Behind His Lens(47)

A stout, middle-aged flight attendant, dressed head-to-toe in navy blue, announces that we can begin to board the plane while we wait for the rest of the passengers. Leaning down to grab my luggage, I recheck my phone, trying to stall a moment longer because Charley hasn’t arrived yet. I almost called her yesterday to insist that she let me pick her up, or at least hire a car service for her, but I ended up deciding against it. When we talked on the phone about the shoot she told me she “hated me,” and although I know those words couldn’t be farther from the truth, I wanted to give her some space.

I don’t regret offering her name to Ryan. She should have booked the cover over Candace to begin with, and I’m glad everything worked out in the end. She can be angry with me all she wants. Hell, it’s a turn on anyway. I smile wickedly thinking of her sexy voice during our phone conversation.

The stout flight attendant props open a pair of sleek glass doors that lead out onto the runway. Everyone begins filing past me, heading into the foggy, dark air to begin loading their luggage. I hang back for another moment, hoping Charley will appear. A few minutes pass. Nearly everyone has filtered out of the lobby and there’s still no sign of her, so I decide to board and save two seats.

The cabin of the private jet is luxurious, with light brown leather seats lining a long aisle in pairs. Thankfully the rows aren’t crammed together. There’s enough room to recline fully so that the chairs form makeshift beds. I claim a row in the back of the plane, tossing my carry-on bag onto the window seat to save it for her. If I had to guess, I’d assume Charley would want the opportunity to glance out the window. The thought makes me narrow my eyes toward the front of my plane in search of her.

All I see is a flurry of glimmering hair in varying colors as the other models flounce around the plane. I recognize most of them from the casting process or from previous photo shoots. I don’t think I’ve actually held a real conversation with any of them, though it’s not from their lack of perseverance. The moment I take my seat, a few of them hop up and make their way to toward my row like piranhas.

“Morning, Jude,” a pretty redhead sings as she angles her body toward me. I have to fight the urge to pull out my phone and ignore her greeting all together. Don’t feel bad for her. I’ve seen her jump from bed to bed on every shoot we’ve worked on together. She’s not interested in the “morning”; she’s interested in having a quickie in the plane’s restroom. The girls keep talking but their words filter through the air unheard, as if my ears don’t recognize the frequency in which they speak. I nod and offer simple greetings, but it’s impossible to ignore their lingering gazes. A few of them even glance at my carry-on bag on the vacant seat, but I smile civilly and cut the conversations short. The last thing I need is for Charley to board right as one of them is trying to sink their claws into me. I don’t need any more cards stacked against me when it comes to her.

They eventually wander off, and as the plane continues to fill, I smirk, pleased with myself for not ordering that car service after all. If I had, Charley would have been here ten minutes ago and she could have picked a seat anywhere on board. Now there are fewer spots available and the odds that she’ll have to sit by me are looking better and better.

That is until I see Ryan board the plane a moment later with Charley in tow. Motherf*cker. She’s tilting her head back and smiling up at him; a perfectly beautiful smile, except it’s aimed at the wrong person. Ryan’s assistant, who boarded right after them, taps him on the shoulder and mutters something in his ear. He nods, taking out his cell phone, leaving Charley to wave goodbye and look up toward the aisle of the plane.

Her blue eyes find me and I watch her swallow slowly. She hovers in the middle of the aisle, frozen, until she realizes that she’s blocking everyone’s path. She blushes and murmurs an apology before hiking her bag higher on her shoulder and starting to walk toward the back of the plane, directly to me.

I stand as she approaches, taking in her sexy jeans and tight white, long-sleeved shirt.

“Morning.” I try to keep the smile off my lips, I really do, but I still feel the ends of my mouth curling up.

She narrows her eyes sharply in response and I know I’m not in the clear yet. I gesture over to the window. “I saved you a seat.”

Twisting her head around, she takes in her other options. Most of the crew has paired off and a few of the models are chatting casually. Ryan’s sitting with his assistant, which leaves Charley to choose between sitting by me or the chubby lighting director.