That bastard. I really should have tossed that hideous vase his sister bought me on his face.
I clutch the handle of my luggage tightly and turn my face away from the guys in front of me. You won’t cry, Georgia. He doesn’t deserve any of your tears. It was his loss; he couldn’t handle your sensual, busty body, and your divine curves. I’ll go on and show him that my trip to New York, even if I’m all alone, will be great. I don’t need him to be happy. I’ll show the world that I need no man to be a satisfied woman, dammit!
“Excuse me, miss? Is there something I can do for you?” Her sweet voice and the elegant way she addressed me caught me off guard. I stand there, gawping at her, unable to make a move other than look around me.
“Sorry, you mean me?” I reply.
“Of course. There’s no else in the line.”
The couples from before have left already and I’m the only one around, lost in my thoughts of self-pity. When I start to realize what’s going on, I notice the nice woman in front of me smiling at me full of empathy. Gosh, did she hear my speech about my boyfriend cheating on me?
Well, it’s not like I was hiding it or any way.
“I’m so sorry for that. I was lost in my thoughts. Yeah, so I would like to cancel a ticket for New York.”
“Of course. I would like to warn you, though, that our company doesn’t refund the full price of the tickets purchased online or by any other format. Are you sure you’d like me to cancel it for you?” she says.
I nod hastily. Honestly, if I had opened my mouth just then, the story of my miserable life would pour out roaring. Instead, I occupy myself with observing the woman in front of me and the crowds moving around the airport. She has started the process of deleting the last part connecting me to Ray, and as always, she pushes random keys with a faucet of polite apathy on her face.
As far as I’m concerned, she might be hating her life right now or hating me for making her work more during her shift. I don’t know, and truth be told, I don’t really care.
I check everywhere around me while waiting.
People come and people go. A young woman is hugging a young man in the distance, tears running down her face; a family gets reunited when the mother returns from servicing in the army; a man is walking his dog carrying one of the little cages made for the trip. The world keeps going on around me, and I’m still here, stuck in the past, waiting for a miracle to happen.
Well, the only thing life has taught me up to now is that no matter how hard you try, there will always be something messing with you. For me, that something was 6 feet tall, handsome guy that thinks too much of himself. Screw him.
Enough of destiny and love and trusting the wrong people. It’s my time to shine now and I’ll do it solo.
“Thank you for your patience,” the young woman behind the booth says. “The ticket has been canceled and the refund of the booking fee has been sent to your account. I hope you have a great trip,” she says as she’s passing my credit card back to me.
Her grin is contagious and I end up smiling at her even though inside me I want to murder the next man that will pass my way. Hey, now I get it. I would have done for an excellent booth girl after all.
As I turn to walk away from her, I stumble onto a man rushing to get to the airline booth. “Excuse me,” he mumbles but doesn’t stop.
It takes me a moment to regain my balance. It’s then that I catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re green, deep-set, and somehow...dark. It’s like the light has been drained away from them and all that has remained is a faded color. However, they are no less stunning. And that’s without checking out the rest of his body.
Tall, yet still smaller than Ray, with dark hair and a fit body. He’s wearing a winter coat with a pair of dark brown pants and a vest with a crème buttoned shirt below. He’s one of the best-looking men I’ve ever seen.
“I’d like a ticket to New York,” he says to the booth lady.
“Yes, of course. You’re really lucky. A ticket has just been made available,” she smiles at him, briefly making an eye contact with me.
Only then I realize that I still haven’t walked away from the line in front of the booth. Instead, I’ve frozen staring at the strange man with the lonely eyes and the woman helping him. Ashamed, I rush towards the security control to catch my flight. I have another one and half hour before embarking starts, which is plenty of time to start my long streak of photos.
Even though taking photos was his job.
I put my cellphone back in my pocket. Maybe it’s not such a good idea after all.
***
For once, my luck seems to finally turn. The seats on the plane are comfortable, there are no babies in the cabin, and the stewardesses are really kind and cute. I love their style; the tight buds, the elegant scarves tied around their necks, the pencil skirts highlighting their silhouettes. There are only a handful of jobs that seem to entail a sense of style with their professional etiquette better than being an air hostess.
How do I know? Well, I’m a fashion writer. Essentially, my job is to dress good and notice if the others around me dress well too. It’s tough, tougher than many people realize, but I love it. Fashion always helped me cope with many things regarding my life. And now, flying to New York, the capital of street fashion of the Earth it’s sure to make me feel better, Ray with me or not.
There’s almost time for the take off when I realize that the seat next to me is still empty. I’m sitting by the window, and there’s another man in the seat by the aisle, but the one separating us is still empty. I suppose it’s the one I just canceled. Maybe the man from before decided to travel with the next flight. Or maybe I was graced with more personal space before arriving in New York.
