Read Online A Stirring from Salem by Sheri Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Sheri Anderson
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themselves into Marlena’s hair, tipping her head back slowly to expose her luscious neck. Their bodies joined and began to writhe, first slowly and then with increasing rhythm, as they soared together across the sky.
Charley’s airport experience at Heathrow wasn’t quite the same as the one John and Marlena had experienced in Geneva. Heathrow was always a madhouse, even on New Year’s Day. Charley had flown out of the massive airport dozens of times on her trips from her family home in Holland Park to Choate Rosemary Hall, the prestigious prep school in Connecticut from which she’d graduated a year earlier.
When the town car carrying her and Vince pulled up to the gleaming glass-and-steel structure, Charley smiled. Terminal 5 had only been open since 2008, but it was one of her favorites. The days when time spent in an airport was torture were long gone; not only was the futuristic terminal a creative masterpiece, but it had a First Class lounge that was, well, first class.
Their arrival time was perfect. Charley could see that several others from the crew for the shoot were gathered just inside waiting, and they appeared to be the crème de la crème. MAC’s brilliant senior makeup artist, Gregory Arlt; hair god Alex Roldan; and über-stylist Rachel Zoe’s latest protégée, Ashley Avignone, were all deep in conversation, along with an already frazzled assistant.
Vince led the way into the terminal as Charley handed their boarding passes to the skycap. It was a quick and simple process, but she could sense Vince’s impatience as he waved her inside.
“Everyone, meet my new assistant,” Vince stated as she entered, trailing their carry-ons behind her. “Charley Gaines, meet everyone.”
Before anyone even had a chance to respond, Vince strode toward the security check-ins.
“Hi, all,” is all Charley could get out before falling in step behind him.
“I had better see Blonde, Black, and Red in the lounge,” Vince muttered as he scanned the crowd.
I guess this is on-the-clock time, Charley thought to herself.
***
The First Class lounge, the Concorde Room, was on the far end of the terminal on the upper level, and Charley knew it well. When she entered and saw the polished wood counter with the floor-to-ceiling bar visible behind it, she felt at home.
“Gary,” she said to the agent behind the highly polished, burled wood counter.
“Charley, nice to see you. Sorry about—last year?” he added with a bit of hesitation. Charley had found that people who knew about her family crisis often didn’t know what to say.
“I’m doing fine,” she hedged. “We all are.” Then she shifted gears. “We’re together,” she added as she slid hers and Vince’s boarding passes toward him. “Working,” she clarified as Gary looked at Vince.
“Come right in…Oh—whoops,” he grimaced. “Mr. Castle is fine. But your ticket is economy. You’ll have to wait outside,” Gary told her reluctantly.
Charley was thrown. She hadn’t even looked at her ticket or given it a second thought. She hadn’t traveled economy class since she was five. While she didn’t consider herself spoiled, this isn’t exactly what she had expected.
“Oh,” was all she could muster. She turned to Vince, “Vince, I’ll be right outsi—”
But Vince had already moved into the lounge and was headed to the bar. From Charley’s vantage point, she could see Vince approach three women at the bar. The so-called blonde, black, and red must be the models Vince had hired for the shoot, she figured.
“At least they’re here.” Charley smiled wanly at the embarrassed desk agent. “The models.”
“And only one of them is drunk,” Gary said, smiling and tipping his hand to his mouth as Charley made her way out the door.
While passengers passed in and out, Charley waited patiently. When the door was opened a crack, she strained to see Vince but to no avail.
Maybe I should have asked a few questions, she thought.
After
Charley’s airport experience at Heathrow wasn’t quite the same as the one John and Marlena had experienced in Geneva. Heathrow was always a madhouse, even on New Year’s Day. Charley had flown out of the massive airport dozens of times on her trips from her family home in Holland Park to Choate Rosemary Hall, the prestigious prep school in Connecticut from which she’d graduated a year earlier.
When the town car carrying her and Vince pulled up to the gleaming glass-and-steel structure, Charley smiled. Terminal 5 had only been open since 2008, but it was one of her favorites. The days when time spent in an airport was torture were long gone; not only was the futuristic terminal a creative masterpiece, but it had a First Class lounge that was, well, first class.
Their arrival time was perfect. Charley could see that several others from the crew for the shoot were gathered just inside waiting, and they appeared to be the crème de la crème. MAC’s brilliant senior makeup artist, Gregory Arlt; hair god Alex Roldan; and über-stylist Rachel Zoe’s latest protégée, Ashley Avignone, were all deep in conversation, along with an already frazzled assistant.
Vince led the way into the terminal as Charley handed their boarding passes to the skycap. It was a quick and simple process, but she could sense Vince’s impatience as he waved her inside.
“Everyone, meet my new assistant,” Vince stated as she entered, trailing their carry-ons behind her. “Charley Gaines, meet everyone.”
Before anyone even had a chance to respond, Vince strode toward the security check-ins.
“Hi, all,” is all Charley could get out before falling in step behind him.
“I had better see Blonde, Black, and Red in the lounge,” Vince muttered as he scanned the crowd.
I guess this is on-the-clock time, Charley thought to herself.
***
The First Class lounge, the Concorde Room, was on the far end of the terminal on the upper level, and Charley knew it well. When she entered and saw the polished wood counter with the floor-to-ceiling bar visible behind it, she felt at home.
“Gary,” she said to the agent behind the highly polished, burled wood counter.
“Charley, nice to see you. Sorry about—last year?” he added with a bit of hesitation. Charley had found that people who knew about her family crisis often didn’t know what to say.
“I’m doing fine,” she hedged. “We all are.” Then she shifted gears. “We’re together,” she added as she slid hers and Vince’s boarding passes toward him. “Working,” she clarified as Gary looked at Vince.
“Come right in…Oh—whoops,” he grimaced. “Mr. Castle is fine. But your ticket is economy. You’ll have to wait outside,” Gary told her reluctantly.
Charley was thrown. She hadn’t even looked at her ticket or given it a second thought. She hadn’t traveled economy class since she was five. While she didn’t consider herself spoiled, this isn’t exactly what she had expected.
“Oh,” was all she could muster. She turned to Vince, “Vince, I’ll be right outsi—”
But Vince had already moved into the lounge and was headed to the bar. From Charley’s vantage point, she could see Vince approach three women at the bar. The so-called blonde, black, and red must be the models Vince had hired for the shoot, she figured.
“At least they’re here.” Charley smiled wanly at the embarrassed desk agent. “The models.”
“And only one of them is drunk,” Gary said, smiling and tipping his hand to his mouth as Charley made her way out the door.
While passengers passed in and out, Charley waited patiently. When the door was opened a crack, she strained to see Vince but to no avail.
Maybe I should have asked a few questions, she thought.
After
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