Up In The Air: In Flight Part 2

We grabbed a quick sandwich for lunch. It was a beautiful late spring day in New York City, and I enjoyed our walk along the bustling street. "Wanna eat in the park?" I asked Stephan as we waited in line at a crowded local deli.

He nodded. "For sure. Picnic style."

We didn't precisely eat picnic style. Instead, we settled for finding an empty bench to sit on and people watch while we ate. "Whatcha gonna wear to the bar?" Stephan asked me between big bites.

We ate fast, as though afraid the food would disappear if we didn't finish it quickly. We both ate like hungry street kids if we didn't make a conscious effort not to. We didn't bother eating any differently when it was just the two of us. We had nothing to hide from each other. It was one of the reasons we were d.a.m.n near inseparable.

"Iyonno," I said with too much food in my mouth. I swallowed, was.h.i.+ng the mouthful down with a big swig of water from the refillable bottle I'd taken to carrying around almost constantly, to save money on bottled water.

"I don't know," I said more clearly. "It's nice and warm, so some shorts and a blouse, I guess. I don't feel like dressing up, but I don't wanna look like a slob when I know everyone else will be dressing up." I gestured at the comfortable gray workout T-s.h.i.+rt, black cheer shorts, and neon green running shoes I was wearing. "What I'd like to wear is this. But I know you'd hara.s.s me, so I'll try to look halfway decent, I suppose."

"You'll have to help me pick out my outfit. I wanna look really hot tonight. I think I just might be ready to ask Melvin out this time," Stephan said. I smiled. He had said the same thing for the last three weeks, but I just agreed.

We went back to our rooms to shower and get ready for the night ahead. We chatted amiably as we got ready.

I chose some cuffed, pleated black shorts and a sleeveless black and white blouse with flowery ruffles at the neck. It was the kind of outfit I liked best. It was comfortable but feminine. Some earrings and the right shoes, and it was dressy enough for just about anything. Add practical shoes, and poof, not overdressed.

I chose sandals with a short heel tonight. I picked silver hoops from the small bag of jewelry that I always packed. I wore my hair down. It was pin-straight and the pale length hung to my mid-back.

I put my makeup on quickly, just opting for mascara and some soft pink lip gloss. I finished getting ready first, since I didn't particularly care how I looked for the outing. I sat on Stephan's bed and patiently watched him try on everything he'd packed.

We finally settled on a fitted pale gray polo with some blue and gray plaid cargo shorts that hung from his slim hips in a very attractive way. He adopted the preppy look often, and I thought it suited him. He looked like a live Abercrombie and Fitch ad. I told him so. He laughed it off, but I could tell that he was pleased by the comparison, though it was only the truth.

We got to the bar a little before four p.m., but it was already a bit of a crush. It was not a fancy bar, just an old fas.h.i.+oned Irish pub with a few karaoke nights a week, but it was in the heart of Manhattan and it was friday night, so I was not at all surprised by the crowd.

Stephan worked his magic and within minutes we had snagged seats at the bar where Melvin was working. I'd had no doubt that he would. He had a rare combination of charm and charisma and he just seemed to make things work out that way. Most of the people in this place would never find a seat on a night this crowded.

We greeted Melvin warmly, and he seemed genuinely pleased to see us. Especially Stephan, though he was very nice to me. I always went out of my way to try and befriend anyone Stephan was interested in. He was my only family, and it was important to me that I be friends with anyone he found significant.

I guessed Melvin was about our age, somewhere in his early twenties. He was just shy of six feet tall, and very slender, nearly delicate. I couldn't begin to guess his race, a mix of some kind. His skin was a naturally pale coffee color, his black hair cropped very close to his head. His eyes were a pale green. He was very handsome, and had a very engaging smile. Stephan has great taste, I thought.

"What can I get you?" Melvin had to raise his voice a little to be heard above the growing crowd. I bit my lip, looking at Stephan. I hadn't had any kind of alcohol in so long that my mind went blank. Stephan just shrugged and winked at Melvin. Whoa, that was bold for him. Melvin blushed a little and smiled back shyly.

"Surprise us. Something with liquor," Stephan told him playfully.

Melvin grinned. "Shots or c.o.c.ktails?"

"One of each. Make us your favorite of each," I declared. He left with a happy whistle to accommodate us.

