I could literally observe the world still around me, I could hear each individual hustle and bustle of the airport, I could distinctly hear the blood gushing in my veins, as I fearfully waited for his reaction.

I was ready to be blasted upon, ready to be hit, but nothing came. He just sat on his seat and looked at me as if I had pierced a dagger through him.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat (again) and finally spoke.

"Do you not wish to know what job I am offering?"

"Of your maid?" I asked.

He chuckled automatically and shook his head as if I were a child.

"No", he said. "My girlfriend".

My vision started blurring and my head started reeling. I could feel the bile rise up my throat.

I jumped out of my seat and made a dash for the restroom.

***

"Better?"

I simply nodded, holding on to the marbled sink top for support.

"Let's get you something to eat", he said.

"No", I croaked out. "I don't want to eat".

"You must. You look like you haven't eaten anything in weeks!"

He held me by my arm as I struggled to walk straight.

"Uggh", I cried in pain as his grip grew tighter.

"Sorry!"

He loosened his grip on my arm and passed his right hand around my waist, to support my full weight.

He sat me down on the seat as he spoke something to the young anxious looking man.

"Are you comfortable here?" he asked, concerned.

I nodded.

A headache was beginning to form and I could barely keep my eyes open. Puking my guts out had drained me off of all energy.

As I had almost dozed off, a plate of food was brought before me.

"Have it", Christopher said.

"I can't", I resisted, moving my head away and clutching onto my stomach. "The smell is awful".

"It's chicken soup. Have it or you'll feel worse".

I sat up on the seat as carefully as I could, but my joints pained. Taking the bowl of soup in my hands, I started sipping into it slowly.

It tasted like heaven.

"Where are you travelling to?" 

"New York", I mumbled.

"Of course you are, genius. Where in New York?"

The spoon stops halfway as I cannot put it into my mouth.

"I don't know", I finally answer.

"Excuse me?"

Sighing, I repeat- "I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?!"

I place the spoon in the bowl and hand it back to him.

"Have it", he urges.

"No I'm full".

He sighs and then places it on the table before us.

"I mean that I do not know where I'm going. I'm just going to go there and look for a job and place to stay."

He looks at me incredulously.

"You mean to tell me that you're travelling from Greece to America all on your own, without a place to stay?"

I nod.

"Passengers flying to New York please be ready for boarding".

"Come let me help you with it", he extended his hand and picked up my luggage for me.

Once on board, we looked for my seat and then he went to look for his own.

I was dozing off again, when someone nudged me.

I jolted back in shock.

"Chill, it's just me Athena".

"What are you doing here?"

"Exchanged seats with this dude".

"And why did this dude do that?"

"Who would refuse a first class seat?" he smirked.

I rolled my eyes. Of course.

Then suddenly realisation hit me!

"Hey, how do you know my name?"

He chuckled.

"Your ticket, silly".

My mouth formed an 'O' in surprise.

"Will you be okay travelling business class?"

He put off his shoes, reclined his seat slightly, undid his tie and then settled comfortably on his seat.

"I don't always travel first class".

"Hard to believe", I said, reclining my seat slightly lower, and turning towards him.

His eyes were closed but there was a small smile gracing his lips.

"I usually travel by our jet".

Of course.

"So you haven't answered me yet".

"I told you I need to look for a place".

The hostess arrives to serve drinks and checks Christopher out, not so subtly.

"What can I get you, sir?" she asks, almost seductively.

"Some scotch please. Thank you", he replies, dismissively.

The woman turns back and literally jogs out as if I don't even exist.

Highly unprofessional.

"Not about that. About the job", he says.

"What about it? What kind of a job does 'being a girlfriend' mean?"

He sighs and sits up on his seat, facing me.

"Listen this is highly confidential information, but I need your help".

"Go on. I'm listening".

The hostess comes back with a glass of scotch for him.

"Anything else that you need, sir?"

He sips his scotch before replying.

"You need something?" he asks me.

I shake my head.

"Could we please have some privacy then?"

Poor woman, her face fell, but she nodded and left us alone.

"My father is planning on retiring in about five years from now, and he wishes for me to take over".

"Isn't that implied, since you're the natural heir?"

He nods while sipping into the glass.

"I am, but the board doesn't think I am capable".

"Is it because of the drinking?"

He sighs.

"I am not an alcoholic Athena. I was just in bad company when in college, and some photographs of some parties got leaked, and then the media just framed an image of me!"

I kept quiet, not knowing how to react.

"So you're not a womaniser?"

"I have been with a lot of women, but I do not use them. We have a mutual understanding of what we want and what we can offer."

I stare at him shocked.

"You sound like it's a business arrangement!"

He ignored me.

"Some women just went up and   made a statement to the media that I used them and then offered them money, and what crap!"

"So you didn't?" I ask, unsure.

Ignored me again.

"Since I need to take over the company, I will have to convince the board that I have changed. We're flying to New York to meet my PR team. You met Xavier?"

"The young guy with you?"

His nose scrunched up.

"He is thirty six. Married and with three kids. He's not young".

I laughed out loud.

"Thirty six is pretty young. How young are you? Fifteen?"

"Twenty-six".

I nod and look outside the window.

Flights have always felt exhilarating. The feeling of being above everyone else, of being unattainable, is so freeing.

White clouds surround us like a blanket of pure white cotton. It's like entering a different world, a world of your dreams.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I remember my first flight experience with mum and dad.

"My PR team is working hard to make a mark for me in the business world, but what we need to show to the world is that, I am settling."

I wipe at my tears before facing him.

"Why not look for a real girlfriend then?"

He looks at me for a long moment before moving his hands through his hair.

"I do not want to settle."

That is confusing.

"Then why lie to the world?"

He sighs and then lies back on his seat.

"For some godforsaken reason, these old souls feel that getting married or even having a serious girlfriend is the only way to show that you are a responsible and mature man and can handle an empire!"

"Are you?"

He looked at me confused.

"Responsible and mature? Capable of handling an empire?"

He laughed.

"I am a gold medalist in business studies from Harvard. Business is in my blood. A woman cannot prove my expertise!"

I smile.

"Why don't you say this to your parents?"

"I cannot. They have refused to speak with me until I clean my act".

"How are they going to feel when they know that I'm not your real girlfriend?"

He smiles.

"So that's a yes then?"

That sneaky guy.

"No. Hypothetically, if I were to say yes, then how would that work out?"

The smile never leaves him.

"Hypothetically, if you say yes, then no one knows the truth other than the both of us and my PR team. And Xavier. He is my agent and best friend."

I nod.

I look outside the window and sigh.

I have left home and travelling to god knows where. I have no job and shelter.

Here I have one of the richest men in the world offering me a job as his girlfriend. I get money and a place to stay. What do I have to lose anyway?

Right?

On second thoughts, he didn't answer if the news about all those women is true or not.

__________

It's Saturday and I have updated as promised! I hope you like it!

Keep reading, voting, commenting and following!