Chapter 16
I close my tray table and put my seat upright in preparation for landing. The seatbelt sign dings on, and the captain’s voice crackles through the speakers, announcing our descent into Bangkok. I stretch, savoring the last few moments of comfort in my first-class seat, already mourning all the uncomfortable flights in my future. Flying will never be the same after this. Ignorance is bliss. Now I know what I’m missing out on. For the past three flights and twenty-three hours of travel time, I’ve been spoiled with warm towels, gourmet meals, and a seat that reclines into an actual bed.
Somewhere in the back of the plane, Nate is taking one for the team—taking one for me . I resolve to be civil. It’s the least I can do. Endless legroom and plush blankets have earned him that, despite crashing my friends’ dinner and my friends spilling all my secrets.
The last thing I need is for Nate to know I was dumped by my last arrogant coworker. I’m sure he’d have a heyday with that piece of information—bring it up whenever he wants just to irritate me. After he left the restaurant, my friends had the gall to tell me there was chemistry between us and that I was just refusing to admit it.
No, if I have chemistry with anyone, it’s Mr. International. He’s mature, kind, witty, and adventurous—nothing like my insufferable coworker.
I open Instagram, even though I’m still in airplane mode, and read through the message exchange between Mr. International and me during my last layover.
@girl_sees_the_world:
I have a question I need to know the answer to. I probably should’ve asked it at the very beginning, but I didn’t, and now I regret it. Are you married?
@worth_traveling_to:
If I were married, do you really think I would be messaging you so much?
@girl_sees_the_world:
I hope not, but you wouldn’t be the first man to talk to another woman behind his wife’s back.
@worth_traveling_to:
I’m not married.
@girl_sees_the_world:
Or otherwise engaged in another relationship?
@worth_traveling_to:
I’m single if that’s what you’re trying to get at.
@girl_sees_the_world:
That’s exactly what I was trying to get at. Just had to double-check.
@worth_traveling_to:
What about you? Married or otherwise engaged in another relationship?
@girl_sees_the_world:
I’m single.
@worth_traveling_to:
Glad we resolved that.
@girl_sees_the_world:
Me too.
@worth_traveling_to:
Anything else you want to know?
@girl_sees_the_world:
I think that’s it…for now.
@worth_traveling_to:
I like your addition of ‘for now.’ Very open-ended.
There’s a thump when the tires hit the ground. I crane my neck to see out the window, but it’s useless. Everything’s dark except for the airport lights on the runway. As we taxi, I take my phone off airplane mode, hoping there will be something new from him, but there’s nothing. Maybe he’s ghosting me because I asked about his marital status, or maybe I’m just in my head—plausible based on my lack of sleep.
But there is a new text from Nate.
Nate:
I’m so far in the back of the plane I think I’ll land ten minutes after you.
Carly:
What’s that? I can’t hear you back there.
I send my text with a picture of the long aisle from the front of the plane to the back. I flip to other messages and emails, reading them. The next few minutes are spent going through everything I missed while offline.
Yesterday morning, before we flew out, I had to add a last-minute executive and his wife to the trip—someone Nate is related to. There are more Farnsworths on this trip than I can count. Of course, they requested a presidential suite in every hotel we’re staying in, which required some major switching around. I can’t even blame Nate for the inconvenience. But the last confirmation for their hotel in Phuket finally came through, so I can mentally check that off my list.
The seatbelt sign dings, and everyone on the plane scrambles to their feet. I’m not waiting for Nate at the gate. I haven’t waited for him on any other flight. Honestly, I’ve been avoiding him all day while traveling. I’ve gone my way, and he’s gone his, which helps keep the peace. He’s not someone I want to spend time with. The return flights will be much better since the upgrade put me on a completely different flight and travel itinerary from him.
I stop by the bathroom and do a quick look in the mirror. I look pretty feral—messy bun, day-old makeup, mascara smudges, bloodshot eyes, dark bags under my lashes, and a Dr. Pepper stain on my chest from some surprise turbulence. There are limits to first-class. It doesn’t magically make you look good while traveling.
My phone dings with a text.
Nate:
Back of the plane just landed.
Carly:
It’s about time. I’ve been waiting at the luggage claim for thirty minutes.
This jokey banter between Nate and me is new. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but the success of the trip hinges on us getting along and working together, so a little friendly conversation is necessary, I guess.
I stick my phone in my back pocket and head out of the bathroom. When I reach the baggage carousel, I get a cart and wait until the luggage appears. One by one, I grab our suitcases and bags full of swag.
“Took you long enough.” The corner of my mouth lifts as he walks up.
“Some of us were exiting from the back of the plane.” He grabs the luggage in my hand and lifts it onto the cart. “How was your flight?” He turns around, and his gaze flicks over me.
Swiping at my hair, I stare back at him. “Yeah, I know I look bad.”
“Uh…” He drops his eyes to the bags and clears his throat. “I actually thought you looked nice.”
Nice?
He probably wants something from me, and his compliment is a ploy to butter me up.
“What is it?” I put my hand on my hip.
“What is what?”
“You want something from me, don’t you? What is it? Is there something with the trip you forgot that I now have to do?”
The muscle in his jaw tightens. “Forget I said something.”
My arm drops, and I open my mouth to speak, but Nate walks to the baggage claim, leaving me standing alone.
That was a strange encounter, right? I didn’t misinterpret our conversation, did I? All the friendly, joking aspects vanish, and the usual tension seeps into the gaps, and I don’t understand why. Or maybe I do. Maybe I know I was a little harsh jumping to conclusions.
I’m too tired to figure it out. I need to get to the hotel and go to bed so I’m ready to work tomorrow. Nate and I have one day to arrange everything before the trip officially begins, and the executives show up.
And then it’s showtime.