Chapter 4 #3
“Yeah, totally. I get it.” He tries to play it cool, but I can see the disappointment slip through before he masks it.
I reach out and trace my fingers lazily along his stomach, slow and teasing. “I mean… last night was definitely a lot of fun. And I’d be so down to do it again.”
His smile returns as he guides my hand lower. “Sure thing.”
Riley, Marc, and I walk side by side along the bustling concourse after our preflight briefing, as I swirl my iced macchiato.
The soaring ceiling stretches above us, draped in showcase banners of beautiful watercolor depictions of familiar and exotic destinations.
Munich’s market square, Rio de Janeiro’s lively Copacabana beach, Amsterdam’s charming canals, and the iconic Eiffel Tower.
As we pass beneath them, my mind drifts, gaze pulled upward, lost somewhere between the colors and the places.
“Beer Flights Or Castles? Celestial Knows The Answer.
Two Times Daily Service To Munich!”
“Answer The Phone, Brazil Is Calling!
Celebrate Like You Mean It — Experience Carnival!”
“Always Take Time To Smell The Tulips,
Daily Service To Amsterdam!”
“Take In The Lights,
And Experience Paris Like Never Before!”
“Your Journey, Reimagined,” the banners proclaim, their starry accents cast a soft glow on the terminal.
They really did a good job making these feel like tiny windows into the world, I think to myself. My eyes linger on the banner for Bangkok, depicting a bustling, floating market. Istanbul and Bangkok should be fun and amazing. I just hope I can keep Marc from tagging along too much.
“Alright, what’s the plan for London?” Marc asks, cleanly breaking into my thoughts. He is grinning in that easy, charming way of his. The way that always made me wonder what he was actually angling for. “You two are always up to something.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Riley smirks, adjusting her purse in the crook of her arm. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“C’mon,” Marc coaxes. “You can’t give me anything? At least tell me where you’re going. Some pub? Sightseeing? Maybe a show?”
I clear my throat. “We’ll make plans, Marc. But I’d really like to squeeze in a run after a nap.” I keep my tone light.
“Oh, of course. Mister Purser has to stay in peak form,” he teases, but with a subtle edge.
I force a smile and flick my attention back to the Bangkok banner as I pass beneath.
The floating market is going to be incredible, I think, fighting the urge to share more.
Even more incredible will be the opportunity to stand where Drew stood when he snapped that photo and buy pad Thai from the stall he’d told me about the night we met.
God. I need a good swig of gin to tackle these feelings.
Instead, I settle for my iced coffee. I take a sip and immediately regret it. Why does airport coffee always taste so awful?
As we near the gate area, I slow to a stop along the wall and pull out my phone. Riley and Marc keep walking, absorbed in casual conversation, no matter how forced, and join the rest of the crew. I swipe open my phone and quickly type a message.
Hey Mom. About to board a flight to London. On a long trip, it ends in San Fran. Was thinking of spending a few days at home? LMK. Love you.
The message whooshes away, and I slide my phone back into my pocket and begin walking toward the gate.
It’s just ahead on the right, a marquee reading ‘London/Heathrow’ with Celestial’s logo superimposed across it welcomes me.
Distracted, I scan the crowd for an opening across the concourse, when suddenly, I collide with a solid figure.
Cold iced coffee splashes across my uniform, and papers fanned out and scattered to the floor.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” I blurt, dropping instantly to my knees to scoop the papers up before the puddle of coffee swallows them.
“It’s quite alright… Cameron,” the man says.
His voice. Fuck, that voice. Rich, polished, and unmistakably British.
It pulls my attention upward. I freeze, my hands hover above the papers, and my gaze lands on his eyes.
Wow, I’m briefly lost in them. They’re so green, like dark emeralds.
Warm, and expressive, and absolutely zero hint of irritation.
He’s tall, six-three or four maybe? His casual gray pullover and jeans somehow still look expensive, he’s polished without even trying.
“How? How do you know my name?” I ask, finally finding words.
He crouches beside me, gathering papers with a beautiful and playful glint in his eyes. “Simple. Your name bar says ‘Cameron.’ And I can see you’re a Purser as well. The little French and Italian flags would also suggest fluency, unless, you’re dabbling in false advertising.”
My face grows warm and heat creeps across my body. Embarrassment finally crashes around me, and I huff a small laugh.
“Well…” I sigh as we both stood again, papers in hand. “It seems you know everything there is to know about me, Mister…?”
“Greggory Harwell. But please, call me Gregg. And I seriously doubt that’s everything.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Harwell.” I offer my hand, smiling despite my thorough embarrassment. “Though I wish the circumstances were different.”
His handshake is firm and warm. “And yet I think it’s worked out rather well.
I trust you have a change of clothes, though?
