Once a Marine Read Free

asphalt, and waited for Shari to exit the car.
    Shari flung the mink jacket to her. “Take this and my makeup bag and put them on the plane.” She slid off the seat and offered her hand to Rafael.
    BD approached the stairs of the aircraft. The mechanic smiled. “Evening, miss. Do you have any other luggage?”
    “Yes, there are three bags in the trunk of the car. Do you mind getting them?”
    He made a small salute with two fingers to the bill of his baseball cap. “Not at all, part of the job. Go on in and make yourself comfortable.”
    “Oh, I’m not—” He was already halfway to Rafael’s car, so she shrugged and stomped up the stairs with Shari’s mink and makeup bag. If the woman thought she was flying to Hawaii with her tonight, she was nuts.
    The executive jet’s luxurious interior shone with sleek paneling, deep pile carpeting, and indirect lighting. Two first-class reclining seats sat on each side, facing one another, separated by a small table. Against the wall, magazine racks containing the most recent publications were within easy reach of the seats. When she set Shari’s case on one of the tables she noticed today’s Wall Street Journal and the latest Vogue with Shari’s face on the cover.
    BD had read the Vogue article that morning at breakfast. The feature story—Grayson Designs. Shari’s parents had been interviewed at the studio soon after Thanksgiving. They talked about the spring collection, the same collection revealed today at the Beverly Wilshire, just in time for Christmas shoppers.
    In the article, Whitney and Norah announced their plan to elevate their only daughter, Shari, to Chief Operating Officer of Grayson Designs. After all, Shari had grown up in Grayson’s design studio, workrooms, and business office. She’d been the face of the company since she first modeled the winter line, the summer she turned thirteen.
    As Shari’s personal assistant she would move up the ladder with her. BD was to assume management of the international marketing department, where she’d have a private office with her own secretary. Shari, a huge pain in the nether regions, did recognize BD’s value to the future success of the company. Shari had told BD to expect a nice raise and more autonomy.
    The mechanic stepped inside with two of Shari’s bags. He opened the clasps on the wardrobe and hung it in a small closet behind the cockpit. He tucked the other bag behind the first passenger seat.
    BD made to deplane when Shari and Rafael boarded, the mechanic in their wake with the large suitcase. She stepped back into the cabin to allow him to place the last piece of Shari’s luggage inside.
    Rafael guided Shari by the elbow to the first seat on the left side of the craft. “How about a glass of champagne while you wait? It’ll take a few minutes to go through flight check with the tower before we’re clear for departure.”
    Without waiting for a reply he stepped over to the glass-lined bar and opened the cork on the bottle chilling on the countertop. He filled two crystal flutes, turned and handed one to Shari. He held the other aloft. “Miss Beatty? Please have a seat and enjoy some champagne. We’ll be underway pronto.”
    BD shook her head. “No thanks, I’m just about to—”
    Shari turned to face her. “Oh, for crying out loud, stop fidgeting and sit down. One drink won’t kill you.” She took the glass from Rafael’s hand and put it on the table in front of BD. “Sit. Relax.”
    With a sigh, BD brushed past Rafael on her way to the table. She leaned toward him. “It’s B period, D period. In pilot talk that’s, Bravo Delta. The last name is James. BD James. Got it?”
    He tilted his head. “Your parents had a way with words.” He gave her a dark-eyed wink. “You’ll have to give me the skinny on your name one day.”
    “Not likely.” God, she was beginning to sound as rude Shari.
    She flopped into her seat and reached for the champagne. She glanced at her watch. She had a