Destination D (3 page)

Dee gripped the frayed carpet with her hands and knees as she took tortoise steps up the aisle toward her seat. Small droplets of perspiration trickled down her forehead and trailed down her neck and chest, causing her white cotton blouse to stick to her. For every move she made forward, it seemed like the turbulence caused her to take two steps backward.

“It's going to be fine, Dee. Just a few more inches…” Jodie encouraged.

“Grab my hand!” shouted Birdie as she tried to reach for Dee's hand.

“Oh my God! Birdie, I can't!”

The plane took another dive and she lost her grip, causing her to fall back down to the floor and bump her head at the base of a cabin seat. Still a little dazed from her fall, she closed her eyes and slowly moved her head around to regain her composure. When she opened her eyes, she saw the plane was filled with a morbid silence and the smell of fear permeated the air. Now there wasn't a sleeping eye in the entire cabin.

Her heart pounded louder. And just when she was about to lose faith in her own calming words that she had said to the college students, the man whose foot she had saved struggled to make his way up the aisle toward her. The force was pulling him back so hard that he had to grab onto the back of each seat to keep his balance. When he finally made his way to her, he reached out and took her hand and lifted her off of the floor.

“Th-thank you, sir,” she said, rubbing her head.

“One good turn deserves another,” he replied shakily while holding onto the seat back. His dark eyes kept rapidly moving back and forth as if he wasn't sure what direction he should take. The jerky movements of the plane bounced him up and down, making him look like a neatly dressed pogo stick on top of a pair of stilts.

“How's your head?”

Hopefully, it's a concussion so I can forget about this nightmare and take some time off.
“Just a little bump. Nothing serious, though.”

“You may need to get it looked at, just to make sure.” Suddenly the bumpiness came to a sudden halt and the plane started to ascend.

“Ladies and gentleman, this is Captain Douglas. I apologize for that bumpy ride. We ran into a few unanticipated storm clouds. They've moved to the north and we anticipate smooth flying from here on out…”

“Like I was saying…I'll be fine,” Dee said, as a look of relief spread across her face and her voice returned to normal.

“Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for landing.” The captain's voice rang loudly through the intercom.

“Well, that's my cue, you better get back to your seat,” Dee said as she tried to manage a warm smile.
Other than the fact that he could probably sleep through a tornado, he seems like a nice guy,
Dee thought as he smiled back at her.

Now that the flight was about to land, Dee didn't miss a beat as she walked down the aisles checking seat backs and collecting empty cups. She made her way back to the college students who also had a tremendous look of gratefulness. Tracey had already unbuckled her seat belt and was getting up. “Auntie Dee! Thank you.” Dee pointed to the seat belt sign and winked.

“Oops! I'm sorry.”

“One thrown flight attendant is enough.” Dee laughed. “Your mother would have a fit if you got hurt—and especially on one of my flights!”

Tracey's face became a little flush from embarrassment. “I know.”

“What were you doing in Salt Lake City?”

“Mimi has an aunt who lives out there,” she said, pointing to her friend sitting next to her. “We just hung out with her aunt for a few days. “Mimi, this is my Auntie Dee.”

“This is your aunt? Miss Dee, thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Mimi. I'm just glad you are okay.”

“And that's our friend Jackson,” Tracey said, pointing to the young man with the MP3 player.

“Yeah, nice meeting you, and thank you. We didn't know what hit us,” Jackson chimed in as he pulled his headphones out from underneath his seat.

“See, I told you everything would be fine,” Dee said, relieved that everything really
did
work out okay.

“Now, you know that since we're landing you can't play that—”

“Don't worry, ma'am. I've learned my lesson. It's going in my carry-on.”

“Auntie Dee,” Tracey interrupted, “do you think you'll have some time to talk when we land?”

“I'm headed onto Miami after we land, but I'll be back in Atlanta in three days. Why don't you give me a call or text me, so we can catch up, okay?”

Tracey let out a long sigh. “Okay.”