Either way, I decide it’s for the best and turn my focus elsewhere. The view from the cabin’s windows is limited and yet exciting. We haven’t left the airport yet, but the next time we’ll land, we’ll be in New York. The realization gives me a good reason to cheer up.
For the first time since I caught Ray cheating on me, I feel better. It’s like the further away I’m from him, the lesser the weight of his betrayal. Maybe I should move to the Big Apple permanently. Who knows?
I’m ready to plug my ears with my earphones when I hear a vaguely familiar voice beside me.
“Sorry for the disturbance, but that’s my seat,” he says to the man sitting by the aisle.
It’s him; the guy with the beautiful sad eyes.
Chapter 2
We’re flying for over an hour now and we still have another one to go before arriving in New York. Even though it’s not a long trip, it feels like a lifetime has passed since we took off. Why? Because he is sitting next to me, a man with deeper sorrow in his eyes than mine. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything but listens to music and stares outside the window, the one I’m sitting next to.
I know it sounds silly, but there are times that I feel he’s staring at me. Well, not like checking me out, but just on the back of my head since I also spend most of my time staring out of the window with my earphones on. In a sense, we’re the same. Both betrayed by the world, both seeking solace to our loneliness, both taking a last minute trip to New York.
However, I should just forget him. The city is enormous and there’s no way in hell I’ll start a conversation with him, not out of the blue. I don’t have the stomach for it, not after everything that happened with Ray. And even if I did that, what would I say? Hi, I’m Georgia, the lonely, curvy girl that got cheated by her boyfriend and decided to take a trip they had planned together all by her own?
Now that I’m thinking about it, it would do for a great ice-breaker. But no. I’m not here to find me a boyfriend. I’m here to enjoy the newly regained freedom, get inspired by the metropolitan style and, most importantly, have fun. And to do that, I must remain true to myself.
As I’m willing myself to endure the rest of the trip, I suddenly feel a hand grabbing my side-arm. Abruptly, I sna
p and pull my arm away. “Excuse me?” I hiss at the source of the grab.
It’s him. “Um...sorry to scare you. Didn’t mean to. But the stewardess is waiting for your order and you didn’t hear us calling you,” he explains his action.
My heart is racing but I’m not sure whether it’s just because of the jump scare or the fact he’s looking me straight in the eyes. His voice is a mix of hoarse matureness and a childlike raucity. He sounds his age.
“I’d like some coffee, thank you,” I say to the waiting stewardess in the aisle. Before turning back to my previous position, I address him. “Don’t worry about it. I was just lost in my own thoughts. That’s all.”
It feels like I’m giving the same reply, again and again. I must stop getting swept away by my memories. I have to focus on something tangible, a feeling that has nothing to do with love.
The second most humiliating thing happens to me at that exact moment. My stomach starts growling like a hungry bear, and unlike before, the green-eyed man seems to notice. He simply grins at me condescendingly.
“Long day?” he suddenly mutters.
“Excuse me?” I reply again.
I feel stupid. Secretly hoping for a chance to talk to this lovely guy and when the opportunity finally arises...this is the best I am capable of?
“Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you. You just seem...exhausted, like you’ve had a long trip.”
Has he noticed that I haven’t slept all night? That must mean he has been watching me too. Somehow, that realization gives my heart another jump.
“Well, you got that right. Haven’t slept all night. I was taking care of some personal...business.”
The way I prolong the reveal of the last word makes me feel like I’m one of the characters in The Godfather and I’m using business as a code word for murder. Luckily, my nuance seems to get through to him.
“I’m about the same myself. Have been taking care of some personal business and decided to travel to New York last minute. I haven’t even packed a proper bag.”
For a moment, the loneliness in his eyes clears and he turns into a goofy, kind of awkward, man that can’t do anything on his own. Even in that faucet, he looks amazing. I’m not a painter, but if I were, I would love to use him as my model. I would ask him to sit on a stool, wearing nothing but his underwear, and look at me with that pair of endless sorrow.
I suddenly remember that I have to continue our conversation.
“That makes two of us.”
The flow of our discussion interrupts the stewardess bringing two cups of steaming, hot coffee.
“Mind your hands; the coffee is very hot,” she says with a slightly British accent.
I take a sip and let the hot, brown concoction offer me a surge of energy and warm my guts. When the drink is finished, I turn my head to the side, meaning to continue my chat with the charming guy only to notice he has put his earphones back on.
Our conversation has just been damaged irreversibly, kinda how everything seems to happen around me lately. Maybe he noticed I’m damaged beyond repair and didn’t want to get entangled with a mess of broken heart and misguided trust. Or he just got bored by my plain replies.