I was distracted by the sound of some out-of-tune singing. We were far enough from the stage not to be deafened, but close enough to have a perfect view. That was always how it seemed to go around Stephan. He led a charmed life. "They start the Karaoke this early?" I asked Stephan, surprised.

He shrugged. "I guess so. It does seem awfully early for that, though. They need to let us get a little more buzzed before we have to listen to that."

I agreed, laughing.

Melvin was back in short order. He'd made us each a Pom-tini, which was delicious enough that I didn't think it could possibly get me drunk. He'd also brought us a shot he called 'surfer on acid'. I'd never heard of it. I smelled it, and my nose wrinkled. It was strong. "What is it?" I asked him.

"Jagermeister, pineapple juice, and coconut rum. Trust me, it's good."

Stephan grinned at him. "I trust you," he declared, and downed it. He gasped as it went down. "d.a.m.n, it is good."

I downed mine. There was only one way to do a shot, as far as I was concerned, and that way was fast. They were right, it was very good, and I felt a nearly instant, fuzzy buzz. Okaaay, I thought. I needed to slow it down. Even one shot was a shock to my system after so much time without. Though it was a shot that packed a h.e.l.l of a punch.

Melvin brought us each a gla.s.s of ice water without us having to ask, then went to tend to the growing crowd. Stephan would have to stay late into the night if he hoped for much of Melvin's attention. The bar was getting more crowded by the second.

Melvin was extremely busy, but still managed to stop near us to have short conversations with Stephan every few minutes, and I took this as an encouraging sign. He was definitely giving Stephan special attention, beyond being simply friendly. I finished my first Pom-tini way too fast. "d.a.m.n tiny martini gla.s.ses," I muttered to Stephan, my voice way louder than I'd intended. Yep, I definitely needed to slow it down on the drinking. Stephan laughed at me, finis.h.i.+ng his as well.

Melvin immediately had martini and shot refills in front of us. Okay, we were definitely getting special treatment. He wagged a finger at us. "Your next round will be a new surprise." He winked at Stephan as he walked away. I smiled broadly at Stephan. He smiled back at me. He was the happiest I'd seen him in a while, and it brightened my mood a lot just to see him like that. He'd been majorly hung up on his Ex from a year ago, and it was a relief to see that he was finally moving on. "We better drink these fast. I want to see our next surprise," Stephan teased me.

I laughed and took the shot. Screw slowing down. I wanted our next surprise. Stephan and I unwisely raced to finish the Pom-tini. I pointed at him, laughing, as I finished mine just a second ahead of him. "I win," I said.

With perfect timing, Melvin slid a new shot and martini in front of us just as Stephan set down his gla.s.s. "A Kamikaze, and a Razzle-tini," he told us, having to almost shout now with the horrible rendition of 'Moves Like Jagger' a group of three were belting out from the stage. I thanked him. Stephan did the same, squeezing Melvin's hand just as he was pulling back. It was a surprisingly bold move for Stephan. Melvin blushed and smiled at Stephan as he went back to tend to customers.

I practically beamed at Stephan. "He's soooo interested. You know that, right?" I asked him.

He nodded, looking suddenly shy, but very pleased. "Yeah, I'm finally sure of it."

It wasn't long before the crew started showing up. Brenda showed up first. She was a middle-aged woman, in her mid-forties, I guessed. I saw her less than anyone else on the crew, since she worked in the back galley of the plane, and I worked in the front, but she seemed very nice. I thought we could easily be friends, if we spent a little time together. She walked up to us, smiling.

She had dark brown hair cut in a bob that flattered her bone structure nicely. She had a medium build and was very pretty. I knew she was married with some teenage children, but I didn't know all the details yet. I made a note to ask her more about her family. She seemed like she would be a good mom, with her kind eyes and calm manner.

We greeted her a little more loudly and boisterously than was our habit, and she laughed at us with good humor. "You guys have been at it for awhile, huh?"

Stephan insisted she take his chair, and she did so, thanking him with a dimpled smile. "He's one of the last throwbacks to a true gentleman," she said to me. I could tell she was a.s.suming that he and I were an item, and I didn't correct her.

Within five minutes, Stephan had secured the seat on the other side of me. I giggled at him. "How do you always do that?" I asked, turning in the direction of his new seat.

He arched a brow at me. "You should know better than anyone, Bee. I've been hustling since I was a kid. Talking someone out of a seat at the bar is child's play."

