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“Oh, no. I couldn’t do that.”
He shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I’ll still have a layover either way.”
Seeing the man behind me, the flight attendant smiles, showing a mouth full of white teeth. “That’s so kind of you, Mr. Be-ah-ti.”
“Beatty Johnson,” he corrects her. “As in Warren Beatty.”
“Who?” she asks, returning his card.
“Never mind. You can give Miss Erickson my spot on the plane.”
The girl smiles, looking between the two of us. “Mr. Beatty, that’s not necessary. Miss Erickson will be on the next plane. It’s scheduled to arrive in two hours.”
“I’m not sure why you seem to think she’s the one who should wait. I’m offering her my place on the plane. It’s not that difficult.”
Doing what I do best, I try to smooth over the situation. I turn toward the confused flight attendant. “It’s fine. I’ll stay here.”
Beatty turns toward me. “No, it’s not.” He looks at the girl, the face he wore moments earlier is replaced by one not as kind. “Let me guess. You’re working this flight and not on the next. Somehow, in your naive mind, you think maybe I’ll find you attractive and we can spend some alone time during my layover.”
“Sir, that’s not what…” she stumbles over her words, clearly flustered by his. She shuffles a few papers on the desk. “It seems we can get both of you on this plane.” She clears her throat and smiles. The overwhelming confidence she had moments earlier is replaced by an emotion I recognize immediately. Awkwardness.
“There you go. After you, Miss Erickson.” He motions toward the now-open gate. “It seems there’s room for both of us.”
A different attendant waves from the gate, motioning us toward the front of the plane. Handing my ticket to the third attendant inside the plane, she points me to the row and seat listed on my ticket.
I place my small bag in the compartment above my head and clean the seat carefully before settling into the plush leather seat. “Welcome, Miss Erickson. Would you care for a drink?”
“Water please.”
“Of course, right away.”
I turn, finding the seat across the aisle being occupied by my new friend, Beatty. “Water?” he asks, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“I like to live on the wild side.” He smirks as an attendant hands him a mixed drink of some kind and me my bottle of water.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice booms over the loudspeaker. “We will be in the air shortly. Please remain in your seat until the seatbelt light is turned off.”
Scrolling through my phone, I find ten texts from Emma, making sure I’m still alive. I answer her quickly before the plane begins to taxi down the runway. Moments later, we lift into the sky, making my stomach rise into my throat. I’ve never enjoyed flying. Thank God, I have a motion sickness patch behind my ear, or I would have just embarrassed myself in front of Beatty.
“You okay over there?”
I turn toward the deep voice. “Not a fan of flying.”
“Really? You hide it so well.” He smiles, forming dimples on each of his cheeks. “Would a little distraction help?”
“Sure?”
“Where are you going after Atlanta?”
Telling my best friend I was heading to Norway for an alone trip was easy. For some reason, telling Beatty where I’m heading is harder. “Oslo, Norway.”
He pulls his legs underneath him, and the dimples return. “Oslo? Are you joking?”
“I know it’s crazy.”
“It’s not crazy at all. That’s where I’m heading, too.”
I stare at the man, not sure if he’s making fun of me or serious. “For real?”
