Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series Ainsley Claire (primary phonics books .TXT) 📖

she got it backward. I pick up the coffee and take a sip.

A young girl comes up to our seats. “Excuse me. Are you Mia Couture?”

Mia looks up. “Yes, I am.”

“May I have your autograph?”

Mia smiles. “Of course.” I hand Mia a pen, and the girl gives her a notebook. “What’s your name?”

“Erin.”

“Erin, so nice to meet you. How old are you?”

The flight attendant approaches, and I see Peter back her away.

“I’m sixteen. I’m looking at Columbia this weekend in New York.”

“That’s an outstanding school. What do you want to study?”

“I think I’d like to go into public relations.”

Mia nods. “My company drives PRNow.”

She lights up. “My dad uses Diamond Analytics at his company, which is how I know you.”

“Well, thanks for saying hello. I hope you find all you want at Columbia. It’s a great school.”

She smiles, but doesn’t move to return to her seat.

“Erin, if you’d like, after we land in New York, we can take a picture together,” Mia adds.

Her face lights up. “My dad and I would love that. Thank you.”

“Then I’ll see you in the gate area in New York.”

Several people in the first-class cabin are now straining to take a look at Mia as Erin moves away. Their puzzled looks confirm they can’t figure out who she is. Thankfully the captain announces that we’re cleared to leave the gate, so everyone has to sit forward in their seats as we push off.

Mia pulls out her headphones and finds a movie. Once we hear the ding that signals the flight crew can move around the cabin, I notice the one for our section stands. She returns with a glass of what looks like carbonated water and lime after we reach altitude, and I relax into my seat.

Mia falls asleep, and I dig into my work.

As Mia sleeps, the flight attendant becomes very attentive—aggressively so. She keeps refilling my coffee, and her uniform seems to be popping buttons. Each time she brings me a fresh cup, she rubs her breasts across my arm.

“Where are you staying in New York?” she purrs.

I’m not interested. Sometime in the past I might have taken her number, but right now I have zero interest—and I would think that was pretty obvious. “In Manhattan,” I say, as curtly as possible.

“I notice you’re not wearing a ring. Any chance you might want to hang out with me later?”

I put my report down and look at her. She gives me a sultry smile.

“Look, I’m traveling with my girlfriend, and I’m not even remotely interested. I think I have enough coffee. Can you please let me get some work done?”

She stands up straight, her eyes as big as saucers, and walks to the back of the plane.

The lady sitting across the aisle leans over. “You handled that very well.”

I smile at her. “Thanks.”

I return to my work, and a different flight attendant works the first-class cabin for the remainder of the flight. I’m disturbed only by Peter, who comes by to tell me he’s upping the security protocol when we land. After he explains, I walk back to the main cabin and confirm the plan for a photo with Erin and her father. I know Mia will still want to do it.

When the captain announces that we’re in final approach, I reach over and shake Mia awake. “Sweetheart, we’re about to land.”

“Already?”

“I talked to Peter, and he’d like to take a few extra precautions as we exit,” I tell her once she’s awake. “I walked back to Erin and her dad and let them know we’ll probably be among the last to get off. But we’re still planning on the picture.”

“Oh, okay. I don’t usually have to worry about crowds.”

I shrug. “Peter has called ahead for security, just in case.”

As requested, we wait for most of the plane to disembark. Once Peter thinks it’s appropriate, we walk out to a very crowded terminal. We spot Erin, and Mia poses for pictures with her and her dad and wishes her well.

“Did something happen while I was sleeping?” she asks Peter as we head for the baggage claim.

He shakes his head. “Nothing specific. We just want to be safe. This is a new age.”

We walk through the terminal, and everything seems fine now that we’re off the plane, but I can’t shake this rattled feeling. I hope it doesn’t stick with me the whole time we’re here.

Peter guides us smoothly to the waiting car, and we’re off into the traffic of the city. The plan is that we’ll check in at our hotel and get dressed for dinner with Mia’s parents.

An hour later, I’m wearing one of the two wool suits I own, and I’ve selected a starched, white shirt and red tie. I could tell Mia was nervous when we arrived. Probably part of it was the flight for her too, but I’ve never seen anyone make her nervous the way her parents seem to. That’s not helping me relax either, though she does look beautiful. She has on some fabulous dress that she told me was vintage Chanel.

Mia shakes her head. “If you keep running your hands through your hair, you’re going to go bald. And while bald is sexy, I kind of like the surf-boy look.”

Mia told me her parents made a reservation at the new-place-to-be-seen restaurant for dinner. She says they made a big deal about how they could pull strings and get a reservation there on short notice. She advised that I should mention being impressed, and that alone would ensure they adore me.

Peter brings the rental car around to pick us up, and when we arrive at the restaurant, he walks us in before evaporating. I’m sure he’s still nearby. After a moment, the hostess shows