Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

MARIGOLD

I took off my seatbelt and tried to settle into my seat, seeking some semblance of comfort, but it was proving to be an impossible task. The man beside me had an obnoxious way of sitting that made me wonder if he was deliberately trying to make the flight miserable for me. His elbows had spilled over onto my side of the armrest, and his habit of leaning in my direction instead of sitting straight up made me feel like I was being crowded out of my own seat.

I usually enjoyed the window seat—having a view of the clouds, a bit of space to lean against—but now I felt trapped. Claustrophobic, even. And with over eight hours of flight time ahead of me, I wasn't sure how I was going to survive.

It could always be worse, I reminded myself, but the moment the thought crossed my mind, I regretted it.

Because things did, indeed, get worse.

The girl in front of me decided to recline her seat all the way back, as if she were in her own private bedroom, oblivious to the fact that her long hair now draped over the back of the seat, hanging in front of my movie screen and nearly touching my food tray. Ew. I cleared my throat, politely trying to catch her attention.

"Excuse me," I said, hoping she'd realize how invasive her hair was being.

But instead of apologizing or even acknowledging the problem, she shot me an irritated look, rolled her eyes, and let out an exasperated huff. Like I was the one being unreasonable. I wanted to pull her hair back over the seat myself, but instead, I sat there, making myself as small as possible, praying that time would speed up and get me off this plane sooner. Maybe I could fall asleep. Oblivion sounded like a good idea.

And then the man beside me decided it was a good time to strike up a conversation.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, his voice oozing with overconfidence. "Where you from?"

Oh God, no. Not this.

"New York," I replied curtly, hoping he'd take the hint and leave me alone.

"New York, huh? City girl, I like that." He leaned even closer, crowding me and making me very, very uncomfortable. I really didn't want to be a pain in the ass, but I didn't think I could tolerate the guy for the next eight hours. "What brings you to Mallorca? Meeting someone special?"

I could practically feel his breath on my neck. I didn't think I was a difficult person. I was shy but liked to be friendly.

But this was too much. The day had started off rough and now my patience was wearing thin. I glanced out the window, wishing I could escape. Maybe I could fake a medical emergency and get moved to a different seat?

Get me out of here.

"A friend." My voice was tight, and a normal person would have picked up on my irritation.

But he was not that kind of person, which promised to make the trip absolutely miserable.

Astrology.

I was going to start learning about astrology. I could have prepared myself for this if I knew what my horoscope said. I didn't bring my headphones. I meant to, but in my rush to get out of the house, I left them sitting on the table.

That was a mistake I was going to be paying for.

Just as I was considering hiding in the bathroom, a flight attendant with a kind smile approached, her presence like a godsend. "Miss?"

"Yes?" I responded. Maybe she had sensed my desperation. Maybe I had a guardian angel.

"You've been randomly upgraded to first class. Would you like to follow me?"

It was like the clouds parted, and the angels started singing. Without a second thought, I practically climbed over the man beside me, using the chair in front of me for balance. In the process, my hand landed in the girl's hair and yanked it a bit.

"Ow!" she hissed, her tone sharp and accusatory, like a cat that had just been stepped on.

"Maybe you should have had some manners, and this wouldn't have happened," I shot back, feeling bolder now that I didn't have to sit there anymore.

"Hey, what about me? Where's my upgrade?" The man that had been hassling me was trying to jump on my good luck.

"I'm sorry, sir. We only have the one seat and this woman's ticket was randomly selected."

"Just my luck," he muttered under his breath.

I yanked my bag down from the overhead bin and followed the attendant to first class. It felt like I won the lottery. The stars had aligned and saved me from the agony I'd been preparing myself for.

As I entered the first-class cabin, I couldn't help but marvel at the difference. The seats were wide and plush, the atmosphere calm and luxurious. It was a different world than the cramped chaos of economy.

The flight attendant led me to my new seat. "Here you go," she said with a bright smile.

I couldn't believe my eyes. My new seat just happened to be right beside Mr. Hot & Rich, who was grinning up at me like he owned the damn airplane.

Of course, it would be him.

He had two champagne glasses on his armrest table, along with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. My seat faced his at a diagonal angle, allowing for plenty of legroom and the option to recline into a bed if I wanted to. There was even a half-wall partition between us for privacy, should I need it.

That would have come in handy with my prior seating situation. I supposed the commonfolk in the cheap seats weren't entitled to their own space. We were thrown together like cattle, expected to eat our dry-ass pretzels and drink our flat sodas without a word of complaint.

I eyed my new seatmate suspiciously as I sat down. "Was this really a random upgrade?"

He winked at me, a playful glint in his eye. "It can be whatever you want it to be, sweetheart."

Sweetheart .

