Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“You’ll see me tomorrow.”
Since finding out that her liver is failing, I’ve started to look for jobs at home. I took the flight attendant job after her transplant because the schedule allowed me to do quick trips, never being gone for more than a night or two, and our neighbor—a sweet elderly woman, who is also a nurse—could check on her while I was away.
But now, with her time limited and her health declining, I don’t want to be gone overnight. I’ve applied to several local jobs, including a few upscale bars and clubs, and my hope is to get one and then go back to school to finish my degree.
When I get to the airport, there’s a bunch of chatter, and when I ask Ericka—a colleague and fellow flight attendant—what’s going on, she shocks me when she says, “Dale was found dead late last night. Apparently, the guilt from all his infidelity caught up with him, and he killed himself.”
“What?” I gasp. “How do you know that?”
“His wife found an apology letter.”
“That’s insane,” I say. “He didn’t seem like the type who would feel any remorse for his behavior.”
“I guess it just goes to show you that we never truly know what’s going on in other people’s heads.” Ericka shrugs.
I think about Dominick promising that he would handle it.
There’s no way he had a hand in this, right?
It’s just a coincidence. He said he would handle it, and then Dale killed himself. There’s no way Dominick murdered a man and then made it look like he’d committed suicide. He’s a businessman, not the head of some criminal organization.
I shake myself from my crazy thoughts. I seriously need to stop watching those true crime documentaries when I can’t sleep at night.
“I guess so,” I agree.
We go about prepping the flight to the Dominican Republic. Since it’s only an hour-long flight, we won’t have to serve food, aside from snacks.
“A few of us are going to head to the beach when we get there,” Ericka says as we walk to the galley to get situated. “Want to join?”
“I’m not sure,” I tell her. “I’m feeling a bit under the weather. Can I let you know?”
“Of course. Are you good to work?”
“Yeah,” I say, backtracking. “It’s more mental.”
She nods. “I get it. Dale was a major dickhead, but knowing he’s dead is messing with my head too. And I know he was constantly trying to hit on you. If you need to talk …”
“I’m good,” I promise. “I think I just need some time to wrap my head around it.”
Since I’ll be working in business class, I grab the clipboard with the list of passengers and scan it, looking for a certain name. The chart is done by row and seat number, and after several rows, when I don’t see his name, I tell myself it’s for the best. And then in the last row in business class is Dominick Antonov.
Holy shit. He’s on my flight.
The passengers start to walk on board, and I stay busy, helping them with their luggage. I can feel Dominick’s presence, but I don’t give him any attention, unsure how I feel about what’s going to happen once we get off this plane.
In theory, the idea of spending the night with this man sounded great, but the truth is, I’ve never done this before. I’ve always been a relationship type of woman.
After the other attendants and I do the final cabin check, the pilot announces that we’ll be taking off shortly, and we have a seat in the jump seats for takeoff.
Where I’m sitting, I have the perfect view of Dominick, who is staring at me. His gray eyes are filled with lust, and the way he’s eye-fucking me has my thighs clenching in need. If I could orgasm from a look alone, I’d be damn close to screaming his name in pleasure. And if he can cause all this from just a look, I can’t even imagine what he might do in the bedroom when he could actually touch me.
Once the plane is in the air, I stand and start to make my rounds, asking everyone what they’d like to drink. It takes a while before I get to Dominick, but when I do, instead of asking him, I bring him an old-fashioned and set it on his armrest. I’ve noticed that every time he flies, he never has anybody next to him, and when I double-check, I see that he paid for two seats.
“Thank you,” he says, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes locked on me. “I didn’t see the pilot on this flight. Did he finally heed my warning?”
At his words, my heart stills and then kicks into overdrive. I was worried that he’d had something to do with Dale’s death, but if he’s asking about Dale, that means he doesn’t know what happened, right?