by H. T. Night
What a break! I wondered if the Triat had something to do with it. I sat back in my seat and smiled.
“This has been a very odd flight,” Helen said, leaning over to me.
“Oh, you have no idea!” I said laughing. I looked over at Helen and noticed she was wearing a completely different outfit than she had on earlier. She was now wearing a colorful blue and orange sundress with her legs nicely on display. She had very nice stems. She must have changed in the bathroom when I was sleeping. Speaking of which, it is about that time for me also.
“Excuse me,” I said to Helen and unbuckled my seatbelt and sat up out of my seat. I made my way around Helen and noticed a strange scratch on the back of her neck. I thought it was odd. “Wow, that’s some scratch!” I said.
Helen felt the back of her neck and said, “I have a pretty frisky kitty.”
“I bet you do,” I said, not sure if she meant anything sexual by her statement.
I went to the bathroom area of the plane.
Damn, it was cramped.
I took care of business and then checked my hair in the mirror. It was pretty messy. My hair was in serious need of a good haircut.
I decided to turn the water faucet on and put my entire head in the sink. It’s a quick trick I do to get my hair in order fast.
I took off my leather jacket and dumped my head into the tiny sink. I used paper towels to dry my hair off. I slicked back my hair using my fingers.
Why was I doing this? Was I trying to impress Helen?
She definitely seemed interested in me, but that is the last thing I needed to worry about. I had enough on my plate trying to get to Romania in one piece. Not to mention the whole I’m-in-love-with-Lena part.
Lena wasn't officially my girlfriend or anything, but she did tell me she loved me. I was pretty damn sure I loved her. But, there was something very intriguing and sexy about Helen. But that was as far as I was going to take it.
So there I was, primping in the mirror trying to look good for a woman that I knew nothing was going to come of it.
My blonde hair curled over with a little superman twist that would make Christopher Reeves jealous. My eyes were looking especially blue. It must have been the lighting. My face was remarkably mark free, which was a miracle considering how many life altering fights I had been in over the last few months. My black shirt was wrinkled from sleeping in a chair. I did my best to straighten it over my blue jeans.
I am a sexy beast! That’s for damn sure!
I stepped out of the restroom holding my leather jacket and walked back to my seat. The stewardess caught my attention and asked, “Would you like your meal now? You were asleep when I passed them out.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“You have a choice between meatloaf and chicken.”
“And what if I'm a vegan?”
“Then we can double up your sides.”
“Lucky for me I'm not a vegan. I’ll take the chicken.” The waitress shook her head and was not amused with my antics.
I stepped inside my row and in front of Helen. She was listening to her MP3 player and just scooted aside as I walked in front of her.
I sat back in my seat and flipped down the movie thingamajig in front of me. Bridget Jones Diary 1 and 2? Are you kidding me? I am not a chick flick dude; Tommy was into movies like Fried Green Tomatoes and Prince of Tides. I swore I saw him crying during both films. I flipped through the movie list. Are there any Action flicks? Hell, I was an action movie all by myself. Someone should write my story and put it on the big screen. I flipped through each movie. All there was were Adam Sandler flicks and British titles that I didn't even recognize. I sat back and sighed.
“Nothing good?” Helen said to me, with a sense of sarcasm in her voice.
“Nope! You have the right idea listening to music.”
Helen took her earplugs out of her ears and looked over at me. “We should be in London in a couple of hours.”
“It appears to be that way.” I smiled at her.
“So Josiah, what is a young man like yourself going to a country like Romania for?”
“You could say I'm going there on business.”
“What business is that?”
I grinned. “I'm in the business of kicking ass.”
Helen expected me to laugh or say I was kidding. She sat waiting for me to make another statement. “Oh, you're being serious. What the hell do you do?”
So this is where I now needed to lie to people. I haven't had to do this yet, so I wasn't even sure if it was going to sound good. “I'm a fighter. I'm going there for training. I’m meeting up with a trainer.”
Okay, so far that is the total truth.
“A fighter? Like a boxer?” she asked.
“Yes, I box. I also do other things.”
“What kind of other things.”
“I kick.”
“You’re a kick boxer?”
“No, I’m a mixed martial arts fighter.” I still wasn’t lying. I was technically still in the Commission.
“Oh, okay,” she said, nodding her head. “That is very interesting.”
“That’s me,” I said. “I’m Mr. Interesting.”
Mr. Interesting? Are you kidding me? Why was I being such a tool? Then I smiled like a total dork.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Josiah?”
I looked at Helen and wasn’t sure how to answer the question. So I said, “That's the billion dollar question!”
“A billion dollars?” Helen asked. “Not a million? Damn, it must be complicated!”
“Not so much… complicated,” I said. “There has just been a lot of drama really fast.”
“Do you want the drama?”
“Not exactly. No one could be prepared for the kind of drama I’ve seen.”
“Why don’t you get out of the relationship?”
“The drama isn’t about her. She's not the one creating it.”
“Who is creating it?”
