Melanie normally arrived with the rest of the crew to the aircraft first in order to get things ready for the passengers. But today, she was escorted like royalty to the steps of the Drummond Family's personal jet. It was all she could do to prevent her head from spinning as Alex put out his hand like the perfect gentleman to help her down from the runway vehicle. He smiled and nodded for her to go first and she felt a flush of self-consciousness. She would have to mount the steps one by one with him following close behind her, getting a front row view of her rear tightly packaged into her flight attendant's skirt. She wished she didn't have to wear work clothes for this. These days it felt like she was never out of the uniform since she worked every flight she could in order to barely cover her rent and expenses.
Just so this rich playboy can have his private jets, she thought. Then pay you over $12,000 for one single trip.
She could feel him following behind her.
I hope you're enjoying yourself. She thought.
She needed to stay focused. The last thing she wanted to do was totter over and trip up the steps. How charming would that be? Nevertheless, she couldn't help but put a little sway into her hips as she carefully mounted higher.
He's the boss after all, might as well give him what he wants. Somehow, the thought was exciting to her. This powerful man behind her, the owner of this sleek jet and employer of everyone at Drummond Airlines was her boss, and she was going to serve him for the next nine hours like a palace slave.
I need to get some air and come back down to earth. She thought. Most likely, all he wanted was a bag of salted peanuts with a seltzer and she just happened to be the only available employee to serve him on his South Pacific jaunt. He had probably bedded hundreds of beautiful girls and plenty of flight attendants among them. He was way out of her league and even if they did get involved, it wouldn't be for long. Probably only long enough for him to 'do' her and then move on.
But she wasn't that kind of girl.
No way. Just earn your money, pay the nursing home bill, and then get back to reality again.
So then why was the highly improbable thought of something happening between them exciting her so much?
This flight threatened to drive her crazy. It was going to be one long nine-hour stretch.
She was almost at the last step when her footing went and she felt herself slip backwards. For a moment she panicked, fearing where she might land, combined with the indignity and the embarrassment. She was a flight attendant for God's sake. How many sets of air stairs had she climbed over the last six years? Hundreds, maybe thousands, and never a slip on any of them. And now, just when Mr. Super-hunk Gorgeous Billionaire who also happened to be her boss's, boss's, boss's, boss is right behind her, she keels over like an idiot.