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With a sigh, she shook her head. “We were never meant to be.”
“No,” he said.
There it was again, and this time, he didn’t even have to ask her why they hadn’t worked. This time, she’d just volunteered the information. It seemed to be a theme where his exes were concerned.
“Well, it’s getting late and I should get back home,” he said. “But thanks for taking the time to talk to me.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Keep searching,” he said. “If there is a child out there that I helped create, I’m going to find him or her.”
“Good luck, Blake. I wish you nothing but the best.”
Turning, he walked out of the classroom and down the hall of the elementary school he’d attended as a child. Two more women, and if they weren’t the ones, he didn’t know what he would do.
Somewhere out there was his son or daughter and he intended to find them.
CHAPTER 4
Cristina made her way between the airplane seats with a plastic bag, picking up trash. Only another hour and they would land. Then she had another flight back to Dallas where she would make the commute to North Richland Hills.
They hit some turbulence and she grabbed onto the back of a seat.
“I need another martini,” the man in seat 34A said.
He wasn’t going to like her response. Already she’d served him two and that was the limit. Leaning down, she tried to keep her voice low.
“I’m sorry, sir, airline regulations prohibit me from serving a passenger more than two alcoholic drinks per flight.”
It was true, but that didn’t mean he was going to like it.
“I don’t give a shit about regulations. I want another drink,” he said. “This flight is rough and I’m not enjoying it. You could make it better by giving me a drink or…”
Like the alcohol would make him feel better. There would not be an or.
“Sir, I’ll get you a Coke,” she said, smiling, doing her best to make him a happy passenger knowing his kind were never satisfied.
“Bitch,” she heard him say as she walked away. Today, she didn’t need this crap.
When she got to the back, she told the other stewardess. “That man in 34A just called me a bitch because I wouldn’t serve him a third drink.”
Betty glanced at her. “And we’re going to do this until we reach retirement age?”
She smiled. “No, my art is going to make me millions and I can just sit back and paint and think about these days and laugh at the absurdity of them.”
“I’ll take him a Coke and give him my best stewardess personality,” Betty said.
“Thank you,” Cristina said as she plopped into her seat.
Not long after Wyatt was born, before she came back to work, she’d had a will drawn up because of her fear of dying in an airplane crash. Yes, this was her job. It paid the bills, but only until she sold her paintings. Though since Wyatt had been born, she’d had very little time to spend doing what she loved.
Days like today made her long for her paintings to sell and to leave behind the glamorous world of airlines.
When Betty returned, she shook her head. “That man is a complete asshole. One more thing and I will radio up ahead and have security meet us at the gate. He promised me that he’s going to get us both fired.”
Cristina laughed. “I’ll file a report on him, just in case he tries.”
“Oh, hell no,” Betty said. “I’m going to tell the captain as soon as we land.”
