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Making his way down the tightly packed flight, Bryce scanned the passengers. There was no sign of Vivian. It was slow going moving down the plane as people in front of him stopped to stuff their luggage into the overhead lockers, before taking their respective seats. Bryce checked his boarding pass, which read row 24.
Vivian could be in any seat beyond that all the way to the back of the plane. People were still banked behind him when Bryce finally reached his seat. With only minutes before takeoff he didn’t have time to go and check the rest of the passengers. The hard edge of a small wheel-on suitcase digging into his right calf muscle informed Bryce as to how eager the passenger behind him was to get to their own assigned seat.
He ignored his ill-mannered fellow traveler, and shuffled across to the middle seat, where he sat down. Some people weren’t good flyers, while others were just rude asses. Starting a fight on a packed airplane was not on Bryce’s bucket list, nor was meeting an air marshal and leaving the plane in handcuffs.
His thoughts were focused on Vivian. Had she possibly seen him get onboard? And if so, then perhaps when the flight finally took off and they levelled out, she might be intrigued enough to come and speak to him. To give him the opportunity to explain the misunderstanding which Jordan’s actions had caused.
Who knows, the way my luck is running, she may just decide to come and tear shreds off me while the whole plane watches.
He pulled Vivian’s note out of his jacket, read it, then stuffed it into the seat pocket in front of him. It might be better that she hadn’t seen him. He could just picture the headline inLeisure Linetomorrow.
Resort reviewer rips Royal a new one on packed budget airline flight.
Scratch that, he would stay in his seat until after they landed in New York, then wait at the arrivals gate for Vivian to leave the flight. A public slanging match wouldn’t be the best way for him to cement his future appointment as CEO of Royal Resorts USA.
A small boy suddenly appeared at the end of the row, accompanied by a flight attendant. There was a red lanyard around the boy’s neck, and a tag which read ‘Unaccompanied Minor.’ He didn’t meet Bryce’s eyes as he took the empty aisle seat next to him.
“Now Jonathan, I just want to check that you know how to put your seatbelt on,” said the flight attendant.
Bryce bit down on his bottom lip as he caught sight of Jonathan’s eye roll.
“Yes, thank you I can manage.” The boy stuffed an iPad into his seat pocket, then proceeded to make a grand display of his seatbelt wrangling abilities.
“That’s terrific. I will be back to check on you after we have taken off.”
The attendant’s gaze settled on Bryce. He did a similar thing to what the ticket agent had done. A brief looking up and down, checking and clearly deciding if Bryce was trust worthy enough to be seated next to the young boy.
It was an odd experience. He might be from a world where strangers judged each other based on appearance, but that was always about the cut of their clothing or the quality of their shoes. This was about him as a person.
Bryce dipped a hand inside his jacket, which he’d forgotten to take off, and pulled out his business card. He handed it to the flight attendant, whose name tag readWilliam.
“My contact details if you need them.”
William looked at the card, then back to Bryce. He was about to open his mouth, when Bryce answered the obvious question. “Last minute change of plans. My jet is on the tarmac at Galveston, and this was the first flight I could find which would get me back to New York in a hurry.”
A pair of bright blue eyes appeared in his line of vision. “Do you really have your own plane?”
“I do, Jonathan, and it’s a beauty,” replied Bryce.
His card and easy manner with the boy, seemed to finally settle things for the flight attendant. Bryce tugged his jacket off and settled it on his lap. William gave atskof disapproval and held out his hand. “That looks Italian and superbly hand crafted. It would be an honor to hang it up for you, Mister Royal.”
“Thank you.”
* * *
Vivian clicked her seatbelt closed, then snuggled down in her seat. The second the safety demonstration ended, her headphones went over her ears and her thumb hit play. She had a long list of downloaded podcasts to get through.
Food was her refuge. Food porn podcasts had got her through the early days following Pete’s final betrayal. She sensed her battered ego and wounded heart would need a lot more in order to get over Bryce, but at least a hearty serve of recipes would help see her through this flight. “The pasta and cheese podcast, here I come.”
* * *
Bryce unclipped his seatbelt and squeezed out of the row. Food service was yet to commence, and the aisle was clear. Now was the perfect time to do a quick trip to the back of the plane and look for Vivian. Anyone who happened to see him would naturally assume he was headed for the bathrooms.
He took his time, slowly checking the seated passengers, searching from side to side.
Where are you?
Reaching the last row of seats, he stopped, then turned around. Had he missed her? She hadn’t been in any of the forward rows, he’d made a point of checking as he boarded. The only way she could be on this flight and for him to have missed her was if Vivian had somehow boarded after him and taken up an empty seat he hadn’t spotted. A sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach.