I don’t know. I don’t really care that much. It was a good distraction for a few minutes. As I said before - it’s not like I’m going to see him ever again after I get off this plane. Not that I wouldn’t like to, but he probably is one of those people you meet in the plane and discuss like you are old friends, only to never even exchange names or numbers.
I change the track I’m listening to for a heartbreaking ballad. I crank up the volume and relax my head back on the seat. Another half an hour before we’re there and then it’ll be magic.
***
“Move! You motherfucking asshole!”
I frown at the swearing taxi driver. I had heard that New Yorkers are passionate about their driving, but I never expected to be the first thing to notice after arriving. Not only that, but the man had no trouble yelling, even with a client in the back seat and the windows closed.
“Fuck off! My grandma walks faster than you, asshole!” he continues.
I’m trying to focus my attention on the impressive buildings and the view of New York, the metropolis of America. I can’t believe I’m here. I haven’t stopped grinning since we landed and heard the name of the city being announced in the speakers of the arrival hall for the first time.
Everything seems bright even though it’s mostly cloudy. There are people walking on both sides of the street and countless cars driving on the road. I find myself gawping at the scenery many times throughout the short drive to the hotel. I can’t wait to explore every part of it tomorrow. But, it’s already too late today and I really need a good night’s sleep if I’m to go sightseeing tomorrow. That and... I’m sort of afraid to walk around this city all by my own.
The image of the man in the airplane pops in my head. Maybe if he was here, I wouldn’t have to be afraid.
I shake my head wildly trying to push him away. What’s gotten over you, Georgia? He was just a stranger, someone you’ll never see again. Stop thinking about him.
By the time I’ve regained part of my focus, the car starts slowing down after taking a turn to the left. Going through another couple of blocks, we finally arrive at a small hotel close to a Subway station. We have picked it because it wasn’t too many stops away from the main attractions and a short drive with a taxi if needed be.
The car finally stops. The taxi driver doesn’t move an inch. “Do you want help with your bag?” he asks me.
“Um...no. Thank you. I got it,” I reply.
“Great. It’ll be...” and he says the price. After I pay him, I get off and head to the trunk to grab my luggage. It takes me a moment to get them all out by myself, but after I do, I move to the sidewalk so he can drive away.
The taxi driver stares at me through the side-mirrors and smiles. It’s an honest smile, not lewd or mocking. It’s a smile that means to cheer me up.
“Don’t look so sad, sweetheart. No matter who did this to you, they didn’t deserve you,” he yells as he’s driving off.
A second later, I’m laughing my heart out. That crazy man has managed to lift my spirits better than anyone I’ve ever met, and he did it by just being honest with me.
I walk up the few stairs leading to the hotel’s entrance laughing, dragging my suitcase behind me. I have to check-in and head to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. I have a whole city to explore.
Going through the entrance, I notice the warm light of the reception hall. It’s just like in the photos, only a bit smaller. But I guess photographs can do that to a place. The reception desk is fairly busy, unlike what I’ve expected. It’s not too late in the day, but I thought that many of the visitors to the hotel would have arrived by now.
I take my place in the line and wait for my turn to check in and receive the keys to the room. I use the time to check on my phone and make sure I haven’t missed any important emails from work. That and to check my feed on my social media accounts. For once, I’m not swirling into a maddening twist of self-pity and thoughts of betrayal, but I’m just enjoying my time to New York.
The staff of the hotel is efficient and before too long it’s my turn to get a room. However, out of nowhere, a man pops next to me. “I can’t believe it,” he says with a controlled surprise in his voice. “We meet again.”
It’s the man from the plane, the one who was sitting next to me. I stand surprised as well. I giggle for a moment before replying to him. “Hi.”
That’s it. A simple word; hi. Like I’m a teenage girl talking to her crush for the first time. Nice going there, Georgia.
“Who would’ve thought that we would meet at the same hotel. New York isn’t that big after all.”
“Yeah, they should put it on a big sign on the highway. ‘Welcome to New York; it’s not so big after all,’” I say, sounding more sarcastic than I would want.
However, inst
ead of getting offended, he starts laughing wholeheartedly. “Yeah, you’re right. But, to be fair, I was just trying to avoid the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“That it was destiny that brought us here together.”
I open my eyes wide. I hadn’t thought of that, not for a second. And yet, the way he brings it up to our conversation feels so natural. What has gotten into me, though? Why this man suddenly seems so important?
“Here you are, ma’am. This is yours,” the receptionist says and passes a key my way. “And for you sir,” he says and passes a similar key to the man next to me. “I hope you have a nice stay. Breakfast is served at 7 and ends at 10. I hope we see you tomorrow morning.”
Big Bad Billionaires [Volume 1] Page 54