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Well, I’d always been at peace in church and I had a damn fine singing voice for hymns.
The no-swearing thing would definitely become a requirement though. I’d have to trade in my plastic gallon jug for a legit old-fashioned milk can.
I slept fitfully Friday night, certain I would wake on Saturday too sick to fly. It was only the polite thing to do, not contaminating my fellow passengers.
Instead, I woke before my alarm, stretched, and realized I felt absolutely fine.
There was no way I could back out now.
On the bright side, I’d packed the other day. My wardrobe was a mix of fun, flirty, casual clothes and more formal pieces for evening. I would only be there Saturday and Sunday nights, returning Monday, so the trip didn’t require a ton of outfits. Still, I fretted over including one more pair of strappy heels just in case. I only had three pairs, and the other two were already in the suitcase, along with my flats. I was so unprepared for Vegas and had been flip-flopping so much about whether I truly wanted to go that I’d done little research and hadn’t booked any shows. Luckily, the radio station trip included two tickets to see Celine Dion, who I loved, so I had one night’s entertainment all set.
Sunday night, I’d wing it. See what developed. That was kind of what this whole trip was about. Being spontaneous. Letting the winds of fate and change blow me to my destiny. And so on and so forth.
I’d probably end up watching cable in my room and binging on cheap wine from room service.
Once I’d double-checked my suitcase and carry-on one last time, I detoured to the bathroom to put one more light layer of moisturizer on my face and hands, since I’d read planes were extremely dry. This was my first ever flight, and I did not want to meet my future with dry skin.
Oh God, what if I hated flying? I’d probably be a nervous flyer. I tended to be nervous about most new things, part of why I stayed in my comfort zone.
Not today. Today, I was taking a big fat leap.
My phone beeped with a notification. Look at that, the Uber was outside, right on time.
Eeep, I was really doing this. All by myself. First vacation in forever, first solo trip, first flight. Across the country, no less.
I might even be proud of myself later if I didn’t spiral into a panic attack before I even arrived at the airport.
The plus side was that I’d planned ahead. Needed paperwork and information was gathered and at the ready. I breezed through TSA, though I had to lift up my travel-appropriate light sweater and thin shirt underneath when something buzzed around my waist and they needed to verify I wasn’t packing heat. Then I was on my way, my step buoyed, excitement finally beginning to overtake nerves.
Boarding time was upon me, and I was ready. Sin City and I were about to interface hardcore.
I gripped the handle of my carry-on in my fist and walked down the aisle of the plane, searching for my row. Wow, pretty nice seat. I’d heard coach wasn’t much to speak about. Maybe I didn’t have caviar dreams, but I was quite happy with my accommodations so far. Besides, they were free.
Turned out I was near the back. All good there. It seemed as if the plane was nearly full already. I’d been near the back of the line due to an unfortunate mishap with my shoe strap. No matter, I was here now and my seat was right…
There. By the window. But before I could get to it, I would have to climb over a large lumberjack-appearing man in jeans and flannel with a beard long enough to French braid, and a rich-looking guy in a snazzy suit—
Wait a second. I knew that rich-looking guy.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, planting a hand on my ample hip and glaring over Lumberjack’s head at the businessman beside him. One I was quite well acquainted with and did not have fond feelings for.
Especially right now, when he was about to hijack my big solo adventure for reasons unknown. Pfft.
Oliver removed his dark glasses—why he was wearing them on a plane, I didn’t know—and gave me a thin, forbidding smile. “I do believe this is a public, commercial flight. Though God knows why anyone would voluntarily choose to travel this way.”
“Hey,” Lumberjack rumbled in a deep voice that fit him all too well. “He speaks. I asked you how you were before and you just grunted.”
“I’m not on this flight to make friends and influence people.”
I frowned. “That’s just rude. Why are you here again?” Before Oliver could answer, I gave Lumberjack my brightest, friendliest, Crescent Cove hometown smile. “I must ap
ologize for my enemy’s behavior. He doesn’t get out much. I’m doing quite well, myself. How are you, sir?”
The lumberjack actually flushed. “H-hi,” he said, and Oliver made a noise that sounded like disgust, or possibly indigestion at his pre-flight breakfast. “I’m doing good. Well, I mean. Thank you.” He quickly tugged my small bag out of my hand. “Let me tuck that away for you.” He bent over to slide it under the seat in front of him.
Lordy, he was big and broad all over. How did he even manage to wedge himself in that small space?
“Why, thank you. That was very sweet of you. What’s your name?” I held out a hand. “I’m Sage Evans, and I’m twenty-six and an Aquarius. Just had my birthday last week, matter of fact. Truthfully, I’m on the cusp, but I identify more with my Aquarian nature.”
