The Woman in 3B - Eliza Lentzski Page 0,83

did you complete using me?”

I flinched at her word choice. I understood from where her anger stemmed. She felt used. She felt like a means to an end instead of me genuinely having feelings for her.

“One,” I answered truthfully. “Get a passenger to buy you dinner; you inadvertently did that one at the airport in Philadelphia. Flight Gods and all that. I could have done another one, but I changed my mind at the last minute.”

Anissa’s nostrils flared in anger. “Have sex with a passenger when your flights are canceled?”

My eyes widened. “No! Spill a drink on a passenger! That flight when I spilled water on myself. You were supposed to be the target, but I changed my mind.”

“Why?” she demanded to know.

“You said thank you.”

I realized how stupid the words sounded, but they were the truth.

“It’s a totally dumb and immature game,” I said. “I only started playing because I thought if I won, it could put a dent in my student debt. No one’s ever filled their entire bingo card before so the pot of money keeps growing.”

“How much?” she questioned.

“No one knows the exact figure,” I disclosed. “Maybe upwards of ten thousand dollars.”

“I suppose I should be impressed that you used me for a good amount of money,” she sniffed, “and not just a few hundred dollars.”

“I wasn’t using you!” my voice strained. “Okay, maybe in the beginning I was when I didn’t know you—when you were just another passenger,” I qualified. “But all of that changed.”

“When? When did things ‘change’ for you, Alice?” she demanded. “Was it before or after we had sex? Did you bring my tablet to my house because of your game or because you really liked me? When you met my family, was that all part of your little game, too?”

“The bingo card was the last thing on my mind when I came out to Dearborn. I swear,” I tried to convince her. “In fact, it was because of the bingo card that I realized I really liked you. There were no bingo squares I could have crossed out when I was there with you that weekend. But I stayed anyway.”

“Lucky me,” she sneered.

“I’m so sorry, Anissa,” I said in earnest. “I hate that I hurt you. I can only imagine what you must have thought you overheard in the bathroom.”

Anissa’s jaw visibly tightened. “All of your flight attendant friends know about me, then?”

“Shit,” I muttered, realizing I’d made another mistake. “Listen, it’s totally not like that. I wasn’t bragging or showing off or even suggesting you were going to help me win the game. My friends only know about you because I’ve been super psyched to be spending time with you.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I was already straying from my routine to date you, Alice. I think this is all the proof I need that I should stick to what’s been working for me.”

“Was it really working?” I challenged.

“Of course,” she said stiffly.

I could sense our conversation was coming to its end. I’d given her my apology and explanation, yet the walls between us had not been moved.

“I think I could make you happy,” I asserted.

Her hazel eyes narrowed. “My schedule doesn’t have time for that.”

+ + +

The week had started with Anissa shutting me down at baggage claim, and on Wednesday’s flight a brand-new stranger had been sitting in seat 3B, which only added to the sting of rejection. Gemma had spent all of our Thursday flights trying to come up with new schemes for me to win Anissa back, but eventually even my big-hearted friend had given up.

By the time Friday came around, I was overly anxious for the weekend to begin. I was technically on call the following day, but I fully expected to spend my Sunday emptying my liquor cabinet. Only a trip to Philadelphia, Boston, and then back to Detroit stood between me and the weekend. I was cautiously optimistic that the workday would pass by quickly with no incidents and no drama, but nothing could ever be that easy for me.

I froze when I walked onto my Friday morning flight. My colleague Derek stood in the front galley and Lara Peterson was sitting, high-heeled shoes already off, in one of the First Class seats. I’d expected to be working that day with Derek and Cheri; I hadn’t expected to see Lara again, especially so soon.

I’d never been very good at masking my emotions. When Lara looked up from her pre-flight checklist,