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The flight attendant is pushing a glass of clear liquid into his hand before I can absorb what he just said.
First class definitely comes with perks.
“Can I get you anything?” She looks me over trying to hide the smirk that’s tugging at her lips.
One dose of self-esteem with a chaser of courage, please.
I wish that were on the drink menu.
“She’ll take one of these,” West says.
“I don’t day drink.” I glance in his direction again.
“You’re fucking kidding me.” He lets out a husky laugh. “You were sober when you got dressed this morning?”
I look down at the tight white tank top, bright pink tutu and white high heels I’m wearing.
Thank God I tucked the tiara that was on my head back into my bag after my friends took their seats.
“I’m not the only one dressed like this.” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder. “There are two other women on this flight dressed just like me.”
The plan we hatched a week ago seemed sane at the time.
Our mutual friend, Kendra, is set to marry her fiancé in less than a month. Since we’re all bridesmaids, we thought it would be fun to plan a one-night-only bachelorette party.
Unfortunately, the only night our schedules synced up was tonight.
We told the bride-to-be to meet us at the airport in Vegas since her flight from Atlanta lands thirty minutes before our flight. She has no idea that we’ll all be dressed in the same over-the-top outfit she wore in the pictures she posted to social media to announce her engagement.
That part of the plan was not my idea. I was outvoted. Twice.
“I don’t care about them.” He leans so close to me that his lips almost touch mine. “Something tells me that you’re the one who is unforgettable.”
How in the hell is this happening? This handsome stranger is flirting with me while I’m dressed like I’m about to hit up a Halloween party.
“Do you want a vodka or not, Miss?” The flight attendant interrupts the moment with her snippy tone and unwelcome question.
West doesn’t break our gaze as he polishes off his drink in one swallow. “Bring this angel a glass of vodka and a glass of orange juice. She’d like both.”
I’d like neither, but I’m too stunned to form any words. Angel ? Did he just call me an angel?
My gaze drifts to the flight attendant a
s she takes his empty glass and then steps toward the galley. When she disappears from view I turn and lock eyes with West again. “I was serious when I said I don’t drink during the day.”
“You’re headed to Sin City.” He glances briefly out the window next to him at the blue sky and wispy clouds. “You’re missing out on half the fun if you don’t drink before the sun sets.”
I attempt to smooth down the tulle of my skirt, but it’s useless. It’s just my luck to meet the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on when I’m wearing this getup. Why can’t I cross paths with a man like this when I’m tucked into one of the tailored suits or dresses that are waiting for me back in my closet in Manhattan?
I feel a sudden need to explain my current wardrobe choice to him. “I don’t usually dress like this. I’m meeting someone at the airport and this is part of the surprise.”
He studies me, his gaze focused on my face. “The other two women you mentioned are in on this?”
I nod, feeling a spark of relief that he’s seeing a glimpse of who I really am. I shouldn’t care what he thinks of me, but I don’t want him walking off this airplane with the impression that I’m a woman who parties non-stop in Vegas.
“That’s one lucky bastard you’re meeting,” he says smoothly with a lift of his brow.
The flight attendant appears again with two glasses in her hands. She places them both down on the wide armrest between West and me.