Melissa was the next to show up, already looking around with boredom as she approached us. Probably looking for Captain Peter, I thought.

She was in rare form, wearing a white micro-mini skirt and a clingy pink top that sort of clashed with her dark red hair. The top was so thin that I could tell two things; her b.o.o.bs were fake, and she wasn't wearing a bra.

She couldn't be more than five foot two barefoot, but she was making up for it tonight. Her white, rhinestone-studded stilettos were easily over five inches tall. She handled them well, too, gliding in them as though she wore heels like that every day. For all I knew, she did. She had a heavy layer of makeup on, her lips bright red and her lashes so thick and black they looked like something you'd see on an old-fas.h.i.+oned pin-up model. She was very pretty. What she lacked in taste she more than made up for in sheer good looks.

"Hey guys," she said without smiling. It was as though she didn't want to waste a good smile on us.

"Hey," I said. Brenda and Stephan greeted her. I noticed that Stephan didn't offer her his chair. I knew that she got on his nerves just a bit without him having to say it. She wasn't exactly a hard worker, and she seemed to think she was ent.i.tled to more than other people. Those were two qualities that he and I just had trouble relating to.

The pilots were the next to show. They came in together. I'm not sure I would have recognized either of them out of uniform. I only knew they had arrived when Melissa's personality suddenly got real bubbly. Stephan and I shared a short, pointed look.

We all said our greetings, and by then Melissa had managed to snag the seat next to Brenda. Captain Peter was practically glued to the back of her chair. I tried not to stare. They weren't being subtle. Those two were likely going to end the night together.

My eyes snagged on the ring on the Captain's left hand as he rubbed it all over Melissa's nearly bare back. Ewww, I thought. I hated that. I didn't understand why people got married, and then acted like that. But it certainly knocked my opinion of Melissa down even further. There was no way she had missed the wedding ring on his finger if I had seen it from several feet away. h.e.l.l, she probably felt it on her back, he was rubbing her so hard with it.

I made an easy decision to just try to ignore them for the duration of the evening. They were a major buzz-kill.

I noticed with a little dismay that the first officer, Jeff, had ended up standing by my chair, his body angled towards me. He smiled at me as I noticed him. He waved at the gla.s.ses in front of me. "What're you drinking? It looks like a good time."

I told him, and he stepped closer as I spoke. I moved back a bit. I hated when people tried to casually touch me, and he just seemed like the type to try it.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, after he had downed his own shot, he reached out a hand, touching a strand of my hair. I shrank back just a little. "I love your hair." He was nearly shouting over the rowdy crowd. "It looks so hot when you wear it down."

I turned away from him at that, finis.h.i.+ng my current round of drinks. Yes, it was official. I was drunk. I caught Stephan and Melvin sharing a look, and I knew exactly what it meant. Stephan was trying to tell Melvin to cut off my alcohol.

I glared, leaning closer to him. I pointed a finger at his chest threateningly. "Don't you dare. I barely ever drink, and I really need to relax tonight. This is the first time in days that I've been able to unwind and just forget about Mr. Beautiful."

Stephan had looked ready to argue until that last embarra.s.sing sentence left my mouth. But as I finished, he sputtered out a laugh. "Mr. Beautiful?"

I nodded, and he laughed harder. "Well, he is. James Cavendish is too d.a.m.ned beautiful to be real. He scares the s.h.i.+t outta me," I confided.

Stephan stopped laughing at that. "Why?" he asked seriously.

I shook my head. "Not like that. A different kind of scary. I haven't figured it out. All I know for sure is, I need to stay the h.e.l.l away from Mr. Beautiful." I over-enunciated the last sentence so much that, even drunk, I noticed it.

Stephan's eyes widened as he looked at a spot above and behind me.

"What?" I asked him in a loud, belligerent tone. Yes, I was definitely drunk. "What? Is Mr. Beautiful standing behind me or something?"

Stephan pursed his lips and I suddenly had an awful feeling that I'd hit that one right on the head. I turned my spinning head around and looked up, and up, into bright blue eyes. "h.e.l.lo, Mr. Beautiful," I said in a quieter, but still obviously drunk, voice.

CHAPTER FIVE.

Mr. Persistant I spun almost immediately to glare at Stephan. "Traitor," I said to him, my words slurred.

