The Fluke

6 - Jules

The evening is a blur. I packed, called Val to fill her in, and then I delivered my fresh farmer's market fruit and veg to a confused Peter next door. I informed him I would be gone for a few weeks. He pestered me a little bit with questions but I humoured him. I told him Val has my spare key for any emergencies as I forwarded her contact information to his phone. If he's not a complete moron he'll get the hint and give her a call.

After that it was time to try and get some sleep, which proved difficult due to all the excitement. Eventually I nodded off, then the alarm was blaring, and I was up and on my way.

The plane touches down in Palm Springs just before three o'clock. I'm angling my head to keep the palm trees in view as we land. I am so excited to get off the plane I almost fly out of my seat before the pilot turns off the seatbelt sign. So far today I have been treated like a first class lady and I'm sick to death of it. Not only was I flying first class (which was exceptional to coach, I will admit), but Spencer also arranged for a driver to pick me up and deliver me to the airport, as well as fixing me up with access to some special V.I.P. lounge he's privy to because of his Amex black card. Rich bastard.

I was ready to hug him, and then immediately pummel him. Spencer is used to a lavish lifestyle given his immense wealth, but I am not, and I find it uncomfortable to be treated as though I am. It's not as big of a deal if I'm with Spencer because he handles everything and I can just enjoy the perks without feeling the need to schmooze or politely entertain small talk with whoever. Being poked and prodded in the private lounge by the sexy masseur Spencer organized was uncomfortable. Socially. The massage was excellent once I resigned to the fact that it was happening no matter what I said.

Once we can exit the plane, I'm walking through the gate toward the terminal. I step through a set of sliding doors and am met with the warm, familiar California air which never fails to bring a smile to my face.

The Palm Springs airport uses a unique mix of indoor-outdoor space, and unlike Seattle, there is not a rain cloud in sight. I ride down the escalator that leads to baggage claim and feel my smile grow even bigger as I see the arched sign above my head, 'Welcome to Palm Springs'.

I drag my over-packed suitcase off the carousel and half expect to see a chauffeur (or Kage) wearing a fancy hat and white gloves to be waiting for me, holding an embarrassing sign with my name on it. When I see no embarrassing chauffeur, I wander toward the exit to see if Kage is waiting for me there. I only now realize Spencer gave me no instructions on where his house is or how I should get there, I just assumed someone would be here for me. I guess Brother Billionaire didn't think of everything.

I'm silently mocking Spencer when I reach the doors that will lead me to the beautiful desert I've been dreaming of all night and all morning when I'm stopped dead in my tracks. I see Spencer in all his smug, billionaire glory leaning coolly against a magnificent car. He's wearing shorts and a plain t-shirt, but I know they're not from the Gap, and I know that perfectly maintained old roadster wasn't cheap either.

The car is light blue and big. Think of what Danny Zuko was driving in Grease and paint it powder blue. Then add in some palm trees, some desert mountains, and several passersby staring as they walk along then you've got what I'm looking at.

"Welcome to Cali, baby!" Spencer pushes off the car and walks toward me with open arms. We hug when he reaches me, and after a few seconds I shove him away.

"What have I told you about smothering me with your wealth when you're not around!?" I hiss at him, pushing my suitcase toward him and walking to the passenger door.

Spencer is shaking his head, wheeling the suitcase toward the big trunk. "Is that how you greet everybody who flies you first class?"

"Yes." It's the truth because he's the only person who has ever done that.