Dee smiled, but she could see there was something pressing on Tracey's mind. She glanced out of the window and saw the plane headed for touchdown and rushed back to her jump seat. When she sat down, she started thinking about her session with her doctor. Just like a rerun of a bad movie, his voice played over and over again in her head:
I should look at my job as being important. I have to feel proud of my accomplishments and my chosen field. Okay, here goes: I am proud to have helped some distressed people feel more comfortable today, and I am proud to have prevented someone from having a severe leg injury.
She took a long deep breath and closed her eyes.
And the lesson that I learned today: I've got to find another occupation—and soon!

Clear Skies

A
fter finally reaching Miami, a Renaissance Hotel van pulled up in front of the airport and all eight crewmembers loaded their luggage on top of the luggage racks and settled back into the high-back jade green leather seats. When they arrived at the hotel, there was a crew sign-in sheet at the front desk with everyone's room number. After the crew signed in, the hotel representative gave each person a small white envelope with a key card inside.

“Dee, what floor are you on?” asked Doug, one of the pilots who immediately noticed she was not moving off with the rest of the crew to the fifth floor.

Dee nonchalantly looked down at the room number on her envelope. “Um, it looks like I'm on the twenty-fifth floor.”

“It's strange that they would put you so far up from the rest of the crew,” Jodie replied apprehensively.

“Maybe they just ran out of rooms. I'll be fine.”
Hey, after a day like today, they could put me on the roof just as long as I'm not on anybody's airplane.

“Will we see you at dinner tonight?” Birdie asked with the same tone of concern.

“Hey, I'm a big girl. Really…I'll be fine. Listen, I'm really beat. I'll see you at check-out in the morning, okay?” Dee said, putting on her best reassuring smile.

Jodie finally relented. “Okay, I'll call to check on you later to see how you're feeling. And by the way, don't worry, I wrote an incident report about you bumping your head. I'll turn it in to your supervisor when we get back to Atlanta.”

“Thanks, but I'll be fine. Really. Goodnight.” Dee waved goodbye until the elevator doors closed. She leaned leisurely back against the elevator rail and rode it for the next twenty floors. Once she got off, she walked down a long winding hallway and saw that her room was in a flight attendant's dream location—tucked away in a corner far away from a raucous icemaker and the relentless opening and closing of an elevator door.

As she slid her key card into the door slot, she grinned at the thought of how she lucked out on the hotel running out of rooms. Her grin turned into a quiet gasp as she stared in awe of the room's beauty. This was a slice of heaven, and she quickly forgot about her plane ride from hell.

“I don't believe this!” she said, as she rolled her suitcase through the doorway and closed the door. The suite was decorated with traditional mahogany furniture. Dee strolled through the living room that was decorated in beautiful hues of jade, salmon pink, and ivory. An eggshell white sofa sat in front of the stacked stone fireplace. Its pencil thin stripes matched the salmon-colored walls. The sofa's clawed feet were identical to the ones on the round end tables sitting on both sides of the sofa.

In the bedroom, there was a four-poster king-size bed accented with a lovely jade satin bedspread that cascaded to the floor. The bed stood three feet above the ground and came with its own three-step wooden stool. Across from the bed, a 32-inch flat screen television was enclosed inside a striking armoire unit. Its panels were etched with intricate carvings of palm trees.

A fully equipped kitchenette with white granite countertops and a mini-bar sat discreetly on one side of the suite. The bathroom was Dee's favorite. A double vanity sink with brushed metal faucets and a dual towel warming rack was located across from the marble sunken Jacuzzi tub. There was also an 18-inch flat screen TV that hung from the ceiling. Behind the bathroom door hung a beautiful blue velvet monogrammed robe that looked comfortable enough to spread onto the floor and use as a coverlet in front of the fireplace.

She could hear the faint sounds of her favorite neo-soul artist, Maxwell, wafting throughout the suite. She followed his pleasing melody out to a private balcony located just outside the French doors of her bedroom.

“This view is breathtaking. If my crew could see this, they would no longer
worry
about me; they'd be
envious
of me!” Dee laughed as she pictured herself calling them up to join
her
for dinner in her lavish suite. She would pay for a full price airline ticket just to see the look on their faces.

Dee sat down at the small patio table for two and marveled at the spectacular view of the Atlantic Ocean. She was in awe looking at the crystal blue waves casually drifting back and forth on the sand. A quiet sea breeze tap-danced across her face and down to her tired muscles. She felt her muscles relax as she laid her head back on the chair and soon she was dozing.

