Page 80 of Flight of Fancy


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“It’s the nature of the airline beast. Flights come and go, sometimes when we’re least expecting them. We need to be able to pull from a pool of available flight attendants. And pilots.”

Great. Riley will bitch about this too. Everyone would. There was hardly a single Royal Asia cabin crew member who enjoyed the thought of being on standby. And the lower on the seniority rung they were? Blowback is coming, for sure.

“Everything good, Elle?”

She shook the thoughts from her head. There was no point dwelling over them while Isaac questioned why she was so invested. Elle had nothing to do with PR, marketing, or directly overseeing personnel. In any other situation, she’d be well-insulated from the worst of the blowback. But she was dating a cabin crew member. She was dating someone who would be directly affected by the bullshit.

“Thanks for letting me know about that,” Elle said. “Before someone else thought it pertinent to tell me. Like through a company missive, or at the next board meeting. Does Singapore know?”

“Pretty sure they were the ones pushing for it.”

Of course they were. Nobody cared more about the numbers than the Singaporean side of Royal Asia. They were probably the ones bargaining the idea of spending money on more staff and, God forbid, planes.

She ended the call before she gave herself away. Finally, Elle was free to roll her chair over to the window, where gray clouds had come across the summer sky and threatened Seattle with a much-needed drizzle. The fire season had kept everyone on edge, and even the news pundits on the local stations were bargaining with God to let some rain come through.

Maybe it wouldn’t rain. Not outside. But around here? Oof.

“I’m done with my meeting,” she messaged Arianna, who was out in the living room watching TV and giving Elle space to do some business. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

She needed five or ten minutes to decide what face to present when she went out there. Ultimately, Elle knew it was best to keep everything happy and neutral. Arianna was on vacation. They were basking in their mutually declared love for one another. The future was supposed to be about exploring what love meant to them and what kind of timeline suited them best. I might be engaged a year from now.

But first… she had to tell Arianna the truth. Somehow. Soon.

Arianna was alone in the penthouse the next day while Elle went out to run some errands. To keep herself busy and helpful, Arianna did some of the laundry, including a load of towels that she had made dirty those past few days. Look at the size of the things. Part of the amusement was standing in the small laundry room – a laundry room! – and watching the towels spin in the washer, soapy suds splashing against the door. Arianna had a washer back in Singapore, but it wasn’t as big as this! She had fit every towel in there instead of splitting it across two or three separate loads.

She wanted to do more to help around the house but also realized that she was Elle’s guest. It’s not my job to cook dinner, but… Well, there wasn’t much Arianna knew how to make based on what she found around the kitchen since many of the base ingredients were different. Even the rice. How did Elle get by without a dedicated rice cooker? Must everything be done on the stove?

She’s got an oven, though. And a microwave. Arianna wanted one of her own but didn’t know where to put it in her small studio apartment. She made do with a toaster oven.

Here? The microwave was part of the cabinetry above the stove. Arianna was far from short, but she felt compelled to drag over a stepstool to make a bag of popcorn to snack on while her girlfriend was gone for a couple of hours.

“Let’s see…” She stared into the huge refrigerator, long dulled to the idea of two doors and an ice maker. “She’s got lots of vegetables. Looks like some chicken…” As soon as she tracked down some rice, she’d know exactly what to cook for dinner. Preferably as a surprise for Elle, who said she’d be back around five.

She was about to text her girlfriend to not bring home anything when the door opened.

“Oh? Are you home al…”

Arianna stood in the middle of the living room, holding the bag of frozen chicken she had been distracted from putting back in the freezer. There, in the foyer, was a stranger.

“Ah! I’m sorry.” A tall American woman in a cinched sundress, strappy sandals, and carrying a small purse with a chain looked back at Arianna with a curious smile. “I should have rang the doorbell, I suppose. I’m just not used to there being anyone else here.”

“Are you…” Arianna cocked her head. “The cleaning woman?” She was under the impression that nobody was coming by to clean that week.

“Oh! That’s funny!” Light brown hair gracefully grazed the foyer light as the tall woman came closer. “No, I’m Pamela. I should be asking who you are.” A gentle laugh only confused Arianna more. “Holding… frozen chicken? Is that it? I’m assuming Elle knows you’re here. You must be her guest. Hm. She didn’t tell me anyone was staying over.”

“Alamak!” Arianna realized that the damp sensation against her blouse was, in fact, a melting chicken bag. She rushed back to the kitchen, throwing the bag in the freezer and dabbing her blouse with the towel hanging on the oven handle. She almost forgot that there was a stranger named Pamela in her midst.

Wait… didn’t this woman look familiar, after all?

“You’re her!” both women almost said at the same time.

“Excuse me?” Arianna asked, hoping the kitchen island would stay between them.

“The new girl.” The golden chain of Pamela’s ivory white purse twisted around her hand. “You must be the woman Elle’s told me about. Are you visiting? From Singapore?”

“She… told you about me?”

“There isn’t much she doesn’t tell me. Why, you know who I am, right? Don’t tell me she hasn’t told you about me! I think my picture is still hanging up around here…”

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