First Class to New York

BOOK: First Class to New York
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First Class to New York
by AJ Harmon

 

 

http://www.firstclassnovels.com

 

 

 

 

First Kindle Edition,
November 2012

 

Copyright 2012 by
ABCs Legacy, LLC

 

 

 

All rights reserved.
This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without
written permission from the author.

Table of Contents

Chapter
1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

 

1
.

Janie almost tripped over her large suitcase trying to get
it onto the curb. She was much later than she had intended to be. Damn traffic!
Her flight was listed as departing on time and she still had to check this
pain-in-the-butt suitcase and get through security and to the gate, which was
probably all the way at the end of the longest terminal, knowing her luck. The
one good thing going for her was that she had decided that for once in her life
she was going to fly first class, so maybe she would get through the lines
quicker. That had to be a perk right? Shorter lines? Well, she hoped so as she
hurriedly walked across the road and through the giant revolving doors.

There was just one elderly couple ahead of her in the first
class line, so Janie let out a deep breath and tried to relax her tense
shoulders. Yes, she should make it to the gate in time. The ticket agent caught
her eye and smiled brightly. “May I help you?” she asked.

Janie moved to the counter and placed her purse on top,
rummaging through it to find her I.D. “Good Morning, I’m Janie Anderson.
6:35a.m. flight to New York.” Janie handed her drivers’ license to the pleasant
young woman standing before her, and in just a second or two, her boarding pass
was being printed and a tall man appeared out of nowhere and was hefting her
suitcase onto the scale.

“Thank you,” Janie mumbled, wondering where he had come
from.

“Pleasure, Ma’am,” he smiled back.

“Any other luggage you would like to check today Ms.
Anderson?” said the ticket agent, snapping Janie out of her thoughts.

“No…..that’s it. Just one bag.”

The agent handed Janie her boarding pass and the stub for
her checked bag along with a small brochure for the First Class Lounge to which
she now had entrance  for the 30 minutes before her flight was due to take
off.  “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome,” came the reply. “Have a good trip.”

Janie grabbed her purse off the counter and slung it over
her shoulder. She made her way out of the ticketing area and around the corner
towards the security gates. She had always wanted to fly First Class, to see
how the other half lived, so to speak. She had flown many, many times but she
and Robert had never had the money to fly anything but coach.

Robert. Robert. Robert never even
wanted
to fly first
class – he was perfectly happy in coach. He was happy not flying at all if
truth be told. That was one of the “disagreements” that had endured during
their 23 year marriage. Oh they were happy, but Robert liked to stay home and
Janie wanted to see the world! But Robert, and lack of money, placed a huge
hurdle in front of her.
He would be flippin’ mad about this
, Janie
thought. Buying a first class ticket was just a monumental waste of money in
his mind. ‘There couldn’t be anything
that
much better about those few
seats at the front of the plane to make it cost
that
much more,’ was
always his response to Janie when she asked for the umpteenth time to try it
just once.

Janie smiled as she thought of him.
If that was the worst
of the disagreements in 23 years of marriage, then it was a pretty good run
,
she thought to herself. And, as if on cue, she glanced down at her left hand
where her wedding and engagement rings used to be and looked at her empty
finger. Even after a year it was weird to not see the gold bands and shiny
diamond there.

“OH! Excuse me!” yelped Janie.
Damn it!
She should
watch where she was going. Having been so focused on her hand, she had walked
right into the back of the person in front of her in the security line. Stepping
backwards, she apologized again. “I’m really sorry.”

Janie was talking to the back of a dark grey suit, with a
smidge of white shirt collar showing through some very dark hair, not long
hair, but in need of a trim. The jacket started to turn and Janie could see a
profile come into view: long eyelashes, average sized nose and a strong jaw
line. Janie took in a breath and then came the smell! He smelled divine. Dark
blue eyes focused on her and Janie slowly released her breath as he smiled. “No
problem,” he said. “Are you okay?” He smiled again. Straight, white teeth and
perfectly proportioned lips finished the face. Wow!

“Yes, thank you.” Janie managed to get the words out. And
then he turned back and strode to the first of the many TSA agents.

*****

She stood in the women’s restroom, her reflection staring
back. Janie had managed to get through the security gate without another
embarrassing incident quite quickly, thanks to her first class ticket. And here
she stood wondering what had happened back there. Robert had passed away 13
months ago and not for one second had Janie even looked at another man, let
alone found one to be positively dreamy looking.

She closed her eyes briefly, frowning, memories of the trips
back and forth to doctors and hospitals and clinics and labs flashed through
her mind. Almost 11 months to the day after Robert had been diagnosed with
cancer he had fallen asleep one night and not woken up. The prognosis from the
very beginning had been grim, but even so, Janie had hoped…wished…desperately prayed
for a miracle that didn’t come.

And now here she was, standing in an airport restroom
thinking of a suit jacket and dark hair. Guilt? She didn’t think so. Her
friends had told her that forty-two years old was way too young to be out of
the game. Even her sons had told her they wanted her to find someone special to
spend the rest of her life with. No, not guilt. But it was something. She just
couldn’t put her finger on what.

