Page 93 of Perfect Score

“Are you going to be a problem, ma’am?” she asks, giving me a lifted eyebrow.

“No, I swear,” I tell her, lifting my hands up like I’m taking an oath. “I just need to tell him before he spends the next couple of hours thinking I want to be with anyone other than him. Please, I’m begging.”

She looks down at the computer screen.

“Okay, I have one seat left on the plane. It’s a middle seat back by the lavatory.”

I’ll sit in the belly of the plane with the luggage at this point if it means I can speak to him for thirty seconds.

“I’ll take it.” I jump up in the air, grateful to just have a seat on a booked flight.

She gives me a little side-eye, I’m sure thinking her supervisor is going to fire her for letting the crazy lady in a ball gown on the flight, but I’ll be on my best behavior. I wouldn’t do her dirty like that.

“Thank you so much! You have no idea what this means to me.”

She prints the boarding pass and then lays it on the counter.

I grab it and run to TSA.

I get through quickly with only a few other people since there aren’t many flights this late at night.

The last call for my flight echoes through the terminal and I make a dash for the gate, my dress swishing around my ankles and my bare feet about ready to give out.

“That’s me! That’s me!” I yell, running down the hallway toward the gate agent.

She stands there and waits for me at the door.

“Headed somewhere special?” she asks, scanning my dress with a smile.

“Something like that,” I tell her.

I’d say that telling Brent that he’s the only one I want is very special.

She scans my ticket, and I run down the gangway toward the aircraft door, where the flight attendant awaits me.

“Welcome aboard,” she says with a forced smile.

I’m sure she loves last-minute passengers boarding her flight after everyone else has settled.

“Thanks.” I walk past her, my heart sputtering out of control from running and my nerves on edge.

I have no idea what I will be met with when I see Brent, and I don’t end up with much time to process it because he’s sitting in first class in the second row.

He looks up from his drink, and his eyes lock onto mine.

His eyes flare like he’s surprised to see me.

“What are you doing? I thought your flight was tomorrow?” he says, scanning my dress too.

I get it… It’s unusual to see a woman in a formal dress on an aircraft.

“It is… or… it was, but I need to talk to you,” I tell him.

“Ma’am, I need you to take your seat,” the flight attendant says.

I glance back over my shoulder at the flight attendant standing behind me. She looks even more irritated than before.

“Right, I will. I just…”

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