Up for Love in London Read Free Page B

or
regular?”
    “Now, that’s a
good question. If I wanted to sleep, I’d choose decaf. But as the
captain says we’re landing a half hour early…”
    “We are?” Damn, I must have missed
his announcement while chatting to Olivia.
    “… so I’ll take whatever’s hot.”
    Now Charles is
the one being obliging. I smile and fill a cup for him. I must be
feeling better because I worry that my teary mascara makes me
resemble a raccoon. A good sign, but not a great look.
    ~
    The breakfast
service is busy for everyone and I barely have time to change into
my regular high heels before I hear the landing gear lock into
position. Richard and I press back in our crew seats, relaxing
slightly only after the wheels meet the runway. Smooth, he says
under his breath, then picks up the intercom handset and begins his
arrival announcements. Even though we’ve been working through the
night, we both manage to put a smile in our voices and on our
faces. Richard’s weather report confirms what’s clearly visible
through the windows – scattered clouds and rain.
    ~
    The first class
cabin usually deplanes quickly but Charles seems to linger, slowly
collecting his bags and adjusting his tie. He’s remarkably
fresh-looking for a guy who’s spent the night in an aircraft but
maybe he’s the wrinkle-proof type. I start to wonder if he looks
that good every morning.
    As I dash down
the stairs to the crew bus, I’m looking forward to a nap, until I
remember that Jim will be there and the long drive downtown will
offer plenty of opportunity for conversation. Should I yawn and
fake tiredness? Not hard to do. After using the last of my energy
for the breakfast service, I’m exhausted, physically and mentally.
Rehashing the situation won’t make it change. Brad was wrong for me
but it’s still a blow to my ego. Being in the mood to flirt with
Charles tells me that my heart is mending and I could be ready to
move on.
    Jim is
stretched out in the last row and I decide to sit in the front, a
signal that I don’t feel like chatting. A fine mist is falling from
a grey sky and the rhythmic swoop swoop of the bus’s windshield
wipers soon puts me to sleep.

    CHAPTER 3 ~ Loving London
    It’s almost 9 a.m. when I awake
with a jolt in front of the hotel. I haven’t been here for a while
and the building seems to have been renovated. Our London crew
hotel has had several owners since I’ve been flying and the latest,
Concord Group, appears to be the classiest.
    On either side
of the revolving doors, boxwood, magnolia leaves and spruce boughs
spill out of oversized planters. The lobby has completely been
redone in a stylish mix of classic and modern European, with a
black granite reception desk, checkerboard marble floors and
silver-grey walls.
    The only thing
remaining from the past is a round mahogany table with pawed feet,
which holds a towering all-white arrangement of fragrant lilies and
peonies.
    I
ask if there are any vacancies on the 11 th floor. They’re standard rooms
but they all have a stunning view of the park and are also further
away from the noise of the traffic circle below. I like to sleep
with the windows open for some fresh air after a flight. But
nothing is available. The receptionist plays with the computer, and
then converses with the manager. I’m starting to feel frustrated
and regret making a special request. After making plans to meet at
six at the bar, the rest of the crew has dispersed and I’m still in
the lobby.
    They finally sort something out. “Your key, Madame,” the clerk
says in a low voice. I almost snatch it from her hand and stomp
over to the elevator. When I realize I need to insert the key card
to access the 12 th floor, I know I’m in for a pleasant surprise. It’s
every flight attendant’s dream to stay in a fabulous hotel room and
I think mine might come true today.
    The elevator
door quietly opens onto the Concord Executive Floor. Charcoal
tone-on-tone damask wallpaper adorns the top of