Janie shook her head and brought her thoughts back to the
present. She was flushed. Not because of
him,
but because she was hot.
It
must be 80 degrees in here
, she thought and stripped off her V-neck
sweater. Dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, she wasn’t sure she was
appropriately attired for first class, but it was April and not very warm yet
in Portland and the weather app on her phone had said it wasn’t overly warm in
New York either. Plus, she wanted to be comfortable for the 6-hour flight. She
was clean and presentable and ready for the two-week adventure she had been
planning since she was 16 years old. Janie pushed her hair behind her ears and
headed out of the bathroom in search of the lounge.

*****

 

Opening the door Janie could see red carpet and leather
armchairs and a clear view of the runway. It didn’t look that fabulous upon
first glance. She stepped through the doorway, almost feeling like an intruder,
and stopped just inside the door. It swung behind her and she started to take another
step, the door catching her purse. She twisted and pulled the straps, freeing
the offending bag and turned, taking a step forward, and was met with a
shivering sensation of cold and wet.
ARGH!!!

Janie whipped her head in the direction her feet were headed
and found herself 6 inches from the dark grey suit. His hand was against her
breasts holding a now empty cup, the contents being absorbed into her t-shirt.

“I. AM. SO. SORRY!” dark grey suit sputtered out.

Shit! I am now a wet t-shirt contest joke,
thought
Janie.

The dark grey suit finally moved his hand away and produced
a clean, white handkerchief. “You weren’t there and then you were….” He sounded
perplexed, embarrassed, and Janie watched his brow wrinkle. “Really, really
sorry.”

Janie accepted the offer of his handkerchief and dabbed at
her shirt. Fortunately, her bra was covering any embarrassing bits, but her
shirt was clinging to the skin exposed above it.

“Well, I guess I’m not hot anymore,” Janie muttered under
her breath. The dark grey suit cleared his throat and Janie looked up.

“No, you’re definitely hot.” One corner of his mouth twitched
upwards and there was that perfect mouth again.

Janie blushed beet red and looked down at her sopping wet
shirt again. “Is there a bathroom in here?”

“Umm…..yes. Over there.” The dark grey suit pointed Janie in
the right direction and she scurried away as quickly as she could.

*****

In a restroom once again, Janie immediately noticed the
difference between this one and the one in the “regular” part of the airport.
This bathroom had granite countertops and proper towels to dry hands on, and a make-up
table complete with lights and lotions.
Nice!
she thought. Her attention
was drawn back to the problem at hand – her wet t-shirt!
UGH!
Stripping
it off over her head, she used the back to try and dry her clammy skin. Janie
pulled out her v-neck sweater and put it on, straightening it so the argyle
stripes were in the right place. The sweater was soft and comfortable, but the
V plunged down much lower than she would ever wear without a shirt underneath. “Oh
well, what other choice do I have?”
Janie said out loud. The tops of her
breasts stared at her in the mirror. They were pink, a reaction to the ice
water. They matched her cheeks, still flushed from the comment made by the dark
grey suit. “He’s nuts!” she said. No way in hell did anyone think she was hot!
Forty-two years old, mother of two twenty year old boys and chubby; not fat,
but not the size 6 she remembered before her boys were born. Yes, she might
have been considered hot then, but definitely not now. Janie smirked into the
mirror and shook her head.
Yeah, he’s nuts, or blind!

Making her way to the gate, Janie felt incredibly
self-conscious about her sweater and cleavage exposure. 
Just keep your head
down and get on the plane
, she told herself. Again feeling grateful for her
first class ticket, she boarded the plane first and sat down in her comfortably
wide leather window seat and shoved her purse under her leg. Locating the
seatbelt under the pillow and blanket, the metal ends clinked as she clasped
them together and she pulled the belt tight and leaned back closing her eyes
and took a deep breath. She could hear the other passengers around her, finding
their seats and stowing luggage in the overhead bins. The pleasant voice of the
flight attendant that welcomed her aboard filled the small cabin, offering help
and drinks.
Yes, first class is indeed worth it
, she thought. Taking
deep breaths she felt herself calming and the tension in her shoulders
beginning to relax. Another deep breath and…………that smell! Janie’s eyes flashed
open and she was looking at a silver belt buckle, attached to a black belt,
threaded through dark grey pants hanging on slim hips right in front of her
eyes. Her mouth opened and her eyes were transfixed on that belt buckle. It
moved! It was turning and the body it was attached to stepped closer and twisted
to sit in the vacant seat next to her.

“Well, um, this is, well, hello.”

Janie looked up to see dark blue eyes. He was grinning,
almost laughing, well, trying not to laugh. How awkward!

“Hello,” Janie squeaked and turned to look out of the window
at the myriad of activity going on outside the aircraft.

Shit! Shit! Shit!
Janie was mortified, wishing a
giant hole would appear so that she just crawl in and disappear.
How on
earth could this be happening to me?

The flight attendant’s voice came over the speaker. The door
was closing, cell phones needed to be turned off and seats and trays needed to
be in their upright position. Done, done and done. There wasn’t anything for
Janie to do except avoid eye contact at all costs with dark grey suit! The
flight attendant appeared and asked for his glass. The dark grey suit handed it
to her and Janie’s eyes were drawn sideways to his hand - long strong fingers
with manicured nails. No ring.
Hmmmm. No ring
.

Janie looked back out of the window and felt the jolt of the
aircraft backing away from the terminal gate.
Why do I care if he has a ring
or not? I don’t. Stop being ridiculous.

BOOK: First Class to New York
10.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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