Page 4 of Fly with Me
The man smiled. “Thank you.” He held out a shaking hand.
“Anytime.” Olive shook his hand but then winced. “But hopefully never again.”
“We’re preparing for our final descent. A medical crew is going to meet us at the gate,” the flight attendant said.
“We’re already in Orlando?” Olive’s eyes widened. It couldn’t have taken that long.
He shook his head. “Diverted to Atlanta.”
“Oh, yeah. That makes sense.” She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. It was absolutely the correct decision. She could get another flight out. She could make it in time.
Her legs had begun to cramp underneath her. She was shaky when she made it to her feet, cracking her back and stretching her neck. A roar of noise assaulted her ears, almost giving her a heart attack.
Were they crashing? No. Not after all of that.
It… it was applause.
For her.
Olive pressed her cold hands to her cheeks, hoping to ease the burning. The flight attendant whose name tag she was finally calm enough to read—LEO—pulled her onto a small flip-down seat and buckled her in. Her hands, which had been so steady when she’d held the EpiPen, now trembled wildly. Two other flight attendants managed to half carry the man she’d helped into one of the first-row seats. They checked and rechecked him to make sure he was conscious.
Olive’s eyes shut as a sudden wave of exhaustion crashed into her—well, not crashed. Just to be clear, nothing is goddamn crashing. She massaged her eyelids, seeing colored spots when she forced them open again.
In fifteen minutes and several more near panic attacks, the plane landed with a surprisingly gentle thump, and Olive Murphy was on the ground again. She closed her eyes and sighed.
They slowed to a crawl and then taxied to the gate.
Leo touched her arm, rousing her from a stare. “The pilots would like to talk to you.”
“Uh—sure. Can I check on him now?” She pointed to the man who’d had the allergic reaction.
Leo nodded.
Olive pressed her fingers to the man’s wrist to feel his pulse. He smiled at her. He had a kind, animated face, and she was relieved to see color back in his cheeks. Before she could ask his name, the gate door opened and paramedics appeared. Another round of applause greeted her as she approached her seat.
The old lady in the seat beside hers took off her mask and earplugs and peered up at her. “Did you puke?”
Olive looked at her clothes, which were still mercifully free of vomit.
“I knew it—”
“But I—” Olive shrugged. “Never mind.” With Leo’s help, she hauled her bag out of the overhead compartment and dug in the seat for her phone. He ushered her back up to the front and off to the side.
The cockpit door opened—was it called a cockpit or was that just what they called it in Top Gun? Olive froze.
Standing in front of her was the most beautiful woman she’d ever met in real life. Long, shiny dark hair pinned back into a neat bun beneath a hat. Sparkling dark brown eyes and full, kissable lips. A mouth that quirked up at the sides as if smiling was its most natural position. And right now, this captivating woman was smiling at no one except Olive.
“I’m Allied Airlines pilot Stella Soriano.”
Chapter 3
Allied Airlines pilot Stella Soriano’s eyes brightened. “I was so surprised to find out that the person saving the other passenger was just a nurse.”
Okay…
So the most beautiful woman on the planet might be an ignorant asshole.
Fabulous.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4 (reading here)
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