My first instinct was to tell him not to call me that, but he was still less creepy than the last guy I'd sat next to. The sight of the champagne glasses and the thought of a long, relaxing flight ahead also put me in a much more forgiving mood. Maybe I did deserve a bit of indulgence. And attention from a drop-dead gorgeous stranger totally out of my league? Well, that could be a fun way to pass the time during the trip. I could pretend to be a princess up here, sitting with my prince.

"Thank you," I said.

"I didn't do anything."

"Sure." I smiled. "It's just an amazing coincidence."

He poured a glass of champagne and handed it to me with a smile that could melt butter. I hesitated for just a moment before accepting it and raising the glass to my lips.

"To a relaxing flight," he said, clinking his glass against mine.

"A relaxing flight," I echoed and took a sip. The champagne was crisp and refreshing, a perfect start to what was already shaping up to be a flight to remember.

The seat was comfortable like an expensive Lazy Boy. I couldn't imagine flying like this all the time. It was like planting my ass in a fluffy cloud.

I leaned back and let out a sigh of contentment. Mr. Hot & Rich chuckled, his eyes flashing with amusement at my obvious enjoyment of the luxury. "I guess coach wasn't treating you well?"

"You have no idea," I said with a shudder, still feeling annoyed by the man who had sat next to me. For the first time since boarding, I felt like I could finally breathe. The price of my ticket suddenly seemed to be worth it.

I reclined my seat, testing out the bed function. My surprise must have shown on my face because he laughed again, a warm sound that was slowly becoming more and more endearing to me. "I'd say that's a bit more comfortable than the usual airplane seats, don't you think?"

" A bit is an understatement," I replied, sinking deeper into the plush seat. I could feel myself melting into it, every tension and worry from before evaporating. The champagne might have been helping with that.

I sat my chair up. "This is wild. How are you guys treated like kings and the rest of us get to fly like peasants?"

He grinned. "Money."

"Ah," I said, chuckling lightly. "The root of all evil."

"And the solution to all problems," he countered with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile. His words were laden with an inexplicable charm that was hard to resist. "I mean, it did get you up here."

"I'm going to assume you fly first class all the time."

He grinned and took a drink of his champagne. "You're going to be very upset when I tell you the truth."

"I don't know why I would care," I said with a shrug. "I don't know you. I have no reason to be angry at your truth."

He leaned over just a little. "I don't typically fly first class."

I wasn't sure why he thought that would make me upset.

"I fly private," he said, leaning in close. "The family jet is in the shop, so to speak. So, I'm slumming it here." He smiled and lowered his voice to a whisper. "To me, the people in first class are the peasants."

I stared at him, trying to decide if he was joking or not. But I could see he was being serious.

"Well, this must be just miserable for you," I said with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

His laughter filled the space between us. "Absolutely dreadful," he said, playing along. "How ever will I survive?" He mocked a dramatic swoon, causing me to burst out laughing. "It's why I'm going to make sure my glass is never empty."

His eyes sparkled in amusement as he watched me laugh. We lingered in that moment for a few seconds before he raised his glass again. "To surviving the hardships of first class."

"I'll drink to that," I said, clinking my glass against his.

The flight attendant came by a minute later. "Can I get your dinner orders?"

"We were just about to take a look," Mr. Hot & Rich said. He reached for the menu on his side and passed it over to me. "Ladies first."

I accepted the menu from his hand, our fingers brushing for a brief moment. This close, his scent wafted over me, spicy and masculine, making my heart beat faster than it should. I straightened my back and cleared my throat before opening the menu.

The selection was mind-blowing. From duck madeira to filet mignon—these were meals I'd only seen in high-end restaurants. Wondering how they managed to cook such dishes mid-flight, I glanced at Mr. Hot & Rich, who was watching me with an amused smile. "Having trouble deciding?"

"More like trying to wrap my head around the opulence of it all," I admitted, scanning the menu again. I looked up at him. "What do you recommend?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "The salmon is always a good choice. The few times I've had it, they did a good job."

I nodded, handed the menu back to him, and told the flight attendant about my choice. He ordered the same thing, and the attendant left us alone with our champagne.

I was a little worried I might find myself never wanting to go back to coach. It was very easy to get used to the high life.

"So, is private even better than this?" I asked.

"Oh, in so many ways. By comparison, this is like riding a city bus." He smiled and leaned back into the plush seat. "It's like comparing a hotel room to your own home. In private, you have all the comfort and convenience that you can't get here. There are no restrictions, no rules to follow, and rather than having to share the space with anyone else, you have it all to yourself. It's pure freedom ."

"I can only imagine," I said, smiling and shaking my head. "Well, thank you for bumping me up here. It may not be up to your royal standards, but I really appreciate it. I'm sure this will be my one chance, and I plan on savoring every moment of it."

His eyes met mine. "As do I."