ALEX GOT HOME late that night, very late, way after I had gone to bed. I only knew he was home when he wrapped himself around me.

"Hey, baby." He moved my hair aside and kissed my neck. "I missed you."

"You did?" I opened an eye. "You're not still mad?"

"No, baby." He kissed me along my back, down my shoulder. "I'm not still mad."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He rolled me towards him and stretched my arms above my head. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

He slipped off my nightgown. "God, you're beautiful... remind me to never, ever go away."

"Never go away," I repeated.

"Okay." He kissed my lips, my neck, his hands on breasts... needless to say, I wasn't well rested when I came down for breakfast the next morning. I stumbled downstairs, dressed, but half asleep, pleasantly relaxed and a little sore.

As for Alex, he looked like he got twelve hours of sleep. Men must have some wiring that sex regenerates them or something. I grunted at him.

"Someone's a grouchy Gus," he observed with a half-smile. "Don't I get a kiss?"

I puckered him a kiss. "Coffee."

"Not until I get a real kiss." He folded his paper beside his plate and tapped his cheek. "Come on, grouchy."

Fine. I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, but he pulled me onto his lap.

"Alex! Coffee!" I took his and drank half. "Ugh. Cream."

"Yes, cream." He kissed my ear. "Now this is a good morning. I hate being away."

"I hate coffee with cream." I shimmied off his lap and poured myself a cup. "You got home late."

"We got stuck on the runway out of Heathrow." He poured himself another cup and drowned it in cream. "The meeting was a success, by the way."

I raised an eyebrow. "It was?"

He chuckled. "I know. Surprised me, too."

"But I threatened to kill his brother." I stared at him. "Shouldn't he be all - " I grabbed the butter knife and made stabbing motions " - eek-eek-eek?"

"You'd think, right?" he asked as he took the butter knife from me. "As it turns out, he hates his brother. So, it all worked out in the end." He tapped me on the nose. "Although, you might actually have to kill his brother."

"Done!" I slapped the table. "Where is he?"

"That's my little psychopath... watch the coffee, baby." He frowned as he wiped up some spilled coffee. "In all seriousness, though... I have a favor to ask. When do you go back to London?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't even graduated yet."

"Well, when you do, could you take some papers over for me?" He finished his coffee and wiped his mouth. "Nothing big, but I'd rather have you do it than a courier."

I stared at him. Alex wanted me to be a courier for him? "I thought you didn't like me working."

"I don't," he replied. "I'd prefer you at home. But if you insist... I thought it could be helpful... I mean, it would be really helpful." He couldn't have been more cool had he been carved out of ice. "It's not a big deal. You don't have to if you don't want to."

Hmm. I sipped my coffee and studied him. Amazing how many people want me to keep the job. "I don't know, Alex. How much does it pay?"

"Pay?" He glanced at me, surprised. "There's no pay... it's just papers, baby. Business filings, things like that. If you don't want to do it - ."

"I didn't say I didn't want to do it," I interrupted. "I asked how much you would pay me to do it. Time is money, buddy."

"Siobhan!" He stared back, then sighed. "Fine. I'll buy you a watch."

I curled a lip. "N'uh huh. Cashy cash only."

He rubbed his forehead. "It's not that big of a deal. I can always send them by our regular courier."

"How much does your regular courier get paid?" I asked. "Knock ten percent off of it, and we could have a deal."

He eyed me. "They get four thousand, not including airfare and lodging."

I tapped my cheek. "Hmm. $3500 to carry it, five thousand to not open and read it."

He laughed and chucked me under the chin. "I'll think about it. Get ready. I'll drive you to work. The weather's horrible."

"Is that a yes or a no?" I asked as I buttered a bagel. "I think you're getting a steal."

"I told you I'd think about it." He gestured at the door. "Come on. You can eat in the car."

I grabbed my bagel and threw on my coat. He wasn't kidding about the weather. Almost an hour, he dropped me off at the World Trade Center, a windblown wreck. Traffic was a mess. Morning rush hour, combined with a wintery mix of sleet, wind, and snow slowed everything down. I was among the last people straggling into class.

As I unbuttoned my coat, Frances turned, confusion written all over her face. "How are you still here?"

"Where else would I be?" I shrugged off my coat and looked around. Something was off. "What's wrong here?"

"Jorge's gone," Valentina blurted out, as she studied her face in a Chanel compact. "Can you believe it?" She snapped it shut and tossed it in her purse. "He was so mean. Funny, but mean. I'll miss him."

It was true. Now it was Valentina who sat opposite from me. "Wow. I'm going to miss his side eye. The guy had a good side eye." I sat down. "What did he do?"

Before I got an answer from either of them, Chelsea danced over and threw herself on my desk. "Oh. My. God. Siobhan. Did you hear? Jorge got caught banging a passenger in the first class shower!"

"Dammit, Chelsea! I wanted to tell her." Frances shot her the stink eye. "Bitch."

I looked back and forth between Chelsea and Frances. "Okay... and I care... why?"

"Because... it's so... I can't even!" Chelsea screeched, her fingers extended in that strange, emphatic way she had of pushing her hands down while talking. "They got pictures! Can you imagine? Pictures!" She looked up and saw that the Midwesterners were now in the room. "Hey y'all, did you hear about Jorge?"

She flew across the room, a gossip fairy high on her own stash. Jesus. I looked at Frances. "Okay, so, with Jorge gone, I nominated Chelsea as our new object of scorn."

"Seconded," Frances replied and stared at me. "Okay, so here's my question. Did you tell a first-class passenger you would murder his brother?"

