Chapter 2
"Flight number 105 to New York now boarding."
This is it. I am finally going to New York. It has been 2 weeks since I found out I was going to New York, and let me tell you, they have been the busiest 2 weeks of my life.
Gorgeous outfit, fab heels, bright smile, I board the plane, and take my place next to window (first class), and place my carry-on on my food tray. The flight attended brings me a champagne flute, brimming with the bubbly drink, and I take it, delicately sipping it, giggling when the bubbles tickle the tip of my nose.
"Move." I look up to see who is talking, seeing that it is a stubby man in a business suit
"No can do, sir. This is my seat." I speak politely, deciding to act mature about the situation, but it seems as if old guy over here has a different idea.
"Yeah, maybe you should check your ticket, because mine says you are in my seat." I pull my ticket out of my bag, double-checking that I am in the right seat. I am.
"No sorry, this is my seat. It says so on my ticket. Your seat it right here." I sarcastically pat the chair next to me, before turning away. Causing a scene does not sound fabulous, and I don't plan on it.
"Well," I cut him off, before he can get anyone else's attention. There is already a man, about my age (21) watching us with a smirk on his face. Nothing to see here, buddy.
"Sir, I advise you sit in your seat. We both know I am in the right spot, and you will have to sit in the seat next to me eventually. If you continue to argue the point, I am going to make this a very long flight for you. Understood?" I send him one more threatening glare, ignoring the young man's snickers, before putting my earphones in, and closing my eyes, trying to sleep through the long flight.
.....
After hopping off the plane, stretching my legs, and collecting my black and white polka dot bag from the baggage claim, I try to look around for a person holding up a sign with my name on it. I finally spot a beautiful woman with black hair and olive skin, and after a quick double-take, I recognise her as Christina Ryan. I speed-walk over to her, feeling giddy with excitement, and embrace her with a hug.
"Oh Anna, darling, you're even more beautiful in person!" I happily accept her compliment, before pulling away from the hug, and adjusting my bag on my shoulder. Christina's phone buzzes loudly, and she frowns at it, before quickly typing something on it and shoving it back into her Prada bag.
"Ah, my nephew just said he is not coming home with me. He is going out with his friends to dinner."
"Nephew? I thought you told me you didn't have any siblings?" I specifically remember her telling me that she is an only child, and that when she starts having children, she wants 2, as she didn't like being an only child, and she didn't want her kids to feel the same way she did.
"Oh no, he is my husband's sister's kid. But he still visits me constantly, always coming to see me at work. I have known him since he was knee high." She smiles, before shaking away the memories she was having of her young nephew.
"Anyway, why don't we go home and get ready for tonight? We are going to this really nice place for some drinks. Just close friends and family. I want them to meet you." She smiles as she takes my bag from my hand and wheels it out to her black convertible. Once we are buckled into the expensive car, she pulls out of the parking lot, and speeds off towards her home.
