After I hung up and stowed my bags, I settled into my seat. The flight from LA to New York was five and a half hours. I’d been annoyed when my mother had called the airline pretending to be me and upgraded my ticket to first class, but the big, comfy seat that reclined to a bed now made this section seem more and more like a little slice of heaven. Especially when the flight attendant walked over carrying a tray.
“Would you like orange juice or champagne before we take off?”
“Oooh. I love mimosas. I’ll take both.”
She nodded. “Good choice.”
It had been a year since I’d flown home to New York, and I’d forgotten how big these planes were. Boarding went on for a full half hour. So when the flight attendant returned with the bottle of champagne and offered a refill, I happily nodded.
“Yes, please. It’ll help take the edge off.”
She smiled. “Nervous flier?”
“No. But I’m going home for a wedding I’m not looking forward to.”
“Is there someone you don’t want to see attending?”
I nodded. “The groom. He’s my ex.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. You must be a bigger person than me. Not sure I’d go to my ex’s wedding, if I was invited.”
“I don’t have too much of a choice. He’s marrying my stepsister.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh my.”
I sighed. “Tell me about it.”
She refilled my champagne flute to the brim and set the half-full bottle on my tray table. “It’s going to be a bit before we get to pull away from the gate. The runway is backed up since we missed our time slot. I’ll just leave this here. My name is Aileen. Buzz if you need anything else.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
She leaned down to me. “My ex-boyfriend is a pilot. I got stuck on a flight with him last month, and Iaccidentallyspilled the soda he ordered on his shirt when I was bringing him his dinner. It didn’t make it any less awkward, but it made me happy to look at the stain every time I had to see him after that. Maybe you should have a little accident at the wedding.”
“Who should I bump into, the bride or the groom?”
She smiled. “Both. And maybe order a Bloody Mary instead of a soda before you do.”
“I might just do that.”
We wound up sitting at the gate for another forty-five minutes, during which time I polished off my second glass of champagne and the remainder of what was left in the bottle. I was feeling no pain by the time we started to taxi toward the runway. Unfortunately, I was also feeling—damn Miles for always being right—emotional. So after I switched my cell to airplane mode, I pulled up Brendan’s text. It had come in a week ago, and I’d read it at least twenty times since then.
Brendan: Hey. Could we get together to talk when you get to town? Your mom said you’re coming in Thursday. Maybe we could meet for a drink at Buvette?
A few minutes later, a second text had come in.
Brendan: I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this conversation to Colette.
The latter had made my blood boil. I’d kicked around taking a screenshot of the text and sending it directly to my stepsister, but I wasn’t up for the drama that would inevitably ensue. I also didn’t want Colette to think I was jealous or petty. Even thoughpettywas exactly what youshould bewhen your boyfriend of three years marries your freaking stepsister. I shook my head and swiped the text closed, deciding to watch a movie to keep me distracted. At some point I must’ve dozed off, because when I woke up, the movie was no longer playing and there was only a little over an hour left in the flight. My new friend, Aileen, appeared at my side.
She smiled. “Good nap?”
“Definitely. Exactly what I needed.”
“Glad to hear it. I’m about to wheel around the ice cream cart, so you woke up at the perfect time. The only thing better than champagne and a nap is having a hot fudge sundae when you wake up. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Ice cream sounds great. And just some water, please.”
While I waited for the flight attendant to come back, I dug out my phone and connected to the free Wi-Fi so I could check email. As soon as the three little bars illuminated, a text popped up in preview.