The morning rush hour traffic twenty-five floors below was nonexistent as the faint sound of a buzzer disturbed Dee's tranquility. “Where in the world is that buzzing coming from?” Dee awakened out of her peaceful slumber and realized that the sound was coming from the phone in her room. “I told them I would be fine!” she said, as she went inside to answer it. “Now, what? Hello, Jodie?”

“No, this is not Jodie. Try again, Desiree,” the sexy baritone voice answered back.

“Oh my, goodness! Chris?”

“What other man would know your room number?” Chris teased, pretending to be jealous.

“Just you, baby, but…”

“What time did you get in?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“But, how'd you know…I mean…I didn't tell you…”

“Slow, down girl, first things first. How'd you like my gift?”

“You bought me something, but where is it?” Dee asked while her eyes scanned the room.

“You're standing in it!”

“Standing in…oh my! Chris, that was you?”

“You like it?”

“Do I like it? I love it. I should have known that you had something to do with this romantic view and exquisite suite.”

“Nothing but the best for my baby. See, you already forgot that you told me you were flying into town today for a meeting. And I know you stay at the same hotel every time you come to Miami. So, it wasn't hard to figure out.”

“You devil!”

“Yeah, I want to be
one
with you. What time can I come over?” Chris whispered seductively.

“Ahhh…I'm looking at my watch now, how about an hour?”

“Too long, baby, I'll be there in thirty minutes,” Chris purred before she could answer.

“Ah, okay, I can't wait to see you, either,” Dee said, chuckling into the dead receiver.

Chris Dickerson was Dee's Miami lover. He was a linebacker for the Miami Dolphins and had a $5.2 million contract. Although he scored high in charisma and looks, her lover lost points when it came to intellect. Nevertheless, his extremely sexy style and the way he made Dee feel in bed dropped his brain to secondary importance.

Just the sound of Chris's voice made Dee quiver. His voice was so deep, mellow, and smooth that it made the late Barry White's voice sound like a canary. Chris couldn't walk into the same room without Dee wanting him to take command of her body and make love to her. His small, dark eyes could take control of her, and his lashes were long, especially for a man with a 6'4” 225-pound frame. The smoothness of his bronze skin gave the appearance that it had never been introduced to a razor, and his upper body was cut like a middleweight wrestler. His physique began with six-pack abs and ended with firmly sculpted buttocks and solid, muscular thighs.

Dee met Chris six months ago when they were seated in first class on a flight from Atlanta to Miami. She was elegantly dressed in a stunning blue Ralph Lauren silk wrap dress. Chris looked very stylish in a short sleeve black Polo shirt, emphasizing his bulging muscles that were resting on the shared armrest between them. His straight cut Levis fit his thighs and butt perfectly. He politely asked the lady sitting next to Dee if she would exchange her aisle seat with his. She obliged, and Dee and Chris talked for the entire flight.

“So, do you always look this beautiful when you travel, or are you going someplace special?” Chris asked as he flashed his impeccably straight white teeth in a teasing grin.

“Yes, I always look this beautiful,” Dee grinned.
“And
I'm going to a wedding.”

“I hope you are not the bride-to-be.”

This guy is too smooth for words,
Dee thought. “The bride is a good friend of mine.”

“Whoo! That's a relief.” Her seatmate flashed his pearly Chiclet teeth again and held his brawny hands playfully to his heart.

“Very funny! So, where are you going once you land?” Dee asked, secretly hoping that they could meet again while she was in Miami.

“To work.”

“I see,” Dee said trying not to sound too nosy as she coyly glanced at her watch. “Well, it's a little late to be starting a work day unless you're working a third shift.”

“Well, let's just say that sometimes I have to work late, and then there are other times when I have to go in a little early.”

Dee had recognized the famous football player as soon as he entered the jet. She was intrigued by the thought that he wasn't arrogant, and he didn't start their conversation by bragging about his job like a lot of other professional football players she knew. Dee was flattered at the idea of
him
wanting to get to know more about
her.

