For me, I was changed completely.
A horn blared outside. Looking out my window, I saw the taxi had arrived to take me to the airport. Zipping my bag closed, I grabbed my clutch and headed out the door.
The ride to the airport took about twenty minutes. Rifling through my purse, I pulled out the last twenty dollars I had on me. “Thank you,” I said, holding the bill out.
The driver shook his head, no, waving his hand. “You're all set, Miss. I've been paid already.”
Arching a brow, I slowly recoiled my hand. “Really?” I had called the taxi service myself, I didn't understand who could have paid for it. “By who?” I asked.
“Mr. H. He took care of it for you. Have a nice trip.”
Mr. H? Who the hell is Mr. H? That wasn't a familiar name to me. Shaking my head, I stood on the sidewalk and shut the door. Maybe he was the one who hired me? But how could he have known who I called?
Gloria wouldn't give me a damn inch on any info about the guy who hired me. No matter what I asked, she just rooted the question elsewhere.
Stepping through the doors, I approached the clerk to get my boarding pass. Gloria had set up my tickets for the flight. Seeing as how we dancers used stage names, it was important to keep my privacy.
The last thing I needed was some creep knowing my real name and becoming a stalker. It had happened to several of the girls, and that was one thing I wanted to avoid.
“Hello, welcome to Greene. Can I have your name and license please?”
Pulling my I.D. from my wallet, I handed it to the clerk. “Noella Rawlinson,” I said. My eyes drifted around the screens, watching the flights as they were listed.
It had been a long time since I'd flown anywhere. The last time I was on a plane was when I was fifteen. My family and I had gone to visit my Grandpa in Oregon. To be honest, the whole flight experience was a blurred memory.
Mixed in between my excitement and curiosity, was a fucking bag of nerves. Being on a plane, alone; it sent my stomach straight to my throat.
“Thank you,” she said, as her fingers rapidly typed against the keyboard. “All right, you're all set, you can head over to gate eleven.” Handing me a slip of paper, she smiled and pointed behind me.
Lifting my bag, I walked in the direction she'd guided me towards. The numbers hung above my head; counting down I found the terminal for my flight.
Wow, I'm the only one here. That's strange. I rested my bag down and took a seat.
I watched other people pass by, heading in all different directions. But no one else was coming to the terminal. Looking at my phone, I saw that the flight was set to depart in thirty minutes, and still no other passengers were sitting waiting to board.
“Excuse me, Miss?” A voice emerged from over my shoulder.
“Yes?” I asked, turning to see a stewardess. Her navy blue dress had a small silver plate pinned to the corner. Squinting to read it, I couldn't make out her name.
“Allie,” she said, pointing to the pin. “You can board now, the plane is ready for you.”
“Am I the only one flying today?” Arching a brow, I glanced around the empty space, confusion filling my voice.
The woman giggled as she spoke. “Well, yes. It's a private flight, Miss.”
Shifting my sight out the large tinted window, I saw a small jet parked at the end of the airbridge. “Excuse me?” I asked, not sure I heard her correctly.
“You're flying in on a private jet.” A smile spread across her face as I stood up shocked, wrinkles lifting across my forehead.
“You're kidding?” I couldn't believe it. A fucking private plane? For me?
I was numb; all the blood had drained from my face. My heart raced inside my chest; the pounding was so intense, I clutched my breast. Was this a joke? Was I really about to fly in a private jet, sent here for just me?
Gloria hadn't mentioned this, not once did she say I would be flown out in style. She had made me aware of the fact that this customer had money, but this was on a whole other level. The guy who hired me was fucking loaded.
“No, I'm not joking. But, you do need to board now. The pilot is ready.” She tugged the ticket from my fingers, reading it over and comparing it to my license. “You're all set. Enjoy your flight.”
This was incredible. My mind was twirling in disbelief, body trembling from head to toe as I walked down the bridge to the small open door at the end.
Another steward stood waiting at the entrance. “Hello, please let me take your bag,” he said, as I stepped inside.
The plane was stunning. Six leather seats, plush and shiny, filled the small cabin. A deep maroon rug spread across the floor, detailed dark wood lined the trim. I couldn't tell you what type of fancy wood was used, but the gloss and etched design told me it was expensive.