by M. L. Young
The Stipulation
Vol. 6
M.L. Young
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Editor: Laura LaTulipe
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances of characters to actual persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. The author, M.L. Young, holds exclusive rights to this work.
Copyright © 2013 by M.L. Young
All rights reserved
The Stipulation Volume Six
Chapter One
Since spring break, my life had been happy and filled with a complete sense of perfection that I never wanted to end. Roman and I were inseparable—whenever he was home from business, we were together. I routinely spent the weekend with him while we rarely left the bed. We were completely in love, and it seemed as though nothing could break that apart and keep us from being with one another.
Months had passed, and my summer classes, which were long and taxing, were finally coming to a very happy end. It was the end of July, the last day actually, and I was about to take my final exams and get my grades so I could move on and have a few weeks of summer vacation before the fall semester crept up on me again. Roman and I had taken a couple weekend trips, mostly to Cape Cod and Seattle, and did everything from fishing to hiking to just staying in bed and enjoying each other’s company.
I stayed in the dorms because not only was my room paid for, but I also didn’t want to leave Jillian alone—not to mention—I didn’t own a car. I didn’t want to rely on Roman for everything, although he did mention the possibility of us moving in together within the next year or so, and that I could likely get a car so I could be more self-sufficient. Jillian ended up staying for summer classes, since she failed two classes in the spring semester and had to take them again immediately to avoid an F grade on her transcripts. We were lucky that our school would allow you to take the class again the next semester and have that grade recorded on your transcripts, so that was what she did.
“I’m so glad we’re almost done with class,” Jillian said as we put our shoes on to get ready for class.
Jillian and I had only one class together—our first of the day—which was nice because we were able to get ready and walk over together. She had to retake this class to avoid a failing grade, and I needed the class for my degree.
“Me, too. Roman is picking me up tonight and we’re leaving tomorrow, just in case you forgot,” I said.
“You’ve been talking about this trip for the past few months, so needless to say, I haven’t forgotten in the slightest,” Jillian replied with a smile.
“Well it isn’t every day you get to go off to Paris with a beautiful man. I mean, who do you know who does that?” I asked.
“Only you, Natty, only you,” Jillian replied.
Jillian finished tying her shoes and got up to grab her backpack and open the door, almost doing it to nudge me along so I wouldn’t mess around any longer. While I couldn’t afford to be late to our final, Jillian definitely couldn’t—she was on the verge of failing yet again with her seventy-two average.
“So how long are you guys going to be gone? Doesn’t he have business in Los Angeles?” Jillian asked as she stood at the door.
“We’ll probably be gone for four days or so, maybe five. Yeah, he has a merger to do in Los Angeles shortly after the trip, but he promised it’d be the last one for a while, so we could spend time together before classes start back up.” I grabbed my backpack and walked out of the door with her.
“I don’t know how you do it. I couldn’t imagine being away from a boyfriend that often, and not knowing when he’ll leave or come back,” Jillian said.
“What can I say? I love the guy,” I said as we got on the elevator and the doors closed.
***
I had plans later that night to go to dinner with Roman and spend the night at his place before our flight tomorrow. His pilot wasn’t available for this trip, because he was having hernia surgery, and for whatever reason, Roman refused to fly on a private jet without him. We had to fly commercial now, which wasn’t so bad considering Roman got us first class, but that meant we were on their schedule and not our own like we would’ve been with the private jet. The only flight we were able to get left at seven in the morning, which was way earlier than either of us wanted, but if we wanted to go to Paris and have this vacation then we needed to deal with it and try and sleep longer on the plane.
Jillian and I both got ready together, with my sporadically packing and trying to get as many cute outfits as I could into my suitcase. Roman had bought me these pink hard shell suitcases for the trip, saying my old and hole-ridden suitcases weren’t going to do any longer. The new suitcases were beautiful, but I still had the problem of being a girl who felt as though she had nothing to wear, even though her suitcase was filling up to the brim.
Jillian had a date tonight—with a sugar daddy—and it was her first ever. Tara and I had coerced her into it, and Jerome eagerly accepted her as I had given up my spot. I went to him about three weeks ago, and he said he knew all along and that he was just waiting for me to come to him, but he wasn’t mad in the slightest. Actually, he said he was ecstatic that Roman and I had reconciled and that I was in a serious relationship with him now because he claimed he wouldn’t have been able to set me up with any other guys anyway. I was so against dating and never had a good one that Jerome said if Roman hadn’t come back he likely would’ve been forced to drop me for that purpose. I was still in contact with him, though, and even helped Jillian when Tara was unable, just so she could be the best sugar baby she could possibly be.
“Well, I guess I better go before Roman gets here. He said that we had dinner plans and we have to get to bed early for our flight, so I suppose I’ll see you when I get back,” I said to Jillian.
