Waking Up with a Ring on My Finger and a Bad Boy at My Side [14]

Great banner by NeonHighlighter! Thank you~!

I took a flight. Odd thing to do, but I was being impulsive as I suddenly had an angry thought that I didn't have no where to go. Literally. I was lost. I wasn't even sure what to do. So here I was, in flight 3868 to London.

I could've go to Detroit but nooo.

I guess, since Detroit was Evelyn's territory I didn't really want to go there. Nor do I want to be reminded of the Compton Industries since two of their HQ's were there...nor do I want to meet any of my friends there. They'll just ask about Brandon.

I cringed slightly; the last thing I want was to be reminded of him, I thought, rubbing my temples. But still, I could go to Las Vegas or something rather than take this freakishly long flight. I had terrible motion sickness.

Hmm, this Bloody Mary was probably a bad idea then.

I pushed the glass away and slowly drifted off to sleep. God, I hoped that there was not a turbulence as I really need this--

...I spoke to soon.

Not only did I finally felt how it was like for ice in those cocktail shakers, but the drink spilled on me. I groaned- well, at least have the decency to announce the damn turbulence was coming. "What the hell?" someone next to me yelled.

Obviously he was thinking the same thing as me. For one thing, he wasn't in the seat next to me in the first place (it was empty). He was walking up the aisle to go to the lavatory, I suppose. Suddenly, flight attendants were scattering around as if realizing the situation in the cabin was a total chaos.

A kid was crying for god's sake! I hit my palm on my forehead. Sheesh, I was having a slight headache from the sound. One of the stewardess apologized profusely and then it happened again. Much more terrible this time.

My grip on the armrests tightened and the stewardess fell and bumped her head on the guy's head. Both of them groaned in pain and a couple of people screamed. Okaaay, something was not right here.

I shot a worried glance towards the other flight attendants who were talking in a very animated manner. Fuck, didn't they know what was happening? The seat-belt sign blinked above us. "Err, ladies and gentlemen please remain seated. Um, we're probably crossing a turbulence zone--"

PROBABLY?!

And suddenly the aircraft shook violently again, throwing a few flight attendants off their feet. "Cabin crew, please be seated."

Oh my god, oh my god. We were going to die.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"Never ever will I take this stupid airline, ever again," the man next to me finally spoke. My fingernails were still practically digging into the armrests as I nodded nervously. It turns out that it was really a bad turbulence after all.

But that didn't made the image of the engine falling apart disappear off my mind.

"At least tell us something, god!" I hissed as a reply. He nodded in agreement and turned towards me. He extended his arm towards me and said, "Logan Rayford, nice to meet you."

"Samantha Bennett," I introduced myself, grinning. He raised his eyebrow questioningly. "That event planner?"

I forced a smile and nodded. "How'd you know?"

"My friends...been recommending you to me," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm a morning talk show co-host," he said. Stunned, I answered, "Wait...you're Logan Rayford from 'Coffee Hour!'?"

He shrugged and nodded. I blinked a couple of times. The thing was, I didn't watch Coffee Hour! as much as before since I woke up very late, and their show was at an ungodly hour of 8 in the morning.

But he looked so much taller in person and I always thought he was a bit fat, but in reality he was actually built. Somewhat. Plus, he haven't shaved. He wasn't wearing his contact lenses but instead his green eyes were hidden behind a pair of black-rimmed spectacles.

Now that there wasn't make-up on his face, he looked so much exhausted. The bags under his eyes were evident. He caught me staring quietly and I blushed. "Yeah, I know. I look so much ugly in real life."

Despite the fact that I felt simply horrible, I laughed. "No you don't," I lied. He gave me a look and I grinned stupidly. "Well, maybe you do."

"It's ridiculous really," he said. "I'm a 27 years old. I've got a whole life ahead of me. But instead I wake up every morning reluctantly just to talk and interview some people. Ever since then I couldn't have enough sleep or time to myself. Bullshit, all of it!" he spat.

You know, I've been used to well-known, famous people saying these stuff all the time that it didn't surprise me as much. "So you're going to London for vacation then...perhaps?" I guessed but he shook his head solemnly.

"I actually have to arrange this god forsaken party. For some reason."

"For some reason?" I echoed, and he chuckled. "A friend of mine thought that we were arranging this big surprise b'day party for him when we talked about gifts and such. We weren't."

That...was harsh.

"With all the hubbub at work, the entire birthday thing slipped my mind. I felt horrible nonetheless, but in the end, I have to arrange this surprise party anyway. The thing is, he's currently in London. My friends had been recommending you for weeks, but I've heard you were unavailable because of a wedding or something?"

I cringed again. "Er, yeah. You could say that. There's lots more of planners around the city, why not find them?"

"I've tried. They are either unavailable or are too busy that day. Psh, could you believe?!" he said angrily. "And there's this one psychopathic event planner who wouldn't just listen to what I want. Underwater sea party with corals and crap," he said, rolling his eyes. "Like fuck Megan want something so corny."

...That planner sounded eerily familiar.

"I can't figure this out on my own," he said. "I need help. And since...we're stuck in here for a while," he said and I took a glance towards the seat-belt sign which was still blinking. "I would beg...I would really BEG you to arrange this party. I'll pay any price."

Well, it was not like I had anything to do in London anyway. But I was so reluctant to take the job since I was really not in the mood to do my job...as odd as that sounded. I was freaking depressed...

...but what the hell?

"Um...wait," I said, rummaging through my handbag. Crap, my phone was left at the apartment. I took out an eyeliner and my little notebook. When he saw me writing with that eyeliner, he laughed. "Shut up," I muttered, embarrassed.

He laughed again. "An eyeliner? Really?"

"This was an impulsive...trip," I finally replied. Wishing to change the subject, I quickly added, "So what do you have in mind?"

We talked. We talked a lot actually, and there was another turbulence...but we didn't really care. The storm was gathering outside, but we didn't really notice. Or at least, I didn't.

Because when I did a quick math about everything- the venue, the caterers, the fee, the invitations...

This Megan girl didn't want a corny party but she sure sounded like the kind of person who loved extravagant, expensive stuff. If I could just get a famous band at the last minute, the total price that Logan Rayford had to pay to ME was around...

$900,000.

"The press would be all over this...since...I kind of announce to them that I would be arranging this party in the first place."

Smooth.

"Listen," I said. "You musn't tell anyone that I'm here or in London. You can't."

The last thing I wanted to do was answer to some angry people. First, Amber. Who would accuse me of not telling her first about the 'break-up' or whatever. And like I've said, I really didn't want to deal with any of the stuff back at home.

"If you'll agree to that, then we'll have a deal."

He smirked and we shook hands. The total price was so high since he's got a lot of specific demands and I was working alone. In a foreign country. The deadline? In four days. This was going to be quite a thrilling challenge.

Challenge meant that I could get my mind off of things for a while.

"You sure you can pull this off?" he suddenly asked after a couple of minutes. I nibbled on my bottom lip. I need to pull this off.