Page 43 of Beauty and her Billionaire Beast
19
Isabelle
I sit at JFK airport waiting for my Denver flight to be announced. It’s a last-minute flight, but I didn’t pay for it. All those months taking short haul flights upstate on Dad’s campaign trail are paying off now. I used all my points to buy a first-class ticket to see my sister,Bethany.
I’m so done with this concrete jungle. Dreams aren’t made here, they’rebroken.
They shouldn’t call this city the BigApple.
They should call it the PoisonApple.
I’m getting the hell away from thisplace.
Last night, I saw Knox fight. It was stupid going there, but because he blocked me out after our argument, I wanted to see him face to face and give him a pieceof my mind. But the place was a crowded mess, and after Knox won, I ended up waiting beside the wrong car, thinking I’d see him. But he left with Foster and didn’t seeme.
I went home angry and didn’t sleep for the entire night. My bed was cold and felt hollow after just one night with Knox’s warm body beside me. That thought made me so upset, I spent the rest of the night rolling aroundon the damn couch in my livingroom.
Then, today, after waking up feeling like shit and still dragging my ass into work, I had the worst argument with my mother about all their meddling and interference. When I grabbed my purse to walk out for some fresh air, she had the nerve to tell me that as her boss, she forbade me from leaving. That’s when Iquit.
But I made the worst mistakeleaving through the front doors of this office building. The paps were waiting for me. It was only two of them, from some unknown online political paper. Those vultures had the nerve to ask about me and Knox, hurtling questions my way as they snapped their cameras in myface.
When’s the bigwedding?
Who’ll be at the engagementparty?
Where will you livetogether?
Does Senator Harrison approve of KnoxSteele?
What is Knox Steele’s real politicalaffiliation?
Are you thinking of starting a familysoon?
I ducked into another office building with a bunch of security guards in the entrance, and they left mealone.
So yeah. I’m friendless, unemployed, and about to be the subject of more media attention. I figure I mayas well take a vacation outwest.
A couple of hours later, on the plane, I lean back in my seat in first class, stuffed after eating every bit of food they offered me. Chicken l’orange, two dinner rolls, a decadent-tasting chocolate éclair, and three packs of those little mixed nuts. I have drinks too, but not alcohol. With the mood I’m in, I would get shit-faced, but I got a whiff of thealcohol on the breath of this guy in the seat across the aisle, and the smell caused my stomach to turn. Like a double flip. So, I’m playing it safe with alcohol-free virgin cocktails. Virgin daiquiris, virgin Pina coladas, even a virgin sex on the beach, which I honestly didn’t know existed. Every drink is so sugary and sweet they feel like another helping of dessert. There’s two hours left ofthe flight. Pushing my seat back all the way, I pull the blanket over my face and close myeyes.
I open my eyes to the sound of my own voice, groaning as though I’m in pain. I don’t think I was dreaming. But then I feel the fingers taping on my shoulder and look up to see the middle-aged blonde flight attendant who served me all that food and virgincocktails.
“Yes?” I groan out thequestion.
“Ma’am, are you all right? You sound like you’re in a lot ofpain.”
“I’m… I think I’m fine,” I tell her, stillgroggy.
But the loud roar from my stomach seems to disagree. A second later, the severe pain I must have been experiencing during my sleep hits me hard, and I doubleover.
“Ma’am?” she calls tome.
“I don’t thinkI’m fine,” I say, wincing in pain. I wrap my arms over my belly, hoping it will subside, but I hear a deeprumble.
Moving in a panic, I unbuckle my seat belt. “Bathroom!” I shout, and she steps aside, pointing toward the front of theplane.
I slip past her and hurry to the front. I’m so weak from the debilitating pain, that I have to hold onto each and every seat along the way. Ifinally get to the front. Thank goodness the restroom is empty. Closing the door behind me, I hustle to put down one of those seat protector paper towels. I sit, thinking I’m about to have the worst case of diarrhea in mylife.
But I’m oh so verywrong.