I nodded. "Yeah. So what? His brother's a human trafficking douche."

Frances opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Wha... why... huh?"

"Yeah, I know. It's weird." I yawned. " Anyway, I need more coffee."

"So is that a yes?" Valentina stopped digging in her purse for a moment.
"I think it's a yes. Frances, you owe me $20 dollars."

Frances scowled and tossed a $20 at her. "I should have known better than to bet. So how'd you keep the job?"

I thought of the NSA guy and smiled. "Sex. Lots of sex."

Frances snorted. "Whatever."

I smiled and stretched out my legs.

"Oh, you two." Valentina poofed her hair. "You're both so funny. I'm glad you're here, Siobhan. You're tough, like a man. But not manly... well, a little manly, except for your breasts. They're very large."

I looked at my chest, then at her. "Thanks," I said with a wink. She blushed and went back to grooming herself.

Frances leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Seriously, how did you keep your job? I know you were out of here. I heard Christophe talking about it - "

Before I could answer, Ken marched into the room, clapping his hands, a panicked expression on his face. "People, people. I have big news for you. It's both good news–" he grinned "- and sad news —" he turned that smile upside down and pantomimed wiping his eyes. "The good news...no." He shook his head. "I will start with the bad news first. That way we get it all out of the way so we don't have to talk about it anymore."

He flipped around an extra desk and sat on it. "I'm sure you all know about the nor'easter?"

I looked around. We were all looking kind of blank and shaking our heads.

"Do you people watch the news?" Ken asked, flustered.

"TMZ," I heard someone mutter. I heard someone else say no. "Buzzfeed," someone else chimed in. "I read Buzzfeed. Hey, did you see the one with the which Disney princess are you? I'm Snow White!"

"I'm Rapunzel!" There was an attempt at a high five.

Ken cringed. "Well, as professional flight attendants, you should at least pay attention to the weather because it affects air travel." He pushed his bangs off his forehead. I got the feeling Ken wasn't having a good day. His nose was all shiny. "All right. Well. There's a nor'easter coming up the coast, and it's heading straight for us."

Valentina raised her hand. "What is a...how you say... nor'easter?"

"Really? Did you say how you say?" I asked her. "You speak better English than I do."

She smiled like a sphinx and flipped her hair. "No entiendo."

"Thank you for asking, Valentina," Ken replied speaking both slower and louder. " A nor'easter–" he finger-quoted "- is a winter hurricane. It brings gale force wind, ice, and snow. Sometimes a lot of snow."

I held up my hand. "When's it supposed to hit?"

"Thanksgiving." Ken bit his lip. "It will really mess up our holiday travel!" 

"Oh no!" Frances exclaimed, on cue. "That's awful!"

A girl on the other side of the yelled, "But the people!"

Soon, the whole class was in a frenzy. While that was going on, I texted Alex.

What's this about a nor'easter?

Thursday. We're evacuating.

I pursed my lips. Hello, heads up? Where to?

Amelia's home on the Hudson.

Amelia's home on the Hudson was a Belle Epoque white elephant, a mansion like the Vanderbilt's, or Astor's, or Carnegie's. It was gorgeous, but in a museum way. Can Useless come?

No. Amelia doesn't like dogs.

Oh, hell to the no. I'm taking Useless.

Siobhan, we'll talk later.

I'm taking Useless or I'm staying here. 

He didn't text back, which was good timing because the cries of outrage were starting to die down.

"I know. I know. It's horrible." Ken was reigning it back in. "When there's a storm of this magnitude, the Company has to clear the fleet out of all the affected airports and maneuver equipment all over the system." He jumped off the desk. "What this means for all of you is...and here's the bad news... but I'm sad to say...with the storm and the holiday break... and the transition into your individual flying schedules, well, we won't have our traditional graduation ceremony."

The Midwesterners all gasped and even Valentina looked askance. Frances looked at me and mouthed, "Graduation ceremony?"

I rolled my eyes at her and pointed at the handbook. No graduation ceremony meant no family to make fun of me. Yay, me.

"I know. It's horrible," Ken cried. "The graduation ceremony and after-party represented the culmination of all the hard work you put into your time here at TransGlobal. But wait. Here's the good news. The good news is... we're having it today!! Congratulations, class! You've all graduated!!"

The classroom doors burst open. Hector pushed a cart with a huge, airplane shaped cake, followed by all our instructors and the Director.

Damn.  Her again. I slunk down as low in my seat as I could go. 

The Director shot me some serious stink eye as she tap-tap-tapped her way past my desk to the front of the classroom. "So, we're kicking you out... I mean graduating you a little early. Sorry. The bottom line is that I need you working and not pretending like this is anything other than a training program. So, we will call your name, and one of your instructors will pin on your wings, and then you're off until your start date. Good luck, congratulations, whatever." She tap-tap-tapped off and out of the room.

Christophe shut the door after her then turned to us. "Okay, you guys. One more time. You graduated."

Holy shit. I graduated. I was a flight attendant.

_____ * _____ * _____ * _____ * _____

So she's graduated and is now a new, minty fresh flight attendant! 

I did make a little change with Alex, and his attitude towards her flying... something that   SallyMason1  recommended to me a while back. Alex would see talent in her, especially with how she handled Constantinov. He might be inclined to take her on as more of an apprentice than keeping her in her traditional girlfriend/wife role. Hence the courier thing. Thanks, Sal!

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think, and if you like it, please vote!

©Copyright Liz Charnes June 2018

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