Aisha’s bed creaked, the light switch clicked, and a moment later I could hear her fingers energetically hitting her laptop’s keyboard, as if she hadn’t just been dragged out of her creaky twin bed.
Aisha was worth her weight in gold for all the stuff she did for Brooks and Sons. Yet she was paid barely enough to afford an apartment about the size of a shoebox. Of course, in central New York, a shoebox was considered decent-sized real estate. The only reason I lived in my swanky place next to Central Park was because my dad bought it the year I was born and kept it as a rental property until I was old enough to move out of our family penthouse.
“All our usual charters are fully booked,” Aisha informed me somberly.
I knew that they likely would be, but companies often chartered a plane to transport fewer people than the aircraft’s full capacity.
“See if any of them could squeeze in one more person?”
“I’ll try.”
“Oh, and Aisha,” I said before she had a chance to hang up. “Try other charter companies too, please.”
“The ones not on the list of approved partners?” she asked uncertainly.
“Yes.”
“The firm may not cover the expense, Maren,” she warned.
“I know. I’ll pay for it myself if I have to.”
Charters weren’t cheap, even if I just hitched a ride on the plane chartered by someone else already. But I did have the means to pay for a seat. My salary at the firm was pretty good, especially after the raise I’d negotiated last year. It cost me months of stress and endless persistence, but I finally earned the same money as Liam, even though I’d started working at the firm a year before him and didn’t get any of the perks he got as the junior partner.
Since I turned thirty-three last year, I also got access to the trust fund my parents set up for me. It didn’t exactly give me a fortune, but I could afford to splurge on this potentially career-defining flight. Our client in this particular case was a well-known business mogul with personal drama that had been getting a lot of public attention. It was my chance to strengthen my reputation as someone capable of winning even the most complicated cases.
I had never related as much to Richard the Third as I did now. I, too, would pay a kingdom for a horse, or in my case, aseat on a plane to LA today. Too bad I didn’t have a kingdom, and no one had offered me a seat at any price so far.
“Hey, Miss,” a deep male voice sounded behind me.
I ignored it. There were many “Misses” in the crowded terminal, and I wasn’t supposed to be meeting anyone here. Clasping my phone in my hand, I made my way through the bottleneck by the exit from the building.
The early spring air outside the glass doors greeted me with a mix of gasoline fumes and a hint of rotting garbage from the trash bins nearby.
I glanced at my phone screen, willing Aisha to call back with any good news because I needed some good news this morning.
“Ma’am,” the same deep voice insisted right behind me now, forcing me to finally turn around.
A wide male chest clad in a tight black t-shirt immediately blocked my view. The fabric of the t-shirt struggled to remain in one piece, with its seams pushed to the limit by the man’s bulging pectorals and equally massive biceps.
“Listen, whatever it is, I’m not interested,” I informed the chest, not bothering to glance up at its owner.
“You mean you’re not interested in a flight to LA?” he asked with a smirk in his voice.
That finally snapped my gaze up to his face.
I wasn’t a short woman; my stilettos had easily pushed my height to six feet. Yet I had to toss my head far back until my neck hurt, just to see his dark-brown eyes way above me.
“Do you own an airline?” I aimed for a sarcastic tone, but there was so much hope in my voice, it came out almost pleading.
I didn’t believe in miracles, but I would absolutely accept a bodybuilder angel with hidden wings that could fly me to LA today.
“No. I don’t have an airline. But I work for a charter.” He showed me a cardboard sign with“Marianne Liu PhD”written on it in an elegant script just above the logo of a charter company. “One of our clients is delayed due to the weather. We can’t wait for her with the seven people already on board. Her seat is available if you want it.”
I forced my lungs to breathe evenly through the excitement bubbling up to my throat.
Did I really get so lucky?
Had the stars suddenly aligned somehow, sending a solution to my problem?
