount of stubble, well-dressed but not too well-dressed, with just one carry-on and an intent, piercing gaze that makes me think he’s anything but a businessman like the rest of first class.
I felt it the moment I saw him. That feeling you get when you know you’re going to be distracted and not be able to get your work done the way you’re supposed to, and considering this is my first day working first class and there’s a lot riding on this, that’s a big problem for me.
But what am I supposed to do? Mr. 2A is gorgeous. He took up the entire aisle with those big, broad shoulders of his when he first boarded the plane, and he moved with the grace and precision of a fighter, like he owned the place and everyone else was just a guest. I tried to greet like he was any other passenger, but when I opened my mouth to speak, we locked eyes, and I just sort of froze up, completely forgot what I was supposed to say, and Hannah, a flight-attendant with more experience than me, had to cover for me.
What is wrong with me? I remember thinking as he brushed past and headed for his suite. I could feel the goosebumps on my forearms and glanced over at Hannah, who was giving me a look like, Are you kidding?
Sorry! I mouthed back as I quickly went about my pre-flight duties, remembering thinking that once we got in the air I’d calm down and everything would be fine.
I was wrong.
It’s not even time for the first drink service, but I see the light for 2A blinking, signaling he’s requesting service. Of course part of me wants to be the one to help him, but another part of me wants Hannah or Jane to take care of it so I don’t potentially face a nervous breakdown. But Jane is nowhere to be found, and Hannah is organizing the drinks, so it’s up to me.
I walk quickly to the door of his suite and knock. His reply is almost instant, and I open the door to find him within. He looks up at me like a king seated in his throne. There’s a brief moment of what looks like disappointment in his eyes when he sees me.
“Mr. Ford?” I say in my best flight-attendant’s voice. “May I help you with something?”
“Oh, yes. I was looking for… Never mind.” He shakes his head. “Just some ice water.”
“Of course.” I smile as he looks away, back to a tablet in his lap. I close the door behind me and go back to the drink station, where Hannah is making a vodka-soda. I sigh as I lean against the cabinet, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.
“Mr. 2A?” Hannah giggles. “Kinda gorgeous?”
I open my eyes and glance over at her. “Kinda? I don’t know how I’m going to make it to Los Angeles.”