“Which worked, obviously,” he adds as he tips his glass towards me.
“Hmm.” I sip my drink in disgust. “Just a little.”
“What did she look like?”
“Long bleached-blonde hair and huge silicone lips and boobs and eyelashes and fake tan and everything I’m not.”
“Hmm.” He listens intently.
“Like Backseat Barbie on crack.”
He chuckles. “Everyone loves a Backseat Barbie.”
I look over at him in disgust. “This is where you should probably tell me that all men hate Backseat Barbies, Jim. Don’t you know anything about polite plane conversation etiquette?”
“Obviously not.” He frowns as he considers my statement. “Why would I do that?”
I widen my eyes toi accentuate my point. “To be nice.”
“Oh, right.” He frowns as if bracing himself to lie. “Emily...all men are repulsed by Backseat Barbies.”
I smile as I tip my glass to him. “Thank you, Jim.”
“Although...” he pauses for a moment. “If the give good head...”
What the hell?
I snort my champagne up my nose and choke. That’s the last thing I ever expected to hear come out of his mouth. “Jim,” I splutter as it sprays everywhere.
He laughs as he grabs his napkins and hands them over, and I wipe my drink dribbling from my chin.
“Men who look like you are not supposed to talk about head.” I cough.
“Why not?” ha asks incredulously. “And what do you mean, men who look like me?”
“All serious and stuff.”
He looks at me deadpan. “Define stuff.”
“You know, older, rich and bossy.”
His eyes dance with delight. “And what gives you the impression that I’m rich and bossy?”
I exhale in an over-exaggerated way. “You look rich.”
“How do I?”
“Your fancy watch. The cut of your shirt.” I glance down at his shoes. “I’ve never seen shoes like that before. Where did you even get those?”
“In a shop, Emily.” He looks at his watch. “And I’ll have you know that this watch was a gift from a girlfriend.”
I roll me eyes. “I bet she’s a vegan yoga nut.”
He smirks.
“I know you’re type of woman.”
“Really?” he listens as if amused. “Please go on – this character analysis is fascinating.” I smile as a little voice from my subconscious screams, Stop drinking, fool! “I’m assuming you live in New York.”
“Correct.”
“In an apartment?”
“Affirmative.”
“You probably work at some ritzy company.”
He smiles; he likes this game. “Perhaps.”
“You would have a girlfriend or...” I glance down “You don’t wear a wedding ring...so perhaps you cheat on your wife when you travel for work?”
He chuckles. “You really should make a profession out of this. I’m amazed at the accuracy.”
I like this game too; I smile broadly. “What do you think about me?” I ask. “What was your first impression when I walked onto the plane?”
“Well,” he frowns as he considers the question. “Do you want the politically correct version?”
“No, I want the truth.”
“Right...well, in that case, I noticed your long legs and the curve of your neck. The dimple in your chin. You are the most attractive woman I have seen in a long time, and when you smiled, it bought me to my feet.”
I smile softly as the air swirls between us.
“And then you spoke, and ruined everything.”
What?
I burst out laughing. “I ruined everything. How did I ruin everything?”
“You’re bossy with a sarcastic snark.”
“What’s the problem with that?” I stammer in outrage.
“Well, I’m bossy and sarcastic.” He shrugs.
“And?”
“And I don’t want to date myself. I like sweet, demure girls, the ones who do what I say.”
“Ugh,” I roll my eyes. “The ones who clean the house and have sex on Saturdays.”
“Precisely.”
I laugh and hold my glass up to clink with his. “You’re not bad for a boring old guy with weird shoes.”
He laughs. “And you’re not bad for a young, hot smart-ass.”
“Do you want to watch Magic Mike XXL with me?” I ask.
“I suppose, although I should let you know...I am an ex-stripper myself, so this is nothing new for me.”
“Really?” I try to hide my smile. “You’re good on a pole?”
His eyes hold mine. “My pole work is the best in the country.”
The air crackles between us and I have to concentrate on stopping my inebriated mouth from saying something slutty.
He pushes the screen and taps through to Magic Mike XXL... and I smile broadly. This man is so unexpected.
First class is definitely the way to fly.
Six hours later
“Okay, next question. The weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?” he whispers.
I smirk. “You can’t ask me that.”
“Yes I can. I just did.”
“It’s rude.”
“Says who?” He looks around. “It’s just a question and nobody is listening.”