Page 3 of Terms of the Flight

Brena giggled. “Touché. You do have the folks in a chokehold.”

“I try my best, but any allergies on this one?” I asked.

“Nope, but he likes his itinerary ready by the time wheels are up for takeoff. Oh, and a fresh cold bottle of Fiji the moment he walks on board.”

I nodded. “Got it. Well, let me head over so I can make sure everything is in place before they get here.”

“This one is very particular, Leya, and he doesn’t like unnecessary conversation.”

I shrugged with a smile. “Good. I charge extra for charm, anyway.”

Brena smiled, then looked down at her schedule before looking back up at me.

“I hear you, girl. Before you go, when is your next drop? I’m running out of Butterfly Dreams.”

Nothing made me smile more than when someone spoke on my oils. I was practically in a relationship with Stamped by Khaleya, my fragrance line, and it was the healthiest one I’d ever been in.

“It’s coming, but I need a little more time and funds to make it happen.”

“Alright, well, you make sure I’m the first to know when you do get it back in.”

I smiled and headed for the door. “I got you.”

I passed a few more of my coworkers who were getting ready for their flights, then made my way onto the jet to prep the aircraft. I made sure nothing was left behind from the previous flight, and that the meal for the flight was prepped and ready to go. Then I followed Mr. Blackwell’s must-haves down to the letter.

This was going to be a long flight if his requests were anything to go by.

A bottle of Fiji water, chilled but never iced.

His itinerary printed, uploaded, and placed in the left pocket of his seat before takeoff.

No unnecessary conversation unless he initiated it.

I couldn’t help the obnoxious laugh that slipped out. This man was practically a serial killer, and I’m supposed to be locked in with him for a few hours. I read over the notes twice, and it didn’t make me any less irritated.

But this wasn’t anything new with rich men or women. They were either too friendly or allergic to joy. It seemed as if Mr. Blackwell had been vaccinated against all things that brought joy, if this sheet had anything to say about it.

I chose not to dwell on it a moment longer and got started with his list of requirements. Once I was positive I had gotten everything right down to the letter, I decided I was free to make a little content. I usually liked to show me setting up the cabin.

So for aesthetic purposes only, I rushed to my small purse I’d brought aboard, then set up my tripod. I leaned forward to glance out of the window as the pilots worked in the cockpit. I needed to make sure I still had a little more time before Mr. Dictator showed up.

I stepped back until the Premier Wings logo on my scarf sat perfectly in frame without giving too much away.

The girls loved a little mystery. They did not need to know my exact location, my client’s business, or the fact that I was filming this between chilled Fiji water and pretending rich people didn’t have me questioning their childhoods.

I tapped record and lifted the small roller bottle beside my face.