Here is where I say, the Triat, werewolves, vampires, and something like that. But, I don’t want her to think I should be in a mental institution, so I better say, “An ex-boyfriend.”
“Does she still love him?”
I paused. “That I don't know for sure. I suppose she does. But he isn’t exactly with us any longer.”
“He died?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I get it. And she still cares about him. Well, that isn't good.”
“There's a lot about the entire situation that I can't really explain.”
“Try me.”
“Something is constantly drawing me to her. Sometimes I feel like it’s beyond this world.”
“Something supernatural?” she asked.
“Actually, that’s exactly what I think it is.”
“Wow! You’re a romantic!”
I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing with her. “I’m not a romantic,” I said. “Trust me! I'm the farthest thing from that, but when something keeps staring you in the face, you eventually give in to it and consider it might be a higher power that has brought you together.”
“Uh oh... you're not a religious fanatic are you?”
“Not in the slightest. I will say this though, anyone who is a humanist and thinks this world is the beginning, middle, and end is greatly mistaken.”
“And how does Josiah know that it’s not?” she asked.
I looked at Helen and smirked. I really wasn’t planning on getting into such a deep conversation with her. I was actually surprised that we were having a philosophical dialogue so quickly.
I don’t know why, but I think I trusted her. Maybe, it’s because when we talk, she constantly makes eye contact with me. Or maybe it’s the fact that she’s even interested at all. What I do know is that I can’t reveal too much to a random record producer I just met on an airplane.
“So Helen,” I said. “What’s your story?”
“My story isn’t quite that interesting. No boyfrie
nd and I haven’t quite figured out the meaning of our existence like some people.” Helen winked at me.
Damn, she was cute. Stop it Josiah! Think of Lena. Remember her? You know, the girl who laid her body on top of you, while a seven foot werewolf was trying to kill you.
I decided to reel the conversation back in and keep it light. I found it very easy to talk to her, almost as if we were talking over the phone. We talked for the next couple of hours about movies, politics, and current events. It was shocking how we had practically the same opinion on most subjects. We both seemed to like the same things. It was effortless talking to her; almost like we had known each other forever. She was cute as hell, but my heart was with Lena.
Then the pilot came over the speaker to let us know that we would be landing at Heathrow airport shortly.
“Wow!” Helen said. “That was the fastest eleven hour flight that I have ever been on.”
“It did go by fairly quick, didn’t it?”
“Good conversation tends to do that.”
“Yes it does,” I agreed.
“You know what we did, don’t you?” Helen looked at me intently.
“What did we do?” I said, concerned.
“We had the all-night-talk.”
“What’s that?”
“You know when you first meet someone and hit it off; you spend all night talking to them on the phone. That’s what we had. We talked about everything.”
“It was fun talking to you,” I said.
Helen started to say something and then stopped.
“What?” I asked.
“I have this stupid dinner tonight, and it’s a couple’s thing, and I don’t have anyone to go with.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure you won’t have a hard time finding a date!”
Helen was quiet.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I don’t want to find a date. I want to go with you.” She had a giant beautiful smile on her face.
I had a feeling that was where she was leading, but I was afraid to hear the answer. The weird part was that I didn’t know why I was scared. Was it because I thought she didn’t want to go with me, or was it that it would put me in a predicament with Lena? “My flight to Romania is in five hours,” I told her.
“Do you have a set time you are to meet your trainer?”
I thought about it for a moment. I really didn’t have a set time for anything. The gnome was waiting for me, regardless. Helen could tell by my expression that I was considering it.
“Listen,” she said. “I know the guy who runs the Claridge’s Hotel. He’ll put you up in his best suite. It’s like 5,000 dollars a night.”
“I don’t have that kind of money,” I said, shocked.
“Don’t worry. He owes me a favor.”
Damn, just to stay in a suite that’s 5,000 dollars a night would be worth it.
“It’s the Davies Penthouse,” she continued. “It is immaculate.”
“You have that kind of influence?” I asked, concerned.
Helen laughed, “Oh Josie, you have no idea.”
I sat back and thought for a moment. I really wanted to do this. After all the crap I’ve been through, this sounded like a blast.
“Ok, two things,” I said. “One, you need to know that I am very serious about how I feel towards Lena and I would be escorting you as a friend.”
“No problem. I just want to spend a little bit more time with you. You’re a pretty cool guy, Josiah. That’s exactly what I think, that we could be great friends. What’s the second thing?”
“Never call me Josie ever again.”
“You got it Jo-Jo.”
I shot her a look and we both buckled our seatbelts before we landed.
Chapter Three
I knew the second I got off the plane that I was going to need a specific plan in regards to the sun. I was about to embark on a lot of pain if I wasn’t quick and precise in how I left the airport.
Helen told me she has a limo picking us up out front. I could avoid the sun until I knew the limousine was there.
Helen and I walked through Heathrow terminal and, luckily, it was a windowless airport. As we approached the front entrance, I knew I was bound to see glass doors and windows. Sure enough, as we rounded the corner there they were like blades of rays attacking my skin.
