Can't Let Go. Gena Showalter
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The pilot and lead flight attendant stood outside the open door of the cockpit. Dressed in black uniforms trimmed in red, they greeted passengers as they entered the aircraft through first class. The flight attendant ran an appraising eye over J.D., and then flashed him a little sexy smile. Interesting, he thought.
After acknowledging the crew members with a slight dip of his head, J.D. inched his way down the narrow, center aisle. Every few moments the line halted as travelers found their seats or stored the luggage in an overhead compartment. J.D.’s lips turned down at the corners as he studied the cramped, noisy cabin and waited.
Expelling a hot puff of air, the young man wished that this flight was over and he was home. If he had his way, things would soon be very different. There were better ways to enjoy a few hours after clinching a big deal. Ways such as shooting hoops with his buddies followed by two or three rounds of drinks at his favorite sports bar offered a much more pleasing alternative.
Finally, to J.D.’s relief, the line began to move again. Slowly creeping along the aisle, he considered and rejected several alternative modes of transportation. The train, a bus or even a car were safer, but all were much too slow. Deals that he normally concluded in hours would turn into days, maybe even weeks. Although he loathed to admit it, flying remained the most efficient and quickest way to travel and do business.
J.D. had considered a train trip home. It would have been nice but his new client, Amir Jonson, kept stirring up all kinds of problems at home. Now he needed to get back as quickly as possible to perform damage control. So J.D. had to fly.
Glancing at his boarding pass, J.D. discovered the location of his seat. Oh, man! Obviously, he had had too much on his mind when he’d booked this trip. He was stuck in the middle seat, squeezed like a melon between two equally uncomfortable travelers.
J.D. found his seat and stored his laptop bag in the overhead compartment. “Excuse me.” He pointed at the empty space between two occupied seats. “I’m right here.”
Nodding, a rotund woman in a pink silk pantsuit rose and shifted her bulk into the aisle, blocking others who waited impatiently for J.D. to move out of the way. He stuffed his large frame into the tiny seat and fumbled for his seat belt. Conscious of their limited space and to prevent accidentally bumping into his seatmates, J.D. pulled his arms tight against his body after he snapped his seat belt in place. Uncomfortable, he shifted in his seat. An older man snored softly, open mouthed. J.D. shut one eye and grimaced, rubbing his nose in an attempt to dislodge the stale odor of beer.
Was it possible for him to switch his seat to something more comfortable? His eyes darted around the cabin. No. The plane was filling to capacity. Shutting his eyes, J.D. decided sleep represented the best form of escape.
A howl of outrage shattered the quiet murmurings of the plane’s cabin. J.D.’s eyes flew open. Glancing behind him, J.D. focused on a baby several rows back.
In a fit of rage, the red-faced infant shrieked. Within seconds, his cries turned into screams. Frantic, the boy’s mother tried to soothe him, rocking the little one back and forth, offering comforting words.
J.D. flinched away from the baby’s demanding tones. The aircraft hadn’t got off the ground and he was already in plane hell.
The infant’s mother groped inside her bag, produced a bottle and shoved it into the baby’s mouth. Blissful silence followed.
Across the aisle J.D. noticed a woman rocking back and forth. Her soft murmurings were almost musical as they increased in volume. His heart slammed against his chest. This was the Asian woman from the boarding area. The chanting became more insistent and demanding. Praying for a quick and quieter flight, he tried to tune the woman out.
A blond flight attendant walked past the woman several times. Each time, the attendant’s gaze swept over the tiny Asian and then focused on J.D. with a question in her eyes. After her third trip, the flight attendant stopped and leaned near the woman. “Ma’am.” She waited. “Ma’am,” she said louder. “Are you all right?”
The chanter’s head lifted slowly. She stared blankly through almond-shaped eyes at the blond woman dressed in a black-and-red uniform. The tiny woman blinked several times as if she were coming out of a fog and needed to clear her vision. “Yes.”
“If you’re fine, then I must ask you to stop. You’re disturbing the other passengers,” she explained in a quieter tone.
Blissful silence followed and J.D. let out a thankful sigh of relief. He laid his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he felt a gentle touch on his hand.
“Excuse me, sir?”
He opened his eyes to find the flight attendant leaning over his seatmate, watching him with concerned blue eyes. “Yes?”
“Is something wrong?” her soothing voice probed.
“No. I’m fine,” he answered, darting a quick gaze at the Asian lady.
She smiled reassuringly at him. “I couldn’t help noticing how crowded it is. We have a seat available in first class. Would you like it?”
Yes! J.D. yelled silently. He quickly rose and climbed over the woman in the aisle seat. Grabbing his laptop, J.D. followed the attendant up the aisle and to the front of the plane. He glanced at her badge, noting her name.
“Here you are.” Smiling, she waved a hand at a steel grey leather chair that looked twice the width of his seat in coach.
“Katie, I really appreciate this.”
“I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable here,” she answered before returning to her work.
“Thank you.” He sank into the plush seat, stretched his legs in front of him and sighed. This was so much better than being sandwiched between two people.
J.D. glanced at the person sitting next to the window. Surprise, surprise. The woman who’d tried to help the chanting woman sat next to him.
Her complexion was the color of caffe latte, with skin that looked so soft that he had to fight to keep from running a finger across her cheek. Auburn curls framed her features. High cheek bones and full, sensual lips brushed with plum lipstick were framed by a delicate oval-shaped face. Long, thick auburn lashes showcased her beautiful eyes. Slowly her eyes opened and focused on him. J.D. caught his breath.
Gray. Her eyes were the most delicate shade of gray he’d ever seen.
This woman made up one gorgeous package. Pleased with what he saw, he smiled back at her.
Shifting into a more upright sitting position, she ran a hand through her hair. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he replied.
She stretched out her right hand. “I’m Shae.”
He took the hand that she offered. When he looked down at their linked hands, he found his nearly swallowed hers. “James. Everyone calls me J.D.”