This is the first part of the Ellen and Bob story. These parts will start out rather tame but will progress as Ellen finds her sexual self.
As flights go, this was not the worst, but it ranked right up there. There were screaming babies, obnoxious passengers, rude flight attendants and someone, somewhere, who didn't know the general hygiene basics. At least he could put his noise-cancelling headphones on and concentrate on the presentation he had to throw together before landing.
He had to run through the airport to make the flight; this seat had been the last to be assigned. It had been a last-minute preparation, and he could improve his company's market share if they could land this account. The potential customer was not happy with their current situation but said if his company could send someone out with their design ideas ASAP, they would consider giving them the job. Unfortunately, the other company was headquartered on the opposite side of the country, and since he was the only one with experience, he was chosen to go.
Everything went very well. He made a good case for his company's abilities, and the prospective client seemed impressed. That they invited him to dinner afterward and back for a tour of their facility and staff made it likely he would land the account, but it also meant another schedule and airline change, and who knows what the flight back would be like? Still, if it meant establishing new relationships and entering a partnership with this client and their deep pockets, it would be worth a minor inconvenience.
Sure enough, he had to take a late flight from Los Angeles, so he would not be home until after midnight. This was one of the few times he regretted having a house about an hour from the city, but the reward was worth it, most of the time. Maybe he would have the aisle to himself or sit beside a good-looking woman with whom he could have a decent conversation on the way home. Good luck with that!!!
Why did airlines fill the front of the airplane first and then the back? He wasn't sure about this plane's design, but given its size and his seat assignment, he doubted it would have a row 44 seat B. As he walked back, he realized he had the row with the two seats wedged into the back that did not have a window, nor did the seats tilt back the one inch that the others could. "Damn, this was going to be a long flight," he thought.
He looked up, and there was an attractive woman looking at him with an incredibly pissed-off ice-cold stare.
"How in the hell did I get this seat? I came all the way out here for some useless trip, and now I must shoehorn myself into the worst seat in the plane. You have got to be kidding me," she said to herself, but loud enough for most of the back of the plane to hear.
"Now, here is a real Ice Queen! This wasn't exactly what I ordered," he thought. She started to push her way over him. "Wait a minute," he said, "I will just take the seat against the window."
"No, I will take that seat. That way, I can lay against the side of the plane, hopefully pass out and sleep this nightmare away." She spoke more at him than to him, and he could tell she wasn't in the mood to make friends.
He got up and moved to his right and into the small bathroom entrance directly behind them to allow her access to her seat. There were no other seats next to them on the other side of the aisle because a bathroom took up that space.
As she further pushed her way in, he assessed the situation. She was about 5'6" with very dark brunette hair and a no-nonsense bob hairstyle. She had on a very conservative business dress, one that women who want to be taken seriously wear when they have to deal with their male counterparts. He caught a whiff of an amazing scent, like a mixture of roses and lilacs. He settled in and tried his best to keep to himself. That is, unless he wanted his head bit off.
She also settled in and then regretted her demonstrative entrance onto the plane. "Why did I have to be such a bitch? Yes, I cannot stand having to be in this seat, but this guy next to me is so hot and damn; what is that cologne he is wearing?" OMG. She knew that bridge had been burned prematurely and got out a book she hoped was good and would make the time go by fast.
The flight attendant made her way to the last row and asked what they wanted. "I will take a White Zinfandel, please," his seatmate said, not quite as bitchy as before.
"I would like the same thing. Shaken; not stirred, please," he smirked at the stewardess.
The woman actually let out an audible sound, and he just had to remark. "That almost sounded like a laugh."
"I do have a sense of humor, except when I am squeezed into a sardine can."
"I know what you mean, but I'm going to try to make the best out of the situation." He said as he raised his plastic cup of wine to show he was going to drink a few.
She started on her wine and let the alcohol make her less uptight. After about five minutes of silence, she began to unwind.
"You are a fan?" She asked.
"Of what? Being squeezed into the back of a plane with someone I don't know? I will let you know after the flight." He said with an understated sexy smile and laugh.
She let out a complete laugh at that one. Maybe she wasn't an Ice Queen after all, maybe just a Queen.
"No smartass; of James Bond movies."
"Yes, I enjoy them. I think most guys identify with some of the debonair spy thing. Same thing with westerns. Men want to fantasize sometimes, whether they admit it or not. You?"