Holy shit! It felt like I was on the sun.
I looked over at Helen and she was walking exceptionally fast and that was good thing. She was wearing a rather large hat and a very long fur coat. That was her third outfit!
Helen rushed through the sliding glass doors and went straight to her limousine that was right at the entrance. I followed close behind and was very pleased how this was working out. I noticed that the limousine had extremely dark windows. They were darkest windows I had ever seen. The chauffeur already had the door open for us and we both rushed into the limousine. As we did so, something unusual started happening. Paparazzi were flashing light bulbs at us! There was a ton of them! They were taking pictures and yelling all sorts of things. At one point I swore one of them yelled the name Ginger.
We eventually settled into the limousine and the chauffeur slammed the door behind us..
“Was that for you?” I asked.
Helen grinned.
Who was this famous record producer that has paparazzi following her?
“Helen, who are you?”
“I'm Helen.”
“Helen who?”
“Helen Martin.”
“Are you famous in England?”
“What do you think? Do the paparazzi follow regular people around in America?”
“Aren’t you American?”
“No.”
“But you had no hint of a British accent,” I said.
Helen decided to change her voice into a thick Cockney accent and she said, “Really Governor, do all Brits need to sound like Harry Potter or Oliver?”
“Very funny, but any Brit I know has an accent. Look at Simon Cowell or Pierce Morgan. Both those guys couldn’t hide their accent if they tried.”
“I spend a lot of time in the states and I had a lot of voice training. I can do whatever accent fits the situation.”
“Okay, that is cool. But again... who are you? We established you're British, but tell me why the paparazzi treated you as if you are the love child of Lindsey Lohan and Justin Bieber.
“Oh, Josiah,” she laughed. “I'm the Duchess of Windsor.”
“You're royalty?” I asked.
“Most Duchesses are.”
Holy crap! I was really taken aback. “Does the paparazzi treat all royalty like that?”
“No, unfortunately, I have made headlines as of late.”
“How?”
“Well, I dated Mario Moses.”
“The sports billionaire, Mario Moses? The guy who owns the Knicks and the Bears? Are you kidding me?”
“No, I wish I was. He was old enough to be my dad.”
“Why did you date him?”
“Cause he's richer than God.” She settled in and said, “He moved down here for awhile and we had a few ugly fights in public. They were sprayed all over the tabloids in both England and the United States. I'm actually shocked you have no idea who I am.”
“Don’t be. I have never watched TMZ.”
“It's actually refreshing. It was nice to know someone that had no idea who I was.”
“Well, dear. I've been a little busy the last couple of months saving the world.”
“I bet you have.” Helen then smiled at me and poured a drink.
“That explains why there was no one sitting in the last eight rows. That was for your benefit. How did I get through?”
Helen grinned. “Some things are left to fate. I asked them to allow any 18-24 male that was by himself to buy a window ticket in my row. Little did I know it was going to be one of the hottest guys I've had the pleasure of meeting in quite some time.
Her comment made me blush, or whatev
er vampires do when they get embarrassed. I doubt blood rushed to my face, but then who knows?
“So, now that you know this bit of info, do you still want to accompany me tonight at the dinner?”
I smiled. “I actually liked the fact that you were a record producer. I thought I was going to meet Paul McCartney tonight.”
“Well, I burn songs on my computer and label all my CD's Helen's Mixes. I can give you one if you like. And, I think Paul just might be showing up.”
“Are you kidding?” I asked, nearly falling out of my seat in the limo.
“He usually comes to all the soirees put on by the British elite.”
“Wow, Sergeant Pepper in ‘da house!”
“Don’t get all star-struck, Josiah.”
“Are you kidding? He is a freaking Beatle!”
“So, I take it you still want to come. Even knowing I’m a Duchess and we’ll probably be hounded by more paparazzi?”
“Oh, I’m coming. You can count on that.”
The limo pulled into a special entrance at the biggest and nicest hotel I had ever seen.
“Oh, by the way,” Helen said, “I'll let you take a private plane to Romania to see your trainer. So you're welcome to stay as long as you like. Go check out Stonehenge, you yanks seem to get off on looking at those big rocks!”
“I just might do that.”
'Who knows? Maybe I'll accompany you.”
“Maybe,” I said.
Uh oh! Don't get smitten at her power here, Josiah. Don't forget your goal. You have a whole Mani race depending on you.
It was just nice to take a break. Life had been going a hundred miles an hour. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn't a vampire or a werewolf and was just normal. I looked over at Helen in her limousine. Well, maybe not too normal. I'll take human by this point.
“You didn't have a suitcase?” Helen asked. “You took a trip halfway across the world and you don't bring anything?”
“I’m a man with simple needs.”
“Apparently, but some might say that’s straight ghetto.”
“What do you know about being ghetto?”
“I just always wanted to say that.” Helen pulled a card out of her wallet. “Call this number, and tell him your size and I’ll take care of the bill.”
“You really don't have to do anything like that. I'm pretty low maintenance,” I said.
