7. Maci
7
MACI
“I think you should pinch me,” I whisper to Samuel once we’re in our seats. He reaches over and, using his thumb and pointer finger, does exactly what I suggested.
“Ouch.” A prick to my skin shocks me.
“Don’t act like a baby. You told me to do it. Now, what is so unbelievable that you needed me to squeeze your precious skin?” Samuel asks before going on to say, “And beautiful porcelain glass complexion that women and men around the world would absolutely kill for. Yes, I’m a part of the group, too.” He sits back and crosses his ankles because, as he says, no one wants varicose veins, especially him. Whereas my legs are always crossed, and he has no problem tsking at me when he sees it.
“Um, I don’t know. How about that I have an amazing best friend who just so happened to help me land back on my feet when I thought I’d have to work forever just to pay off the bare minimum due monthly on my never-ending credit cards? Plus, on the days I’m not working at the airline, I’d be a third wheel to my parents’ marriage.” That inclusion thing they’ve done since the day I landed back in Florida has been on another level. I love my parents, but I’m okay to stay at home and not attend every event they’re invited to, where their friends will ask the intrusive questions nobody wants to hear.
Are you married?
How’s your job going?
When are you settling down?
Do you think you’ll want children one day?
Nobody wants to go through that. I repeat, nobody wants to go through that, especially when their career tanked. Marriage is out of the question when the only male you have in your life is your new gay best friend. As for the rest, I mean, sure, I’d love to have children one day, but you kind of need a man to get pregnant naturally, since artificial insemination is a bill I can’t afford. Needless to say, I can sit out every luncheon, dinner, and backyard party for the foreseeable future.
“Honey, you deserve nothing but the best. I’m going to make you see that since you’re not there yet. We’ll get you there, though.” He pats my arm where he pinched me. The ouch was instinctive. There’s no mark, and I can hardly feel it now.
“Well, thank you all the same. Is it always like this on the private charters? I feel like we barely did anything.” Compared to the last two days, this has been a breeze, whereas at the airline, we’re always on our feet, ready and waiting to perform the next task or help the next passenger. Which, by the way, I managed to mess up yesterday. While Samuel used the intercom to describe what to do in case of emergency, I was showing where everything was and how to use it. Whelp, I pointed in the opposite direction and almost put the oxygen mask upside down. Apparently, there are still a few kinks I need to work on before doing that again.
“It’s not too bad, and for the most part, a lot of passengers don’t necessarily need anything. It’s more of a precaution in case they do. And because this is a luxury jet, the company wants to cater to them. Meaning they can charge them extra and pay us more.” It makes total sense, except two flight attendants seem like a little much, unless they have more than three passengers and they’re super needy. It doesn’t fit the description for this group, minus the way a certain male politician keeps looking my way. He specifically asked for me to refill his glass of brandy. His gaze lingered a little too long and made me feel some sort of way. Samuel kept a watchful eye on me the entire time, being the saint he is.
“I’m not complaining, but this is the type of job people kill for, except me. I don’t look great in orange, and I’m thinking prison wouldn’t be very kind to me,” I joke with him.
“Oh, Maci, we all know you don’t play for the same sex, so prison is definitely out. I’m here at least once a week, and if they need you and our schedule aligns, I’d want nothing more than to have you here with me.” I do some quick math. Between maybe getting two shifts here a month and working for the airline, I’d have my credit cards paid off in no time. Then it’ll come down to saving as much as I possibly can and maybe find a one-bedroom or studio apartment that won’t eat my paycheck.
“Thank you all the same. I know I’ve said this probably a hundred times, but seriously, it bears repeating.” I stand in the small galley kitchen. The way the plane is set up is pretty cool. I don’t have much to compare it to, but I can tell you this: it’s freaking tricked out. There’s a dark wood table at the front on both sides of the aisle, rich leather chairs, which is where the sire douche bag is currently sitting and glancing at where I’m standing. In the middle, there are eight seats in the same beige color as the other chairs, which gives it a luxurious feel. There’s a small restroom to the side for everyone to use in the main area.
Where Samuel and I are, in the small galley-style kitchen, we can prep drinks as well as food, and that part isn’t exuberant but more along the lines of snack foods and sandwiches. Last but not least is the bedroom with an en-suite bathroom, shower included. You’d think it’d be on the smaller side, but that’s not the case; two people could easily fit in there with no problem.
Don’t go there, Maci Vesper, do not got there.
Anytime I walk into a bathroom, near a bed, and let’s face it, lean against a wall of any sort, I’m instantly reminded of that night in Vegas.
“Maci.” He flings his hand toward me, brushing my gratitude off. I scoff. He has no idea that it means everything to me. “You don’t have to keep thanking me, sweetie. Now, how about I entertain the guys at the table while you wake up the miss?” He rolls his eyes dramatically and saves me once again. I’m sure I could handle the big honcho without making a spectacle of the situation. The only problem would be if he got bold and tried to grab my ass. Then all bets are off. I’d pull out the self-defense moves my dad taught me and more than likely get fired on the spot.
