Read Online Bittersweet Revenge by Monroe Scott - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Monroe Scott
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Morrison. She put in her new contact lenses and stared at her blue eyes for a moment. She’d never really looked at her eyes before. Hazel is just a normal color, not one that ever struck people as deep blue eyes did.
She boarded the plane in Zurich, showing her passport as required, and found her way to the second row in first class. She had decided long ago that she would always go first class, no more being squeezed into a seat next to a crying toddler or half drunk 6 foot tall guy who wanted to be her best friend.
Her seat was row two, next to the window. She took off her jacket and made herself comfortable. It was another 40 minutes until the plane finally took off and she was on her way home.
Well, not really “home,” at least not for another year, but at least on United States soil. She sat back and was asleep within a few minutes, the frenzy of the last week finally getting to her. The worst part was that she was always afraid of making a mistake. Of course, that’s how she would have to live for the next year – not making a mistake.
Charla slept the entire trip to New York. She liked that as it kept her from having any dialog with a flight attendant. There it was, the Statue of Liberty, and approach to John F. Kennedy airport. Charla felt tears running down her face. She had not expected that reaction. Wiping her face and fluffing her hair was about all she could bring herself to do before landing.
It was not a smooth landing, but they were finally down and pulling to the gate. As Charla exited the plane, she was reminded again by the policy of signs with names on them for those who were being met at the airport. Charla was not. She was no one important.
She waited for her luggage, which took almost an hour. Customs was always such a chore, people snooping through her panties. She was certainly familiar with landing in New York and just had to put up with it.
Charla hailed a taxi to the Belvedere Hotel on W. 48th Street, just above mid town and in the theatre district. Perfect for the few days she planned to stay in New York. She’d stayed there before and $250 a day was worth it.
At least Charla was not tired. She had a great night’s sleep and was ready to hit the bricks of New York City. She checked into the hotel, staff viewing her passport and driver’s license, using an American Express card for her charges.
She headed over toward the theatres to see what tickets she could get, but decided first that she needed breakfast. Passing by Armando’s, it looked like just where she wanted to eat.
Over the next four days, Charla slept, ate, shopped, and in general thought nothing of the next part of her life. And then came the time when she had to go back to reality. It was time for the flight to Boston. She made arrangements for a flight into Logan, the best schedule with American Airlines. It didn’t take long to check out of the hotel. She had one bag more than when she arrived from Zurich, which was not bad for a woman with unlimited time and funds.
She had a reservation for two nights at The Lenox Hotel and the realtor she’d contacted was sure she would have an apartment within the two days, especially when money was no object.
Chapter Fourteen
The landing at Boston’s Logan airport was uneventful. Charla looked good and rested, a tall blonde, simply made up and dressed as the career woman she was. After settling into her hotel room, she put her walking shoes on, a necessity, much like in San Francisco. She wasn’t far from Filene’s basement, so headed out the door. As she was nearing Filene’s, she received a phone call from the realtor advising her of a furnished apartment available now, meaning NOW as emphasized by the owner who was leaving for Europe. Rent was $3,000 a month but the building had amenities such as a gym, parking spot, free guest apartments for up to one week. She talked them into a rent of $2500 a month since she
She boarded the plane in Zurich, showing her passport as required, and found her way to the second row in first class. She had decided long ago that she would always go first class, no more being squeezed into a seat next to a crying toddler or half drunk 6 foot tall guy who wanted to be her best friend.
Her seat was row two, next to the window. She took off her jacket and made herself comfortable. It was another 40 minutes until the plane finally took off and she was on her way home.
Well, not really “home,” at least not for another year, but at least on United States soil. She sat back and was asleep within a few minutes, the frenzy of the last week finally getting to her. The worst part was that she was always afraid of making a mistake. Of course, that’s how she would have to live for the next year – not making a mistake.
Charla slept the entire trip to New York. She liked that as it kept her from having any dialog with a flight attendant. There it was, the Statue of Liberty, and approach to John F. Kennedy airport. Charla felt tears running down her face. She had not expected that reaction. Wiping her face and fluffing her hair was about all she could bring herself to do before landing.
It was not a smooth landing, but they were finally down and pulling to the gate. As Charla exited the plane, she was reminded again by the policy of signs with names on them for those who were being met at the airport. Charla was not. She was no one important.
She waited for her luggage, which took almost an hour. Customs was always such a chore, people snooping through her panties. She was certainly familiar with landing in New York and just had to put up with it.
Charla hailed a taxi to the Belvedere Hotel on W. 48th Street, just above mid town and in the theatre district. Perfect for the few days she planned to stay in New York. She’d stayed there before and $250 a day was worth it.
At least Charla was not tired. She had a great night’s sleep and was ready to hit the bricks of New York City. She checked into the hotel, staff viewing her passport and driver’s license, using an American Express card for her charges.
She headed over toward the theatres to see what tickets she could get, but decided first that she needed breakfast. Passing by Armando’s, it looked like just where she wanted to eat.
Over the next four days, Charla slept, ate, shopped, and in general thought nothing of the next part of her life. And then came the time when she had to go back to reality. It was time for the flight to Boston. She made arrangements for a flight into Logan, the best schedule with American Airlines. It didn’t take long to check out of the hotel. She had one bag more than when she arrived from Zurich, which was not bad for a woman with unlimited time and funds.
She had a reservation for two nights at The Lenox Hotel and the realtor she’d contacted was sure she would have an apartment within the two days, especially when money was no object.
Chapter Fourteen
The landing at Boston’s Logan airport was uneventful. Charla looked good and rested, a tall blonde, simply made up and dressed as the career woman she was. After settling into her hotel room, she put her walking shoes on, a necessity, much like in San Francisco. She wasn’t far from Filene’s basement, so headed out the door. As she was nearing Filene’s, she received a phone call from the realtor advising her of a furnished apartment available now, meaning NOW as emphasized by the owner who was leaving for Europe. Rent was $3,000 a month but the building had amenities such as a gym, parking spot, free guest apartments for up to one week. She talked them into a rent of $2500 a month since she
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