“Well, have fun and don’t do anything too crazy. You can e-mail anytime you want to, but don’t call or text me, cause I don’t have an international plan. I’m not with a rich man you know,” Jillian said playfully.
“Oh and by the way, if you’re going to bring a guy here tonight, don’t. I don’t want you having sex on my bed or something,” I said as I gave her a hug.
“Oh shut up. I don’t give it up that easily,” she replied jokingly.
I grabbed my bags, went downstairs and outside with my girly pink suitcases in tow, and waited for Roman to show up and whisk me away. This was shaping up to be the biggest adventure of my life.
***
“We’ll start off with the artichoke dip while we look over the menus,” Roman said to our waitress.
“Great choice. I’ll be back shortly to take your orders,” she replied with a smile before heading to the kitchen.
Roman had decided to take me to a cool little pub that served a little nicer food. The décor had old sports relics and signs, and they claimed to have over a hundred beers in stock, so you could say this was definitely a guy’s place. I liked it though, and it was a little more my speed compared to the fancy places he’d taken me to. Don’t get me wrong, I liked going to those places with him, but sometimes I liked going to normal places. I knew we were going to be dining fancy in Paris anyway, so getting this in beforehand was sort of like a refresher.
“So, are you excited to go to Paris?” Roman asked me with a wide grin.
“Is the Pope a Catholic? Of course I’m excited to go! I’ve been wanting to go to Paris since I was a little girl,” I replied with a smile.
“I knew you would be. I think we’re going to have a very exciting and breathtaking trip. I have a lot planned, and I know you’ll leave this trip with a gigantic smile,” Roman said.
“Well, we will see the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, a couple other museums, some great stores, and even a boat ride down the Seine River,” Roman said.
“Are you two ready to order?” the waitress asked as she interrupted our conversation.
We ordered, with me getting fish while Roman got a burger, and went back to oodling each other and talking about our trip. Every question I had for him resulted in an answer, as if he had no hesitation and didn’t have to think about what I was asking him. He was showing that he had thought about this trip and what we were doing very many times, and had a strict timeline almost of how things would happen and what we’d do. I really didn’t mind, for I didn’t know anyone or anything in Paris, and all I really was concerned about was going to the Eiffel Tower. I think every girl has a dream to be kissed under the Tower by the man they love, and I was going to make sure I made that dream come true.
We waited for five minutes before the waitress brought over the artichoke dip, which was in a word, spectacular. The spinach that was mixed in was excellent and tasted as though it had just been harvested. I didn’t think the food here would be bad, but I never expected it to be this amazing.
“So, do you parents know you’re going with me to Paris?” Roman asked before biting into a piece of his toast and dip.
“Yeah, but they think that you’re going there for work and that your job is paying for the entire trip. They don’t know how we’re actually going or what we’re doing,” I said.
“Still haven’t told them the truth about me?” he asked as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“No, not yet. They’re in Thailand anyway, so I don’t want to give them that kind of bombshell news before they’re back home and somewhere where I can see them and talk to them,” I said.
“Well, you might need to tell them sooner than you think,” Roman said.
“What does that me—“
“Okay you two, here are your meals. For you, a bacon cheeseburger, and for you, the teriyaki glazed salmon with steamed broccoli and carrots,” the waitress said, interrupting my question and giving us our food.
“What does that mean?” I asked as the waitress walked away.
“What does what mean?” he replied.
“What you were talking about,” I said.
“Oh I don’t remember, probably nothing important,” Roman replied before taking a big bite from his juicy and dripping burger.
I seemingly forgot and brushed off what he said earlier and went on to eat my food, which was a little fishy but still good nonetheless. Roman let me have a bite of his burger, which was incredibly better than what I had, and he offered to let me order one, but I declined, saying that I didn’t want to wait around and have him sit here while I slowly ate it. I knew he had some snacks at his place anyway, and I told him I’d just eat some of those when we got back. He shrugged and brushed off my comment, as the waitress brought the bill to us. He seemed to shock her when he handed her his black credit card. It was amazing what people would be taken back by, and I was sure seeing a black card made this waitress wonder who in the hell Roman was and how he had that much money. I thought the same thing when I met him, so I understood.
“Well, are you ready to go?” Roman asked as he signed his name on the check and put his card away.
“You know it,” I replied as I got up and fixed my shorts so they wouldn’t ride up.
Roman grabbed my hand as we exited the restaurant into the glow of the warm orange sky, and got into his car to make our way back to his mansion.
Paris, here we come!
Chapter Two
Roman and I woke up early the next morning, too early in fact, and tried to pull ourselves out of bed as the sun was just barely coming up. I never woke up this early, and every time I did, I felt as though I was being dragged into the depths of hell where all of the evil in the world lurked. Roman didn’t have too hard of a time getting up after he sat up, but me, that was a different story. I let him get ready first, really to just be able to lie there a little longer and not have to actually move in the slightest.
