He shrugs. “This isn’t so bad.”
I have to press my lips downward to stop myself from smiling like a total goober. “So what was it? Traffic? TV show filming on your street? Trekking to JFK is like a real-life hero’s journey.”
He laughs. “I was just second-guessing my trip. Thinking about putting it off or just canceling altogether.”
I sigh, leaning back into my seat. “I didn’t want to leave either, but I didn’t really have any other options at the moment.”
He taps around on his screen absentmindedly before pointing at the logo forBefore Midnight. “You ever seen this show?”
“Once or twice, I guess,” I lie through my teeth.
“You know, I heard that the single guys on that show are more well vetted than vice presidential candidates.” He scrolls back a couple seasons until he lands on Tyler Buchanan’s season. “And I know for a fact that this guy left the girl he chose for one of the producers on the show.”
I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from mimicking exactly what Erica would say to this.I cannot confirm or deny those allegations. What Prince Charming doesn’t know is that the producer Tyler fell for was a he, not a she.
“Is that true?” I ask. “Well, I don’t know what kind of person thinks they could actually find true love on a show like that, but at least their foolishness makes for some good entertainment for the rest of us.”
He cracks a stiff half smile and sighs. “At least it’s good for something.”
The flight attendant strolls down the aisle with a drink cart, and Prince Charming orders himself a whiskey. “And whatever she wants,” he tells her.
The flight attendant practically preens in his direction.
I throw a hand up. “Oh, I’m fine with just ginger ale.”
“Oh, come on,” he says.
“Um, okay, just a champagne, then.”
The flight attendant fills my plastic cup to the top, and it might be crappy champagne, but at least they’re not skimping on it.
Once she moves on to the next row, he holds up his glass. “To missed flights and a transcontinental trip we might soon regret!”
I laugh and clink my cup against his. “To…that!”
For the rest of the flight, we both have our headphones in. I settle on old episodes ofThe Office, and he watchesTerminator 2. (It doesn’t count as stalking if you’re sitting butt to butt with someone in economy, okay?)
When we land, almost everyone stands up the moment the fasten-seat-belt sign is turned off.
“There are two kinds of people in this world,” he says as he shoves his headphones into his bag. “The kind of person who stands up immediately no matter how close they are to the exit door and the kind of person who waits in their seat like a civilized human being.”
“Yes! Thank you!” I say. “This is my pet peeve.”
I peer over the row ahead of me to see King Bro elbowing his way into the aisle.
“Looks like we know what kind of guy your old pal is,” he says, nodding his head toward King Bro.
When it’s our turn to go, Prince Charming stands up and helps as many people who need it with their suitcases. He takes one look at my luggage tag shaped like a stiletto. “I’m guessing this one is yours.”
I laugh. “I’ve got a thing for shoes.”
I work my way out into the aisle, but when I turn back to see where my new Prince Charming friend is, I see that he’s stuck where I left him, still helping people with their bags. On the one hand, I find this very endearing, and on the other, I wonder how bad he is at setting boundaries in his everyday life.
Once I make it up the jet bridge, I race to the bathroom, because that champagne is going straight through me whether I like it or not.
When I make it out of the restroom, I wait for a few minutes, hoping to catch him. I didn’t even get his name. After I give up on finding him, I hoof it to baggage claim, where a row of drivers in full suits is waiting with iPads on display reading their passengers’ last names.
A tall bald white man in a black suit and sunglasses is waiting for me with a sign that readsTREMAINE.
