Page 498 of His Virgin Romance Series

BRIE

My mood was so sour flying back that even the luxury and comfort of first class could do nothing to soothe me. I had bought a book at the airport, but after realizing that I’d read the same sentence ten times, I decided to put it away and just wallow.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

I looked up at the statuesque blonde flight attendant who was leaning over me with a pleasant smile on her face. Her eyes were a dark brown, and her hair had been combed into a perfect topknot that displayed her high cheekbones and lovely aristocratic nose. She looked like the kind of woman who never had any guy troubles. She probably used men the same way they used her. Which worked, because she never expected anything more from them. Which also meant she could never get hurt.

I knew I was building a character around her face that probably didn’t exist, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t in the mood to be fair.

“Yes?”

“Can I offer you something to drink?” she asked. “We have a selection of fresh juices.”

“Anything alcoholic?” I asked.

She smiled. “Of course,” she nodded. “We have a lovely selection of reds and whites.”

“Nothing harder?”

I saw one perfectly plucked eyebrow rise slightly. “What would you like, ma’am?”

“Bourbon,” I said instinctively, making the choice that Seth would have made in my position.

The airhostess smiled and nodded. “And for you, ma’am?” she asked, looking towards the older woman sitting next to me.

“Orange juice,” the woman replied. “With a splash of rum.”

“Of course,” the airhostess nodded, before moving on down the aisle.

The older woman looked at me with interest. “Bourbon, huh?”

She looked a little like my grandmother—big, cuddly, and comforting. But unlike my grandmother, this woman looked hip and fashionable. She was wearing white linen pants and a matching white blouse with a pattern of seashells along the neckline. She was wearing chunky statement pieces around her neck and ears, and her silver hair was cut short.

“Yes,” I nodded shortly.

“That’s a hard drink to have on a flight,” she continued, in a strong Southern accent.

I just smiled politely and refused to engage.

“But when I look at your face, I suppose I understand the need,” the woman continued.

I looked at her with a small frown, unable to ignore that last comment. “What do you mean?”

“You look sad, honey,” she said, with a sympathetic smile. “I assume the bourbon is to…nurse that sadness?”

“I just… I’m sad to be leaving,” I sighed.

The woman raised one eyebrow at me. “But that’s not all you’re sad about?”

I smiled and looked at her pointedly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, with a laugh. “I know I’m being nosy…my children accuse me of the same thing. It just seems like such a waste.”

“What does?” I asked curiously, knowing I was getting drawn into a conversation despite my best efforts.

The wflight attendant approached and set down our drinks. The moment she was gone again, the older lady turned back to me. “Your generation,” she said. “You’re all so young, and you have your whole lives ahead of you…and still you waste your time being sad about everything. What I wouldn’t give to be in my twenties and thirties again.”

I smiled, and then I extended my hand out to her. “I’m Brie,” I introduced.

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