“Come on, Natalie, time to get up,” Roman said as he came out of the bathroom ten minutes later all showered and clean.
“But I don’t want to,” I moaned.
“If we miss this flight then all of our plans will go down the drain for today. Don’t you want to see Paris?” he asked.
“Yes,” I moaned childishly.
“Then get out of bed and get ready so we can be on time,” he said, as if treating me the way he’d treat a five-year-old.
“Fine,” I belted out as I sat up with my frizzy hair flying out in every direction.
I rolled out of his cocoon of a bed and started shuffling my barely moving feet across the floor as I slid into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The heat escaping from the shower permeated the bathroom as I staggered in, hoping that this trip and flight would be worth getting up so early. Deep down, though, I knew it would be all worthwhile.
***
Roman and I got to the airport with only half an hour to spare. Normally that would make me freak out, but he was relaxed, and stated that he had some kind of “fast pass-like” program for the security line and we wouldn’t have to wait in it like all of the other people. As we approached the agent, who was more like a gatekeeper, he looked over our credentials and pass cards to make sure we weren’t just random people trying to sneak our way into this exclusive line. He let us pass, and we casually started walking down the long and empty line, as all of the other normal fliers were far from pleased. I unfortunately looked over and saw the way they looked at us. Some looked in awe and amazement, while others looked rightfully pissed and had to be wondering why we were so important and they weren’t. I kept behind Roman as we put our carry-on luggage on the conveyor belt and traipsed quickly through security.
“I can’t believe we got through so fast,” I said as we came out of the checkpoint and were now in the terminal.
“Yeah, it’s a nice little program that some friends over at Homeland Security started. They don’t let many people in, but I got you in especially for this trip,” Roman said as he grabbed my hand and walked over to the flight board.
He scoped out the digital board, checking for our flight and gate before spotting the info, and scanning the area for which direction we needed to go.
“It looks like it’s this way,” he said with a smile.
“To Paris we go,” I replied as we headed to our flight.
***
“This is amazing,” I said as we sat down in our roomy first class seats located on the left side of the plane.
“Yeah, it’s not as great as the jet, but it’s pretty damn nice if I do say so myself,” Roman said as we both glanced out of my small window and at the men getting ready to direct the airplane out of the gate.
The coach passengers came in shortly after and began their treacherous trudge down the aisles and to their stuffy and stale cabin behind us. They all looked miserable, but that was likely due to the fact that there was one person, as always, holding up the line and unable to get a bag into the overhead bin. That seemed to be a theme with every flight on any airline and to any destination. There was that one person that always bogged up the system and acted as though he or she just emerged from the Amazon and had never seen such a weird contraption as this flying machine.
Thirty minutes passed and the flight attendants were sealing up the plane for departure. One of them, a pleasant older woman, came and took our drink and meal orders. We were going to get both breakfast and lunch, and I chose two meals off the menu that I could actually pronounce. I guess they were getting us ready early for the Parisian meals and French language, for I had never heard of this stuff in all of my years.
“Good morning and welcome to our flight with nonstop service to Paris. My name is Bruce, and I’ll be your captain for today’s fl
ight. It looks as though we should have an easy ride, with no foreseeable turbulence or problems of any kind. I will update you all as the flight progresses, and you can tune into Channel One on your headsets to get periodic updates. Thank you all for flying with us, and we hope you have a great trip. Flight attendants, please prepare for departure.”
Roman held my hand as the plane took off, with me almost needing to bury my head in his shoulder as the landing gear left the runway and started to gracefully float up into the air as my stomach began to flip-flop in fear.
The plane began to settle and straighten out within fifteen minutes, which helped my stomach to calm down as I knew the worst was over. I could now sit back, relax, and try to enjoy the flight and all of the amenities it had to offer.
***
Eight hours later we entered Parisian airspace and flew around the city as the captain gave us an upfront view to all the sights down below. I could vaguely make them out, and couldn’t really take in too much detail, but I was excited and ecstatic nonetheless.
“This is so beautiful,” I said in amazement.
“Isn’t it? I always love coming to Paris, especially this time of year. It’s beautiful—especially at night,” Roman said.
“I’m still not sure that this is all real. Am I really here?” I asked.
“You are indeed, and I’m going to give you the best experience and vacation of your life. I’ll make damn sure that this trip will never be rivaled,” Roman said as he put his hand on my back and rubbed it softly.
I turned to face him and gave him a cute, soft kiss on the lips before returning my gaze to the window as the view of Paris disappeared. We were now declining faster, and I knew the all-important and incredibly scary landing, which was just as bad as the takeoff, was about to come and I wasn’t a happy camper about it. One small misstep and the plane could crash, and I knew that flying and landing something as big as this monstrosity of an airplane couldn’t be an easy feat in any sense of the imagination.