Page 2 of An Unexpected Encounter

Me: Why not?

What does it matter if I check in without seeing her first? All she wants is to portray the image of a perfect family. I’m doing that just by being at the wedding. Shouldn’t that be enough?

Mom: I told Abel what time you’re getting in and he wants to meet you and have a late lunch before taking me for a moonlight cruise on his boat.

Mom: His sons will be here tomorrow afternoon, just in time for the wedding. They had to rearrange their shifts at their new job. At least one of our children will be here today.

Me: Mom!

Really? People do have to work and this wedding was just planned not even two months ago.

Mom: What? It’s the truth, you’d think our children would be here supporting us instead of giving us anxiety on our special day.

Me: okay well they’re calling for us to board gtg.

I hate lying, but listening to her bitch is even worse.

The driver, bless his heart, must finally get the picture that I don’t want to talk. I immerse myself in my phone, scrolling through all my emails, answering the ones I need to, and deleting the spam. A little while later, as we pull up in front of the airport, I’m just finishing clearing out the nearly three hundred emails in my inbox.

I never thought being an accountant would require answering this many emails, especially when it’s not even tax season. I’ve been lucky in my career, starting as a freelance accountant. Word of mouth spread quickly, and I gained a steady clientele, affording me the ability to work from home, as well as set my own schedule.

“Have a wonderful trip and congratulations to your mother,” he tells me sweetly. I’ll need to remember to give him a good driver review on the app.

Gathering my suitcase, garment, and toiletry bag, I rush to the check-in counter, praying I have everything I need and can get through the check-in line quickly. Thankfully. Somewhere hears my prayers and it doesn’t.

“Okay, ma’am. Here’s your boarding pass, but you need to hurry. Your plane is set to take off in fifteen minutes and they’ve already begun boarding,” the pimply face man tells me. I mean, when did they start hiring teenagers? Because that’s what this guy looks like.

“Shit!” I panic, gathering my purse and racing toward the checkpoint.

The whole process eats away at my time. I put all my items in the bin, including shoes, and walk through the metal detector, praying it doesn’t go off because it’ll only delay me more. Once I make it through, I still have to wait for the bin to get down the conveyor belt.

When it does, I slide my shoes back and race through the airport to my gate like I’m heading toward the finish line, with my eyes on the gold medal.

“Wait, wait!” I scream as I see the attendant getting ready to close the gate.

She hears my screams and looks like she thinks about it for a moment before stopping.

“You’re lucky,” she tells me.

“Thank you, thank you,” I rush out, breathless.

She quickly checks my boarding pass and directs me toward the plane. All eyes are on me when I step inside, especially the little old lady at the front who’s glaring like I held the plane up for hours when, in actuality, they were just shutting the door.

Ignoring everyone, I head down the aisle to my seat. Relief washes over me when I sit down, having made my first flight on time, and I blow out a deep breath. The stewardess goes through her pre-flight spiel and the next thing I know, we’re in the air.

It only takes about an hour to get to the next airport and once again I’m off and running to the next terminal. Thankfully, they weren’t closing the gate in my face, but I was the last to make it there. If I had missed my connecting flight, I don’t know what I would have done. Mom would’ve really killed me, going on about how I was irresponsible and trying to ruin her life.

I feel like I haven’t been able to catch my breath since this morning. It doesn’t help that I woke up with a hangover.

Making my way down the aisle, I look for my assigned seat. When I finally spot it, I stop dead in my tracks, staring at the guy occupying the window seat next to mine who’s hot as sin. He’s got dark brown hair, so dark it’s almost black, and a chiseled jaw. Tattoos wrap around his exposed forearm, disappearing underneath his shirt sleeve.

He stares as I sit down. Did it just get really hot in here?

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Looks like I get the amazing company of the most beautiful woman on the plane,” he tells me, causing the blood to rush to my cheeks as I giggle. Ahh shit! Where in the hell did that come from?

“Cocky, aren’t we? But I’m sure there are far prettier women than me on the plane who would cream their panties for lines like that. That’s just not me.” I joke with an awkward laugh as I buckle my seatbelt. Before he can reply, the airline attendant begins her safety speech.

I keep glancing at the deliciously handsome man next to me. The scent of his cedarwood cologne makes me rub my thighs together and all I want to do is climb into his lap and ride him until we both see stars.

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