The Wedding Date

Other Services Are Available (J)

A few pre-chapter notes - when there is a (J) in the title, that means it's in Joe's perspective! Don't worry, I'd never leave you hanging without the dual viewpoint ;) Also, this is the first introduction of the slightly more "adult" theme that will carry on throughout, but I'm confident it's nothing too shocking. Especially if you've seen the movie! :) Hope you've all had a good Monday!

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Joe heard his phone vibrate on the plastic arm rest he had haphazardly placed it on once they'd boarded the plane. He knew it was probably Rose checking in, reminding him of the pre-travel checklist and all the boring administrative tasks he was supposed to be focused on with his new client. But right now his mind was far from the checklist, since he couldn't seem to be bothered to tear his gaze away from the scene playing out in front of him.

"It turns into a BED?" his redhead companion asked him in a voice that was a bit louder than appropriate for the small first class cabin they'd entered, "And that flight attendant just gave me champagne?"

Joe couldn't help but chuckle at the enthusiasm radiating off of the woman who he had just met, and who he was about to spend the next week with. He took a moment to watch her when she wasn't paying attention - he had been doing that whenever he had a chance, starting with the moment she came stumbling up to the gate about an hour ago, offering to give up the upgrade to sit in the last row of the plane.

He hadn't expected that reaction, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because the women who often used First Rate Escort were the opposite of Dianne. He had lost count of how many "dates" he'd been on to office functions or family parties full of fake laughter, exuberant gesturing, and perfect appearances, down to matching nail polish and lipstick.

Dianne though...Dianne was different.

The bright red hair, the minimal make up, the colorful patterned leggings with smiley faces on them, the sudden bursts of laughter and the confidence to shoot him a sarcastic comment or two. She was unique and unashamedly herself...not to mention very naturally pretty...and he found himself wondering why she had to even call an escort service in the first place.

He watched her fiddle with the automated buttons on the armrest that turned the seat into a bed, her head rising and falling slowly behind the low plastic barrier, and he couldn't help but laugh with her as she giggled that infectious giggle.

"Do you fly like this all the time?" she paused the seat upright, turning her whole body to face him, a wide giddy smile on her face. He reached over and pushed down the top of the plastic barrier, noticing her smile get the slightest big bigger, and he grinned right back.

"No," he shook his head, "Not around Europe at least. Waste of money for short flights."

"So you DID pay for these upgrades," she pointed a finger toward him in an accusatory way, but he noticed her smile hadn't dimmed.

"No," he shook his head, thinking back to all the international flights he had been on for clients in his real job, allowing him to rack up his frequent flyer points,  "I'm not lying! I had so many points it was practically free."

"Practically?" Dianne cocked her head to the side, and he bit back another grin.

"Okay, so maybe I came up about 20 pounds short," he rolled his eyes.

She suddenly turned away him him, rustling through her bag, before brandishing her wallet - also bright red he noticed.

"20 per seat, or 20 total?" she asked, raising one of her perfectly coifed eyebrows.

"Are you kidding," he deadpanned.

"No," Dianne shot back, "I'm paying you to be here with me, it's the least I can do."