“Saving my bacon yet again. I owe you. What about a drink when we get back?” I suggest.
“A night on the town, drinks and dancing,” Samuel counters.
“Works for me. I’m still buying you a drink or ten,” I say the last on a muted breath.
“Get out of here. You’re on, and one drink. But I’m introducing you to my kind of bars.” Instead of waiting for me to respond, he turns on his heel and sways his hips in an extra exaggerated way. Oh, I can already tell it’s going to be a hell of a fun time to go out with Samuel and his friends.
I head toward the back bedroom, a few steps away at most, and lightly tap on the metal door, trying to wake her up gently in case she’s asleep.
“Come in,” Mrs. McCarthy says almost immediately.
“Hi, I wanted to let you know we’ll be landing in about ten minutes,” I say as I open the door yet don’t step so much as a foot inside the room.
“Thank you. I’ll be right out,” she responds.
“You’re welcome.” I close the door quietly and clean up the few dishes that Samuel placed in the sink. The one downfall of this gig is we have to clean after the passengers disembark. It’s not a lot, though, since for the most part, we’ve been cleaning as we go along. I’ll make the bed when Mrs. McCarthy is out of the bedroom, run the vacuum so they’ll have those pristine carpet lines, and Samuel mentioned he’d wipe everything down and look after the bathroom. That is until we land back in New York or Florida. I’m almost certain we’ll need to do a deeper clean once return to our home airport. Though, this is my first rodeo here, and things could be different.
“Thank you, Maci. Tysen and Liam have absolute gems working for them.” My stomach tilts sideways at hearing his name when I myself don’t say it out in the open. Even when I’m in the throes of ecstasy, I say his name in my head, and, well, I also do that because I don’t want my parents to hear me getting myself off.
“They’ve been a pleasure to work for. I hope you enjoy your visit in California,” I tell her as she walks past me and toward the seats where her husband, Senator McCarthy, and his assistant, Mr. Cockburn, are sitting. Yep, you heard me right. That’s his last name. Try keeping a straight face in front of the uptight dude.
“I’m sure I will.” We leave it at that. I finish washing and rinsing before I go about towel drying the dishes. There’s a rack where it seems semi-secure, but I’m not taking any chances on my watch. It doesn’t take long before I’m moving to my next task, wiping down the counters and taking inventory of what we went through. The tablet Vaughn Air Elite has us use to input what we need is top notch. The senator and his assistant seem to have been a lush with the brandy, and I’m not quite sure we’ll have enough to make it back to New York at the rate they’ve been drinking.
“All done?” Samuel asks.
“Yep. We may have to rush to the liquor store or see if we can order it as soon as we land.” I place the tablet back in the holder. We move out of the kitchen, head to the small area where no one can see us, and take our seats. Plus, we can talk a bit more freely and out of earshot.
“We won’t have to do either. As soon as you input it into the system, it sends a message to the employees on the ground. They fill the order and will cart it to us once the plane is empty of passengers.” Samuel and I buckle ourselves in, a task I’m certain he made sure our guests did as well.
“Wow, Vaughn Air Elite really pulls out all the stops.” This airline is pure opulence and class.
“Tysen and his friends are the masterminds behind everything. They’ve thought of every detail and had this done in a moment’s notice. You’ll get to meet him once we land.” That name slices through me once again at the exact time I feel the wheels come down and a dip in the air jolts my system. I work on my breathing, refusing to think that I could be getting nauseous from landing.
“Well, it’s unbelievably amazing.” My voice catches as the gears hit the pavement and there’s a slight jarring that only makes the bubble in my stomach start to turn. Jesus, this is ridiculous. I’ve never had this issue before, and now that I’m in the air as a career, it seems I’ll have to learn to deal with it.
Nothing is making sense right now.
“You don’t look so good, honey,” Samuel states the obvious. I give him a tight smile and keep a hand over my mouth on the off-chance I can’t make it to the restroom in time. “Go, go, go. I’ll take care of the guests, but use the cabin bathroom just in case.” He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I rip my seatbelt off and try to be as light on my feet as possible, crossing my fingers that I’m not making any noises, and dart into the bathroom, managing to close the door behind me. I’m barely through the next door before I’m dropping to my knees and expelling everything I’ve got, which isn’t much as it is.
I’m doomed. There’s no other word for it. I’ll be given my marching orders, never to work for Vaughn Air Elite again, and if this keeps happening at the corporate airline, I’ll be out of a job, too. Which luckily, yesterday I was fine. Today, not so much. Another wave of nausea hits me, and I’m lurching upward, holding my hair back while dealing with the same thing all over again.