He threw his hands up, giving me his innocent look. "I didn't give out your number or anything. He asked if we were going out tonight. I just told him where. No harm done."

I mouthed a few choice words at him. I felt a hard cheek press to the hair near my ear and knew it was Mr. Beautiful himself. "Mr. Beautiful, huh?" he whispered in my ear. I knew my whole body was bright red with embarra.s.sment. "I'm going to take that as a compliment, though I have to say, it's a new one."

"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Cavendish," I said stiffly, without turning.

"I told you, call me James. Or Mr. Beautiful, if you prefer. You can save the Mr. Cavendish for when we're in private." It was the second time he'd said that, and I just couldn't tell if he was teasing. Did I even want to know? I wondered. No, I told myself firmly.

I tried to just ignore everyone for awhile after that. Except for Melvin. Him, I tried to flag down to get another drink, but he was ignoring me. Vaguely, I could hear Stephan and James chatting amiably at my back.

James hadn't moved, and he was standing close enough to my back to indicate that he and I were together. He was so close that it made the skin of my back tingle. If I s.h.i.+fted even an inch backward, we'd be touching.

I turned my head slightly and saw that the co-pilot had been forced to move away from me. He was looking between Stephan and James, an odd look on his face. He didn't know what to make of the situation. I didn't really care what he made of it. I was just relieved that he seemed to get the picture that I was clearly not available.

I lurched suddenly to my feet. I had expected to be a little unsteady on my feet, but it was much worse than I'd thought. I had to clutch the bar for several moments to gain my balance.

"Whoa, careful there, b.u.t.tercup," Stephan was saying to me.

I felt a hard arm going around my waist for support, and I knew it wasn't Stephan. "b.u.t.tercup?" James asked him, his voice amused.

I looked at Stephan, who was looking a little sheepish. "It's an old nickname, from when we were kids. Bee will have to tell you the story sometime."

"I look forward to it. Does she drink like this often?" James asked casually, but I thought there was a slight edge to his voice. He was still just talking to Stephan. About me, and in front of me. It was infuriating.

"All the time," I said loudly.

"This is the first time she's had a drink since the month she turned twenty-one," Stephen said quietly. "At least two years ago."

James's mouth was at my ear again. "You remember what I told you about lying to me," he warned softly. "That's two."

He'd said he'd put me over his knee. "He's a kinky b.a.s.t.a.r.d," I thought drunkenly.

Oops, I'd said that out loud. Luckily, only James had heard. He laughed, showing even white teeth. He hadn't taken it as an insult. He nodded at me, making very solid eye contact. He agreed.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I declared loudly.

"I'll help you get there, b.u.t.tercup," James told me. Stephan rose as we moved, as though to help. James waved him down. "I've got her."

And he did. He wrapped my arm around him and took the brunt of my weight as he led me effortlessly through the crowd toward the restrooms.

"Why are you here?" I asked him bluntly.

"Well, I came here because I very much want to f.u.c.k you until neither of us can walk. I want you so bad I can't see straight. But since that won't be happening now, I'm staying to make sure you make it back to your room in one piece."

"Why won't that be happening now?" I asked him. I knew it was a bad question, one that implied that I was disappointed that it wouldn't be happening, but I was just too drunk and curious to care.

He looked at me, brow raised. "I won't touch you while you're impaired. Never. I just don't do that."

"So you give up?" I challenged, but it came out as more of a whine.

He surprised me by kissing the top of my head. "Far from it. I still intend to f.u.c.k you senseless. Just not tonight, b.u.t.tercup. And I'd appreciate it if you could refrain from ever getting yourself into this condition again." His arms and the kiss had been soft and sweet, but his words and his tone were icy.

What a strange man, I thought. How could someone sound so cold while calling me b.u.t.tercup?

I stopped suddenly. We were against the wall now, close to the hallway that led to the restrooms. I turned in his arms, pressing up against him. He sucked in a breath at the sudden contact. I looked into his eyes. He looked back, his eyes hard. "Yes?" he asked me sharply.

"My condition isn't your business, James." I emphasized his name. It was the first time I'd used it.

His gaze was steady. "I intend for it to be my business."

"You don't want to date me, you said," I told him.

He sighed. "It's true. But I want other things. I at least want the chance to talk to you about what I do want."

"So talk," I told him.

"We will talk. When you're sober. And when we have some actual privacy."