“Flight attendants, it is safe to move about the cabin," the captain says, and the whole plane erupts in applause. I open my eyes and feel Cal's left arm still wrapped around me. I am enjoying being held in his arms when I look down to our adjoining hands and suck in my breath. Our hands are conveniently located in my lap, only a few inches from my crotch, and I have completely nestled his arm in between my breasts. I quickly pull out of his arms only to bang my head on his chin. We both say "ouch" at the same time and look at each other - him rubbing his chin, while I rub my head. We can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles out of both of us.
"Holy fucking shit, that was scary!"
"Oh my god, I thought we were going to die!"
We continue laughing, letting the therapy of laughter ease the tension out of our bodies.
3
I am not one to indulge on flights for work, but a cocktail is definitely in order after what seemed like a near death experience. The flight attendants start their inflight beverage services, and we are more than happy to receive the free champagne. Personally, I feel that the whole flight deserves some champagne and not just first class. The attendant brings us our drinks and without realizing what I am doing, I gulp my drink down.
"Well, I was going to toast to us being alive, but now I see you have started the fun without me," Cal jokes as he notices my empty glass.
"Sorry," I say, as I grimace from the taste of the not so great quality champagne. "I just needed something quick to calm my nerves and let's not jinx ourselves, the flight isn’t over yet."
"This is true. Let's get you another drink." He attempts to get the flight attendant’s attention, but I stop him before he can hit the help button.
"No, that is all right. I usually don't drink on flights, and I have a bottle of water in my bag that will be just fine." I grab the water from my bag underneath the seat in front of me. He holds out his drink to me and toasts "to a quiet, calm, and easy remaining flight." We clink our drinks together - his champagne to my water bottle - and drink, our eyes locked together as we enjoy the cool liquid going down our dry throats. His eyes move to my lips as a drop of water escapes from the tip of the water bottle and runs down my chin. Blushing, I wipe the back of my hand against my mouth and chin, breaking the intense gaze he has captured over me. Drinking water just turned VERY sensual as thoughts of him licking the water off me enter my mind. I need to start doing some work to get my mind off of what this man would be like in bed. I reach down to retrieve my laptop to start working on some more theme party ideas for my blog.
“Please don’t tell me you are going to ignore me for the rest of the flight after our groping session,” he teases while nodding toward my laptop. Of course, I don’t want to work, but I am afraid that I will make a fool out of myself if I keep talking to him.
“I wasn’t necessarily going to ignore you, I was just going to try to do some work in between our conversations,” I respond back with a grin.
“Good answer, but what exactly do you do for a living that makes working right now so important?”
“I own an event planning business, my specialty being children’s theme parties. I create the parties, and then showcase them on my blog. We also sell the products that we use on our website.” I pull up a design board of saved pictures from our recent photo shoot of a country fair birthday party to show him. “My assistant and I will create a party, design it with products from the vendors we use, then set it up for a photo shoot. We will then upload the photos and create a blog post on that party. Sometimes clients want the type of parties we already feature on the blog or we have a meeting with them, and custom design a party to match their children’s interests or hobbies.”
“I had no idea that children’s parties can get so detailed. Very impressive. This makes you enough money for it to be your full-time job?” he pins me with a skeptical look, one eyebrow arched higher than the other.
“Yes, Dad, I make enough money to support myself and pay an assistant,” I joke, noting that he sounds just like my father did when I first told him my business idea. “People who have lots of money want to have fabulous and unique parties. We understand that the average person is on a budget and might not be able to afford to hire an event planner, so we also give advice on our blog on how you can do the party yourself on a budget.”
“What made you get into this kind of business? Do you have children of your own?”
“No, no kids and I just fell out of love doing only corporate business meetings and parties. I will still do those parties when hired, but to me, there is nothing better than seeing the pure joy on a child’s face when they see their birthday party for the very first time. I like to create that imaginary world for them.” There is no need to tell him that creating these parties for other people’s children fills the void and ache that I feel for not having my own. He is probably so far removed from having kids, let alone a serious relationship.
“No kids and I don’t see a ring on your finger?” It isn’t a statement, but more of a question. It is a simple answer really, but one that stills makes me swallow down the lump in my throat.
“I am divorced,” I say quietly, not giving any more detail.
“Divorce is painful and I am sorry you went through that, but I must admit I am a bit relieved to know that I don’t have to feel guilty flirting with you.”
“Yes, but do I need to feel guilty flirting with YOU?” I smile with a questioning look.
“If what you have been doing is flirting, then you need a better teacher,” he responds back with a devilish smirk.
Shocked, I just stare at him with an incredulous look on my face, not believing that he actually insulted me. But now that I think of it, he is probably right. I have become cold, and probably so dull and boring compared to other women who sit next to him. Am I trying too hard to be calm, and play it cool around him while he is making my insides turn into jelly? He makes me want to behave like a high school girl, twirling their hair while talking to their crush. If high school girls even do that anymore. I am just an uncool, divorced, fuddy-duddy who has cobwebs on her vagina from the lack of sex.