Chris's eyes ran the length of Dee, taking in every curve and every bit of her delicate beauty from head to toe. “So, now that you know my work schedule, what is yours like?”

“Same holds true with me. Sometimes I work late and sometimes I work early,” she teased back.

“Touché!”
he said, as he lifted his water glass and took a sip. His smile was so irresistible that she momentarily pictured herself caressing his lips with hers. And for a moment, he looked as if he was thinking the same thing, too.

“Excuse me, sir,” interrupted a short, stocky flight attendant. She had managed to maneuver her way from the rear of the airplane to first class. She did her best to lean over gracefully and gently whisper in his ear. “Aren't you Chris Dickerson with the Miami Dolphins?”

Chris looked a little embarrassed as Dee gave him one of her “you got busted” looks.

“Guilty as charged,” he said, politely.

“Well, I hate to bother you, but my little boy is a huge fan of yours, and I was wondering if you would sign an autograph for him?”

“Sure, I'd be glad to.” The flight attendant's face lit up like a child's on Christmas morning as her brown stubby fingers handed him a pen and a piece of paper.

“What's your son's name?” Chris asked as he neatly wrote his signature.

“Michael Canton,” she said breathing deeply while trying hard to keep her eyes from roving all over him. She extended her hand flirtatiously, “And
I'm
Barbara.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you,
Barbara
,” he said, shaking her hand and handing her his autograph.

“Thanks so much.”

“No problem.”

“May I get you anything?”

“Bottled water will be fine.”

She turned to Dee unenthusiastically, faking a half-hearted smile. “And you?”

“I'm fine, thanks,” Dee responded politely as she watched the woman walk back to the galley. She was so relieved Barbara didn't know her.

“So, Mr. Dickerson with the Miami Dolphins…”

Chris interrupted before she could finish her sentence. “All right, you got me. I apologize. It's just that I didn't want to, you know.”

“Know what?”

“Didn't want you to think…”

“Think?”

“Okay, you're not going to give a guy a break, are you? Please, let's just start over.”

Dee gave him the once-over and was about to read him like a best-selling novel until she stared into his gentle eyes. Barbara walked back over and poured water for Chris into an ice-filled glass.

“If there is anything else I can get you, Mr. Dickerson, please don't hesitate to call me,” she smiled seductively.

“Thank you.”

Barbara glanced again at Dee and gave her a stiff smile as she returned to the main cabin. Dee shook her head and chuckled under her breath at her immature behavior.

“So, as I was saying, before we were interrupted,” Chris joked as he raised his bottled water in salute. “I'm Chris Dickerson, and I'm very glad to be sitting here with you. Would you mind telling me your name?”

Damn, he's good.
“Desiree Bradshaw,” Dee lied, coming up fast with a pseudo name while trying to sound indifferent, but not too forgiving.

“Desiree Bradshaw…Desiree Bradshaw…hmmm…Ms. D.” The richness of his voice made her feel as if she had just been crowned the Duchess of York. However, she wasn't ready to let him off the hook that easily.

“My
friends
call me that.”

“What…D?”

“Yes,” she said coolly, as if he was being too presumptuous.

Chris decided to change the subject. “So,
Desiree,
how long will
you
be in Miami?”

“Just overnight. I have to fly back again in time for a conference.”
Oops! I'm doing it again.

“A conference, huh?”

Oh, please don't ask.

“Would you mind my asking you what type of conference?”

I knew it!
She already regretted her lies. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, depending on what type of conference it is, I was thinking that I could meet you there.”

“My, my, my…aren't we feeling overly confident?” Dee teased, loving every minute of the thought.

“No, not really, I was just hoping you would let me see you again.”

“Hmmm, I'll think about it.”

Chris glanced at his watch. “Well, based on our estimated time of arrival, you have about thirty minutes,” he said, flashing his beautiful ivories again.

“I don't know, I may need more time to make my decision,” Dee quipped.

The pilot's voice came over the loudspeaker. “Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for landing.” They both raised their seatbacks and put up their trays as the flight attendants began walking through the aisles.

“Fifteen more minutes, Miss Bradshaw,” Chris said, trying hard to sound serious as he added more bass to his already baritone voice.