” He glances at my bag. Our hands linger together, and something sparks inside me.
Lightning runs from my knuckles through my ribs.
It’s a charge, I haven’t felt this since…
since Drew. Gregg’s thumb brushes lightly across the back of my hand and I’m snapped back into my body.
I release his hand, and offer the stack of papers with a small, bashful, and equally mortified grin.
“I’ll definitely have to change onboard.”
Gregg takes a small step back, but his eyes stay fixed on me. “You have a very handsome smile,” he observes thoughtfully.
I blink. That certainly wasn’t what I expected. What is happening? Am I in the Twilight Zone?!
“Perhaps I owe you a coffee?” he says quickly. “One that doesn’t end up all over your uniform.”
“Erm, sure.” I hear myself say, my voice cracking like a teenager’s. “But I was able to take a few sips, and I think you actually did my tastebuds a favor.”
“Well, whichever you prefer. I enjoy coffee and tea.” He smiles, slow and knowing.
“Well, you know what flight attendants say, coffee, tea, or me—” I did not just say that. What the fuck is wrong with me?!
Gregg lets out a deep and genuine laugh. “I’m not sure I’ve been offered that on any of my travels!”
I laugh nervously, unsure how to recover, then I glance at my watch. Shit.
“Erm, well, if our paths cross again, I’d be happy to take you up on that. On the coffee or tea,” I clarify, taking a step back. “But I really need to run. Again, I’m really sorry.”
“No worries,” he says gently.
And I turn quickly, slipping back into the stream of passengers, feeling his gaze on my back as I disappear into the crowd.
I slide past a caterer into the forward galley, the coffee on my uniform already drying into stiff patches.
Riley is at the counter with a clipboard, verifying meal counts and arranging bottles of wine and champagne.
She eyes a bottle of Pinot Noir like she’s contemplating smuggling it with her to the layover.
“Well, well,” she says as she looks up, immediately smirking and looking for her phone, no doubt to capture photos for blackmail. “Look who’s making an extremely bold fashion statement! Coffee couture? Very avant-garde.”
“Don’t start,” I groan as I move toward the lavatory. But she sidesteps in front of me, swinging her clipboard out like a barricade.
“Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. Spill. And not just the coffee. What happened?”
I sag against the counter, defeated. “I walked into someone while I was texting my mom. He must’ve come right out of the lounge. I wasn’t paying attention… and boom, iced coffee everywhere. And all over me. Happy?”
“Was he cute, at least?” Riley inquires, eyebrows raised. “Please tell me it wasn’t just some random traveler.”
I hesitate and tug at my tie nervously. “I mean… yeah. I guess he was objectively handsome. British. Casually dressed. But it doesn’t matter—it was just an accident!”
“British? Handsome?” Riley leans in as if examining for signs of a lie, her eyes narrowed playfully. “Cam, that sounds like the start of a rom-com to me! Did he ask for your number?”
“Riley, it wasn’t like that,” I snort, shaking my head. “He apologized. I apologized. And that was that. End of story.”
“Oh, come on,” she responds, full of mock disbelief. “I’m reading a book right now where the love interests meet practically in the exact same way. You’re telling me that you didn’t feel a spark? Not even a tiny ember?”
I pause, and something in my chest softens. “It’s not that simple,” I say quietly. “I don't know if I’m ready for anything. After Drew… I don’t know if I can open myself up like that again. It feels wrong.”
Her teasing drops instantly, realizing she pushed up to a line, and she rests the clipboard on the counter.
“Cam,” she touches my arm gently, “losing Drew was unimaginable, and you don’t have to decide anything right now.
Taking your time is okay, but I don’t want you to not be open to something. Or someone, if it happens.”
I exhale slowly. “I just feel like if I let someone else in, it’s like I’m letting Drew go. And I don’t think I can do that.”
“You’re not letting him go,” she softly disagrees. “You’re making space for him. For your grief. And maybe someday, for something new.”
I nod, though my thoughts tangle and twist inside me.
“Drew wouldn’t want you to stop living your life,” she surmises. “He’d want you to love again and keep living. And you know that.”
“Maybe someday.” I manage a small smile. “When did you get so wise?”
“Oh, I’ve always been wise.” She grins, dramatically pretending to flip her hair. “You’ve just been too distracted by my stunning good looks to notice.”
A quiet laugh escapes me and I slip into the lavatory with my bag. A tight fit for sure… so this should be fun. “Yeah, that’s probably it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to try to salvage my uniform.”
“Just don’t salvage yourself out of a chance at something good,” she calls over her shoulder. “Life is too short.”
I hover in the doorway for a second, her words echoing louder than the hum of the aircraft. Then I close the door behind me and slide the lock over.
A few mini bottles of gin would definitely help right about now.