Nearby, another flight attendant smiled at her. She was wearing a black-jacketed suit that looked way fancier than anything Maylee owned. Her blonde hair was pulled into an elegant twist and she wore more makeup than Maylee. Still, she looked model beautiful. "Welcome. Mr. Verdi is inside. Can I take your things?"
"Oh, that would be lovely," Maylee said, and shrugged off her backpack. "You are so kind to offer. And my goodness gracious, you are so pretty!" It wasn't a lie-the woman was flat-out gorgeous.
She chuckled at Maylee's effusive compliment and took the bag from her. "Thank you. Follow me, and I'll show you where you can sit."
The interior of the jet was nothing like the time that she'd flown coach. Then, she'd been at the back of the plane and the ride was so bumpy that she'd felt like she'd ridden a bull all the way to NYC. They'd hit turbulence and it had given her nightmares so badly that she'd gone to the doctor for a prescription of relaxers, which were in her purse at the moment, for the next time she flew. She'd also been a middle seat, and had spent the entire terrifying flight squished between two fat businessmen, who'd looked terribly displeased at the thought of someone sitting in the middle seat. As if she could help it!
It hadn't been an experience she'd wanted to repeat. The trepidation of flying had been on her mind this morning as she'd packed her suitcase, but double time pretty much won the argument every time. She had her pills. She'd be fine.
The smiling flight attendant led her in. "The first flight will be eight hours to Heathrow. We'll refuel and then fly straight on to Bellissime."
"Eight hours? Lordamercy," Maylee said. "That's longer than my cousin Bobbie Jo's first marriage lasted."
The attendant giggled. "It is long, but the second flight is only about four hours. And this is an overnight, so you can sleep."
"Oh, I'll be too riled up to sleep," Maylee told her. And then the attendant stepped aside and Maylee got her first really good look at the private jet. "Lordamercy."
It was like something out of a movie.
Soft golden lighting filled the cabin, the ceiling striated in a decorative seashell pattern designed to make the interior seem much bigger than it actually was. There were no ridiculously crowded-and claustrophobia-making-overhead compartments here. Instead, more lights were built into the ceiling, and beautiful carpeting in a soft, pale patterned brown lined the floor of the cabin. The few seats inside the cabin were enormous, made of a buttery leather, and a pretty table jutted out from each wall, accompanied by a flat-screen TV on an arm that could be pulled out so the seated occupant could watch whatever they wanted. Maylee counted eight of these seats, and in the back, there was another door to what must have been a private room. Flowers in small vases adorned each of the tabletops in the main cabins.
This was far nicer than her apartment. Lordamercy.
"What do you think?" The flight attendant was smiling at her, clearly seeing Maylee's awe.
"It's so . . . swanky. This is where we're flying?" My goodness, they were paying her to fly in this jet? And then take a trip to Europe? Gracious, she didn't know how she'd gotten so lucky. She couldn't stop smiling, either.
The attendant laughed. "It is. Mr. Verdi is in the back room and doesn't wish to be disturbed at the moment." She inclined her head at the closed door. "Let's put down your things and I'll show you where the bathroom is. Just pick a spot."
Maylee walked through the spacious cabin, running a hand over the silky-smooth leather of each seat before selecting one in the back. She wasn't quite sure where employees were supposed to sit, but she guessed it wasn't in the front. The back was always where the roughest ride was on a plane, right? She was pretty sure the boss wouldn't want to sit there, then. Maylee picked a seat and sat down, then clasped her hands in her lap.
"This isn't like a normal flight," the attendant said. "So anything you need, you just let me know."
She patted her purse, now in the seat beside her. "I have my panic pills in here."
The attendant laughed and gave her a sympathetic look. "Afraid to fly?"
"Afraid of the crashing part," Maylee admitted. "I haven't flown much and it makes my heart race around like a chicken with its head cut off."
"Do you want a drink? I can make you a lovely cocktail."
A cocktail? "That'd be very nice of you."
She winked at Maylee. "How about a mojito?"
Maylee had never had one. How could she pass up a nice fancy drink? "That would be lovely." She pulled out her purse. "Do you want to see my ID?"
The attendant giggled again. "Not necessary. This is a private flight. I'm sure you're old enough."