He throws back his head and laughs. “You are so brilliantly fun to mess with!” He rubs his hands together as if he has more insults up his sleeve. I relax since he is joking with me, and I start to laugh with him.
And that is how the rest of the flight goes - filled with questions about each other, laughing and flirting. I feel like I am on a first date, the giddiness of getting to know someone new for the very first time should feel foreign, but comes easily with him. I learn that besides being single, he has two sisters, is from Broadstairs, England and lives in London when he is not shooting his TV series or a film. He got into acting because a scouting agent approached him while he was on break from school, and asked if he was interested in becoming an actor.
“I truly believe that fate played a role that day because the agent not only chose me, but also my two best mates, and we were the only ones out of our group of school friends who were on break together hired to be in a commercial. All these years later and all three of us are still acting. It just feels like it was meant to be.”
“That is pretty amazing that all three of you got chosen and are still acting,” I agree, wondering who his friends were, but didn’t want to ask.
“My friend Sean is the one who has the biggest career out of all of us. You might have heard of him if you at least go to the movies - Sean Lindsay?”
My mouth drops open. Of course, I even know who Sean Lindsay is. He is a huge movie star, especially with romantic comedies. Rumor is that he even might be the next James Bond.
“Yes, I know of him. Who is your other friend?”
“Cora Gregory.”
Cora Gregory is every male species object of wet dreams. One look at her, and men probably blow a load in their pants. She is gorgeous, with green cat-like eyes and long, black hair. In photos, she either has resting bitch face or is making love to
the camera with those hypnotizing eyes that make men bend to her will.
“Wow, Cora Gregory, huh? She’s beautiful. Why are you not dating her?” The question slips out of my mouth before I could keep my curiosity at bay.
“Everyone asks me that because we attend events together, but to be quite honest, she’s more like family to me. I just don’t have those feelings for her.”
My face must have shown my utter disbelief at his statement because he smiles and laughs. “Why does everyone think that is bullshit coming out of my mouth? I am well aware of her beauty. I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t notice it, but even to this day, I only see her as one of my sisters. I have known her since she was a lanky, skinny young girl who had a horrible home life. Sean and I decided we were going to protect her at school from all of the wankers and mean girls. That’s all it has ever been for me.”
I silently ponder what he just said. As we sit in compatible silence for once, the captain choses this time to announce that we will be making our descent into Las Vegas and for the flight attendants to prepare for landing. Cal and I smile at each other as I pack up my carry-on bag with my items, being very careful to make sure it doesn’t fall on his feet again. As I place the bag underneath the seat in front of me and wait for us to land, I realize that this has been one of the best flights I have ever been on, despite the turbulence from take-off. Not because I am sitting next to a man who is physically gorgeous, but because I am sitting next to a human being who cared enough about my well-being, and was curious as to the type of person I am. He engaged with me the whole flight, and genuinely listened to everything I said. I would expect actors to not even give the time of day to the stranger sitting next to them on a flight.
“Are you okay? Do you need to hold on to me for landing?” he asks with concern as the plane is about to touch down.
“I actually like landing!” I say with a laugh.
“Really? That is the most dangerous part!”
“I know, silly isn’t it? But to me, landing signifies that we have arrived, and that makes me happy.”
“Well, I get scared at landings and you owe me some emotional support, so hold my hand.” He grabs my hand and holds it on his tight thigh.
“I find it VERY hard to believe that you are scared of landing.” I laugh back at him.
“Men can be as sensitive as women, just in different departments,” he says, holding my eye contact.
I blush and look away, telling myself that he is just being nice and not to read into anything.
“Thank you for helping me,” I say softly, not wanting to say anything more but hoping he can see my sincerity and gratitude through my eyes.
“The pleasure has been all mine,” he says, as the plane touches down with a small bump.
I smile at him and pat his hand, breaking the contact. We reach for our phones, turning them on while the flight attendants welcome us to Las Vegas and ask that we stay seated until we safely stop at the gate. I scroll through my text messages from Robert and Layla, trying to stay focused and busy, while realizing that I will probably never see him again. A reality that is surprisingly disappointing.
We reach the gate and as soon as the plane parks, the clicks of seatbelts unbuckling fill the air. I suddenly feel shy, like I have no idea how to say goodbye to him. I decide to stand up and stretch my legs instead. Since we are in first class, we really don't have a long wait to depart the plane. I turn and notice he has decided to stand as well.
"Thank you again, and I truly hope you have a wonderful time here.”
"Thank you, I hope you do too. When does your conference start?" he asks.
"It officially starts Wednesday morning, but I have some prep work I have to do before then," I say, as I move out onto the aisle to depart.
"CAL! CAL! Can you please wait so I can get a picture with you?" We turn to look down the aisle to see Big Head frantically trying to make her way past people to get to the front. He gives her thumbs up and we continue to walk out of the airplane.
"Mr. Harrington, do you mind stepping aside and taking some photos with our flight crew real quick?" one of the flight attendance asks him as well.
"I don't mind at all," he says, smiling at them. I feel that this is the perfect opportunity to just walk away and stop feeling so awkward about saying goodbye.
