17. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Scarlett
Iwake up on Saturday morning to a good luck message from my twin, and doubts about bringing the suppressants on a flight. I had hyper-realistic nightmares about being outed as an Omega at the airport, for having the bottle in my bag.
I shudder as I get out of bed and check through my carry-on suitcase.
It takes about three seconds to locate the bottle of pills I jammed in there last night.
Pulling it out, I try to tell myself I’m being dumb.
Plenty of Omegas take these so they can function in the real world without drawing attention to themselves. People must take them on flights all the time.
It’s not like a security guard is going to actually announce that “Scarlett Faris is an Omega” over the tannoy system, like the loudmouthed idiot in my dream.
Now that I think about it, the nightmare seems less anxiety inducing.
For one thing, it’s not realistic, and for another, no one would pay much attention if it was.
It’s not like most strangers would give a crap about being told a random woman in their vicinity is an Omega. I guess the worst that might happen would be a creepy Alpha taking notice of me afterward, which isn’t nothing, but it would have to actually happen first, which it would never.
“Who knew one little bottle of pills could cause so much trouble?” I ask as I uncap the bottle and tip a couple into my palm. The instructions specify one or two pills up to three times a day, dependent on need. After that dream, I’m erring on the side of extreme caution.
The only thing worse than someone telling everyone what I am would be perfuming for the first time ever in public.
I shudder at the thought of that.
I’ve never once caught a hint of my perfume, and at this point I don’t expect to, because I’m pretty sure I’m defective.
On an average day, I could say that with complete certainty.
Usually, I don’t even have to think about it.
But today is different, for more than one reason.
For one thing, if I was ever going to perfume, it would be for the band I’m about to meet.
For another, more important thing, I need to conduct myself like my reserved sister.
Her dream job is on the line.
It’s not the time to stress-test my body’s responses to men I’ve idolised for years.
I can quit the pills once I’m back home and I’m in my normal routine.
Once I’ve grabbed a bottle of water from my sister’s fridge to wash them down, I get showered and dressed, and then I pick up my phone to call a cab to the airport.
The phone beeps in my hand, and I see a message come through from Divina, Sapphire’s boss.
Opening the text message, I discover my travel plans have changed slightly.
I’m not heading to one of the regular airport terminals.
I’ll be dropped off at the terminal that Chaos Burning’s private jet is assigned to.
Xane Orion is going to fly us out to the resort himself.
Oh, my fucking God.
I lean against the wall as I read the message over again to make sure I didn’t hallucinate the whole thing.
Nope. It’s real.
I’m about to get on a private jet with my favorite band on the planet.
Another beep, and I realize she’s sent another text.
Her follow up message tells me the band have sent a chauffeur to pick me up, and he should be outside, right about now.
I rush over to the living room window and look out.
There’s a limousine parked across from the building, driver standing next to the door.
Holy shit. I’m going to the airport in a chauffeur-driven limo!
This pretty much exceeds my wildest dreams.
I’m completely wired as I grab my carry-on luggage and Sapphire’s modest purse.
Remembering to lock the apartment door helps me slow down for long enough to remind myself who I’m supposed to be. Sapphire would not rush out there, and she definitely wouldn’t chat excitedly to the chauffer the whole ride over.
I force myself to calm down and take my time getting down the stairs.
My sister’s low-heeled pumps are going to take some getting used to. It feels like they’re working out completely different muscles in my legs. That’s weird, but at least it gives me something mundane to focus on.
I don’t know how I’m going to contain my excitement once I get to the private jet.
Last night’s bad dream is ejected from my mind as I step outside and politely greet the limo driver, like I imagine Saph would.
He takes my bag from me and opens the door to the luxurious back seat of the car.
Slipping inside, it feels like I’ve entered an incredible fantasy world.
The driver closes the door, and I relax into the plush leather.
Now, this is the kind of dream I can get behind.
I might look like Saph in her navy dress and blazer, and her heels that are too low to feel sexy wearing, but I’m in a limo and I’m headed out on a private flight to a luxury island resort to spend a week with the band that made me realize I was meant to be a musician.
This is my ultimate dream-come-true.
I’m so damn lucky to have a sister as good as mine.
To thank her, I’m gonna write the best interview her editor has ever read.
There’s no way Divina won’t promote her after it.
“I promise, Saph,” I whisper, as the driver starts to take me away from her doorstep.
She’s gonna be glad she trusted me this time.