it with a half-grin, though.
Getting shot at. I swallowed hard and took another sip.
“What are you having?” He nodded at my cup.
“Vodka and cranberry. I pretty much only drink vodka.”
“Me too,” he said. “But with soda. What’s your favorite vodka?”
I told him and he grinned. “Same! Look at that.” He held out his cup and we clanked the plastic together, drinking again.
“So, where you from?” he asked.
“Virginia Beach, mostly. My dad is retired Navy. You?”
“Navy, girl, huh? I’m originally from Raleigh-Durham area, North Carolina. Ever been?”
“Driven through. I’ve flown there, but it was late so I only saw the inside of a hotel.”
He nodded and took another sip. “How long you been flying?”
“Four months. Six and a half if you count the six-week training.”
“Okay. And what’d you do before that?” Not gonna lie—his inquisitiveness was flattering.
“I went to college,” I told him. “Got a degree to be a teacher, and then….” I shrugged.
“No teaching then?”
I shook my head, looking down at my drink. This was always a shameful subject for me. Who completes four and a half years of college and student teaching, then throws it all away? My parents couldn’t understand it. I’d just felt so trapped that I couldn’t even sleep at night.
“That’s okay,” he said gently. “It’s not like you can’t go back to it someday if you’re ready.”
“Yeah,” I said. The thought of working with little ones again someday filled me with a glimmer of hope. I took another sip without looking at him. My belly was starting to feel really warm.
“So, where do you live now?” he asked. I felt his eyes on me, watching me intently, and when I looked up I felt a buzzing jolt at his eyes staring at mine. Conversation with him was too easy. I had his undivided attention, and he was actually interested in learning about me, asking me questions. Most guys only wanted to flirt and try to be sexy.
“I’m based out of Newark. I live in Jersey City with seven other flight attendants in a two-bedroom apartment.”
“Seven?” His face lit up. “How the hell does that work out? Bunk beds?”
I laughed. “No. We’re just never all there at once. We have four pallets in the main bedroom and two in the small one.”
“Pallets? Like cots?”
“No. They’re all different. One girl has an actual twin bed. Some of the others have air mattresses. I’ve got a pile of mats and sleeping bags and blankets. It’s actually pretty comfortable.”
He couldn’t stop smiling as I explained, which made me giggle.
“Eight of you, but only six beds?”
I shrugged. “We share. Someone will sleep in my bed tonight. We each have our own pillows, though. We don’t share those. And we wash sheets weekly. Everyone tries to be respectful.”
“Sounds like the military life,” he said.
“Yeah. Our training was pretty rigorous, believe it or not. A lot of people cry and end up dropping out because it’s so stressful, especially during the crash drills. They yell in our faces and all that. We call it Barbie Bootcamp.”
“No way.” He threw his head back and laughed, making me giggle again.
“Yep. And once we graduate we’re called Sky Muffins until we’re put on permanent crews.”
“Shut the fuck up.” His grin was so big it was making my own face hurt from smiling.
Jerome Smith came over with vodka in one hand, cranberry juice in the other, and a bottle of soda water under his arm.
“Refill, Captain?” He looked at me. “Harlow?”
“Ah, you don’t gotta do that, Smith,” the officer said. “I was about to get up.”
“Nah, I got you, sir.” He refilled our drinks with a smile, and Captain Fowler shook his head.
“Just this once. You don’t need to serve me.”
“I live to serve you, sir.”
“Not tonight.” The captain gave Jerome a firm pat on the shoulder as the soldier finished and turned to leave us.
“Good kids, man,” he said, almost to himself before turning to me. “Harlow, is it?”
“Yep. Harlow Robinson. And you’re Captain Fowler?”
“Oh, hell no.” He laughed. “Enough of that. Call me Shawn.”
“Shawn.” I held out my hand like a goober and he shook it, his grip dry and warm.
“Now,” he said. “Your dad was Navy, huh? I’ll try not to hold that against him.”
I laughed. “Luckily we only had to move a couple times. I was in San Diego when I was little, but mostly lived in Norfolk and Virginia Beach. My dad was gone out to sea a lot, though. Then he retired and became a contractor at the shipyard.”
“And your