Page 2 of Terms of the Flight

I threw both hands up. “Drop it!”

She let it go, and the silk floated down like it had all the time in the world.

I didn’t.

I jumped, snatched it out of the air, and kept moving toward my Monte Carlo—the same loud, temperamental car that announced me before anybody ever saw me coming. She was cute when she wanted to be, but this morning, I needed her to be dependable.

I slid behind the wheel, shoved the key into the ignition, and turned.

Nothing.

Well, not nothing. She gave me a weak little purr, like she was thinking about embarrassing me.

“No ma’am,” I whispered, gripping the wheel. “Not today, Shelby. We don’t have time for the drama today.”

I had clients with more money than patience waiting on a Premier Wings flight, a coordinator who watched time like it owed her child support, and a fragrance brand I was trying to build between takeoffs and touchdowns.

Being late wasn’t an option.

Not when this job paid my bills.

Not when Stamped by Khaleya was still more dream than empire.

And definitely not when I was one bad day away from remembering luxury only looked easy from the outside.

Soon enough, Shelby stubbornly purred to life. I leaned forward and kissed the steering wheel a few times before slipping on my cheetah-print shades. Then I peeled out of my parking lot.

I’m sure I broke almost every rule of the road, but at this moment, I didn’t give a damn. Twenty minutes earlier than I should have made it to work, I was pulling into employee parking. I barely parked my car good before hopping from the front seat. I rushed to my backseat to grab my bag.

Then I leaned down to check my appearance once more in the window, to make sure I was up to par. Satisfied, I rushed toward the employee entrance and nearly knocked Amber on her ass.

I gripped my chest as I slowed down.

“Running late, I see,” she commented with a soft smile.

“Girl, I spent too much time editing damn content last night.”

Amber nodded as she walked around me.

“Speaking of content, I hope one of those videos was on how to navigate these damn dating apps. I don’t know how you seem to always find the men you do on them.”

I laughed with a shake of my head; the girlies made it more difficult than it needed to be. I kept walking toward the door and looked over my shoulder in her direction.

“The trick is to work on those hard passes, my girl. You can’t be open to any and everyone. Which is why you’re catching so many damn frogs. But you’re giving me ideas—the girls in my comments have been asking for the same thing.”

“It’s a sign. But have a safe trip!” she said while waving.

I waved back and rushed inside to check in. I’d done this a million times before, getting my workday started. I made sure I had my work credentials and passport, then made my way seamlessly through the checkpoint.

I said a silent thanks to God that I worked for Premier Wings, when James, the ground handler, walked over to grab my luggage to place it beneath the plane. I then made sure my scarf was tied around my neck and made my way over to the crew lounge.

The moment I walked inside, Brena, the flight coordinator, tilted her head, then looked down at her watch.

“You know normal folks just call out if they’re going to be running this late.”

I smirked and shrugged as I took the flight schedule from her.

“Well, normal people don’t have a social media base that will have their head if they don’t get their daily dose of Stamped by Khaleya.”