"Best of luck, Cal Harrington!” I wave and without waiting for a response back, I turn and walk up the jetway.
4
The sounds of the ringing are faint at first, but increase through the jetway, the noise intensifing to the point of hammering in the eardrums. The vibration gets the heart racing faster and faster. The mysterious noise coming from the terminal can only be identified at the end of the jetway.
Slot machines. Rows upon rows of them. A pastime for passengers to use while they wait.
Welcome to Las Vegas! A place where you find yourself amongst the most opulent and the seediest. I watch in wonder as I walk past the slot machines to catch the tram to baggage claim. I have never been much of a gambler, and don't understand how one can get addicted to something that majority of the time will take your money with no return on investment. I have occasionally indulged, but never spent more than twenty dollars. My enjoyment in Las Vegas comes from the shows and the themed hotels along the Strip, which has become a mini Times Square. Even though this is a business trip, I hope for some play and relaxation time. With the convention starting on Wednesday, I plan on using my two and a half extra days to catch up on work, relax, and take the sights in. Thinking about nice sights, my thoughts wander to the fine specimen that is Cal Harrington. I take my time getting to the tram, trying to look casual as I take one more look around, hoping for a glimpse of him. Realizing I am just wasting my time, I get on the crowded tram.
How did I not know about him? I know he is an up and coming actor, but I have never seen a more beautiful looking human in my life. Despite my lack of television consumption, I am surprised I have not seen him on the cover of the magazines that are in the newsstand right outside my apartment building. I would have definitely picked up any of those magazines to read about him. How is a man like that single? Those full sensual lips, I wonder what they would even feel like.
Ugh, stop it Jenna! I need to just stop my thoughts in their tracks. Rid my mind of him, as he is not reality, but complete fantasy. And we all know that most fantasies do not come true. With that mental pep talk, I start checking my emails while the tram takes us to baggage claim. As the tram slows to our destination, I flag the emails that need an immediate response when I get to the hotel. I join the exiting crowd, and look for my flight’s designated area. Since our luggage has not arrived yet, I decide to call Robert.
“Hola, mi amore,” he answers.
“You jinxed me.”
“How?”
“I sat next to Cal Harrington on the plane,” I whisper, looking around to make sure no one is standing too close to hear my conversation.
“In your dreams!” he laughs.
“No seriously, I actually did. And you are right, he is completely gorgeous. I know you really appreciated his back view, but it doesn’t even come close to the breathtaking front view.”
“WHAT?! First off, OF COURSE his front view is going to be better than the back view because that’s where his big, lovely cock is and secondly, I cannot believe that I put out there in the universe that you might be sitting next to him and you actually did! Did you get his phone number? I swear, I am a fucking psychic. I deserve a raise for your five-hour pleasurable flight. Did you join the mile-high club at least? I so hate you right now.”
I laugh at his utter ridiculousness. “No, I did not join the mile-high club or get his phone number. Why would he even give someone like me his phone number? And your raise all depends on if we surpass our revenue quota this year.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, get back to the part of Cal Harrington. What did you all talk about?”
“You know, like the basic stuff. Where we are
from, our careers, umm…” I pause to think of what else we talked about.
“BOOORRRIIINNGGG. You are lucky he didn’t fall asleep on you.”
“Ah yes, because as you like to remind me, I am so boring.”
“Just keeping it real, Jens, just keeping it real,” he laughs.
“Conveniently, the conveyor belt for baggage has started to move, so on that note, I am done talking to you. I hope you have a wonderful day of stormy weather and itchy balls!” I hang up on him as he continues laughing at me.
I roll my eyes with a smile on my face at our conversation. I think it was a wise decision that I came alone to Las Vegas. Sin City would have been too much temptation for my dear Robert, who doesn’t like to miss a party where he can’t be the center of attention. I have zero interest in personal attention or partying. Maybe I have become boring, but I have worked too hard building my career up. One night of making bad decisions can ruin it all, and I am not willing to gamble it all away.
The movement of people around me grabbing their luggage brings me out of my thoughts, and I immediately recognize my large red suitcase rounding the corner towards me. I put my cell phone back into my purse and lean down to retrieve the handle.
“That looks heavy, let me get it for you.”
I look up just as Cal is grabbing my bag for me. I can’t help the overly bright smile that is now plastered on my face.
“Thank you so much for doing that. Where is your luggage?” I look around for his bag but don’t see anything with him.
“It is already in the car. They were kind enough to pull it from the plane first while I was signing autographs. I saw you as I was walking out, so I handed it to my driver first before coming back over to help.”
“That was really nice of you to stop, thank you. You mentioned you have a driver? Did you fail your American Driver License’s test that you can’t drive yourself around?” Why I even attempt to try to sound witty and flirty with him is beyond me. Why would he rent a car when he is a celebrity and gets drivers? He is so good looking that it makes me feel uncomfortable to the point that I feel like I sound like a complete idiot when talking to him.
Heartbreak Warfare (Let Me In Book 1) Page 3
