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“And why not? Is it the someone else?”

“No.” She shook her head, and grabbed my hand, pulling me down a short hall and into her bedroom. She motioned for me to sit at her desk. “I’ll be right back.”

She left and I looked around her room. With its bright yellow walls and Christmas lights strung atop the window, her cramped space was stuffed with boxes of shoes and racks of clothes on one side. Her mattress, propped up by egg-crates, was on the other side.

The wall above her desk was covered in photos, college news-clippings, and handwritten notes. There was one particular phrase that was written repeatedly on multiple pinned post-its:

Fuck you, NYC.

Fuck you, NYT.

And Fuck you, Kimberly.

Ha! It rhymes...

Underneath her handwritten notes were photos of herself. She was smiling in a college newspaper room, laughing at an airfield, and numerous shots of her in an airport.

I picked up one of the airport pictures and noticed it was dated for six years ago. Her hair was twisted into a bun and she was dressed as a gate agent, not a flight attendant. Not only that, but she wasn’t dressed as an Elite Airways gate agent, she was wearing the red and white from Delta Airways in a few shots, and the blue and red from American Airways.


Before I could think about how she’d managed to get hired at three competing airlines within the same few years, I spotted two pictures of us on her wall. Confused, I pulled them down and saw that she’d snapped them while I was sleeping. With her eyes squinted and her black bra slightly exposing her breasts, she was smiling while resting against my chest.

She suddenly returned to the bedroom and shut the door.

“What is this?” I held up the pictures before she could say anything.

“Nothing.” She blushed and walked over, trying to snatch them away from me but I moved them away and pulled her down into my lap so she was facing me.

“Next time a warning would be nice,” I said.

“You’d actually pose for pictures with me?”

“No, but I’ll be sure to take your phone away next time we spend the night somewhere.” I ran my hands against her thighs. “Why can’t you come fly with me this morning?”

“My family is coming into town for that proposal I told you about.”

“So? You hate your family.”

“Yeah, well...I need to meet them at the airport in a couple hours and come clean about everything.”

“What’s everything?”

“It’s a long story.

“Give me the Cliff’s Notes.”

She let out a breath. “They still think I have the same fancy job I had years ago and am doing something with my life. They think I still live on Lexington Avenue, and my mom and sisters are expecting to stay in that apartment, but you know.”

“You were going to tell them all that as soon as they arrived here?”

She nodded. “I made them reservations at a Hilton Hotel. They’ll have to pay for the rooms on their own, but I did try to make sure they wouldn’t have to stay here at my apartment.”

“This is not an apartment.” I rolled my eyes, deciding to hold that discussion for later. “Do you really care about seeing your brother’s proposal in person?”

“No.” She scoffed. “I know right after, him and everyone else will spend the rest of the weekend talking down to me after they find out the truth.”

“Then don’t give it to them. Tell them something came up, but you’ve moved to Park Avenue, at The Madison.” I was officially out of my goddamn mind. “We’ll meet them at the airport, say hello, goodbye, and my doorman will let them inside while we’re flying for the weekend.”

She blinked.

“What, Gillian?”

She didn’t say anything. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Where are we flying?”


“Which airline are we flying with?” she asked.

“None. This will be a private flight.” I felt my cock stiffen in my pants. “Hurry up and get dressed before I fuck you for the rest of the morning and we never make it there.”



New York (JFK)—> London (HTW)

Hours later, I blushed as Jake held me against his side after we made it through security. Both dressed in casual clothes, it felt different walking through the airport without the demands of work.

“Will you be flying the private plane alone?”

“No.” He looked down at me. “We’ll have a relief pilot aboard for midway through the flight and one flight attendant.”

“Why do we need both?”

“So you and me can make up properly over a served lunch and fuck in the clouds.”

“What?” My cheeks reddened again.

“You heard me.” He smirked, leading me toward Gate 24A, where my family’s flight from Boston was set to arrive. He kept me close as we waited in our chairs, shocking me by kissing me in public every few minutes.

It was twenty minutes past arrival time when the flight finally arrived at the gate, and as suspected, my family of first-class-only buyers were the first people off the plane.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Jake, standing up and walking over to my mother.

“Well, hello, Gillian,” she said, pulling me close for a hug. “You look lovely this morning.”