Megan returned a few minutes later with her drink. “Here you go.” It looked like a Sprite with some chewed-up green leafy crap in it. Okay. Not quite as glamorous as she’d imagined.
Maylee took the glass. “You’re so thoughtful. Thank you.” She sipped it and smiled at Megan. “Wonderful.” It was pretty good, actually. She kept drinking as she settled into her seat.
As the minutes passed, the cabin remained empty. Maylee tried to finish her drink quickly, so she could be done before they took off, but it seemed that they weren’t in any particular kind of hurry. They were just . . . sitting here, waiting on Mr. Verdi. Maylee fished a piece of ice out of her glass and chewed on it, sucking the last of mojito off the cube.
Megan eventually returned and snagged Maylee’s glass with a smile. Before Maylee could protest, she was pouring another. Well, she could drink another one of those. It was pretty tasty with all that mint. The plane began to taxi down the runway just as she started to drink her new one, and Maylee chugged it, trying to finish it before they took off. That was just polite, right?
By the time she’d sucked down that second mojito, she was feeling a little . . . tipsy. Nothing ridiculous, just a little floaty and loose. It was probably because she’d drank them so fast. The plane stopped again, and waited.
Maylee peered out the window. She couldn’t see anything except the night sky and the lights on the runway. Why weren’t they getting into the air?
The attendant floated past again, and as Maylee watched, Megan went to the door at the back of the plane and knocked. “Ready to leave whenever you are, Mr. Verdi.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just swung back around to Maylee and smiled. “Another drink?”
“Oh, no,” Maylee said. “I couldn’t possibly. Thank you, though.”
Megan took the glass from her. “Go ahead and buckle up. We’ll be leaving as soon as Mr. Verdi is finished with his meeting.”
Maylee fumbled with her belt, snapping it at her waist and then tightening it. Anxiety began to gnaw at the pit of her stomach. She’d be meeting rich Mr. Verdi, and they’d be flying—both things that made her very, very nervous. Combined with the drinks, she rather felt like she was going to throw up.
Time for her pills.
She fished the bottle out of her purse and peered at the label, uncertain of how many to take. One or two? There was a bright yellow sticker on the side that said DO NOT MIX WITH ALCOHOL but it was a mite too late for that, wasn’t it? She hurriedly popped one into her mouth, dry swallowing it.
Five minutes later, she felt nice.
So, so nice.
Mellow.
All floaty and wonderful.
Mmmm.
In a pleasant haze, she watched as Megan buckled herself in at the far end of the cabin and they both waited for Mr. Verdi to appear. Maylee blinked slowly, and that was rather fun, so she blinked again, watching her eyelashes descend.
Wow. Who knew eyelashes were so interesting?
“We might be another minute,” Megan said to her. “Can I get you anything else?”
Maylee beamed at her and gave her a thumbs up. One hardly seemed to convey how good she was feeling, so she thrust her other one into the air, too. “I’m wonderful. So, so wonderful.”
And she wagged her thumbs at the woman.
The smile on the attendant’s face faltered a little in its sincerity. “Um. All right. Just let me know if you need anything.”
Maylee thought for a moment, not an easy feat given the alcohol and pills. Then, she said, “Knitting.”
“I’m . . . sorry? I don’t think I caught that.”