Chapter 5 — Pam

“Do you think it would be a bit much if I went down and kissed the tarmac?” I asked Gina, one of my crewmates for this trip, as we finally finished cleaning the aircraft.

She laughed at my comment while retrieving our suitcases from the crew cabinet. “Maybe, but that all depends on how long you’ve been away from home.”

“If you don’t count the whopping five hours I had at home last Monday before I hauled my ass back to a plane to cover for a friend, I’ve been away for eleven days.”

“And how many flights?” she asked with a raised brow.

I sighed and stole a glance at her as we finally exited the plane and stepped foot on LAX. “Nine.”

Gina’s eyes widened a bit, and her voice sharpened. “Okay, kissing the tarmac sounds about right. I can cover for you if you want.”

We both laughed as we made our way to immigration. This was our first time flying together, and I had thoroughly enjoyed it. She was younger than me but still very competent, funny and had a knack for nicknaming annoying passengers, which was my favorite kind of job humor. Working with her was almost like working with James but with less drama and someone to share the paperwork with.

“Thanks,” I said still giggling. “But I think I’m just going to be grateful I’m back and run home before someone decides to put me on another flight.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Gina agreed with a wink. Then, after a second, she asked, “Are you working that much because of the promotion?”

My brows pulled together in confusion. “What promotion?”

“They’re opening a few slots for international business and first class. There are some requisites to submit an application, and one of them is a minimum amount of flight hours as an international crew member, which is why my ass will be on another flight tomorrow morning.”

First class international was the dream of every flight attendant—this one included—and I was beating myself for not knowing about this. As we waited for immigration and made our way to the crew lounge to turn in our papers, I grilled Gina for information, and by the time we finally arrived at the room, I was confident in my chances.

Despite being extremely tired and in desperate need of a shower, my body was humming with excitement at this new opportunity. Anxious to go home, Gina clocked out and dashed back out in the blink of an eye, leaving me alone in the nearly empty room to browse for more news on the job I so desperately wanted.

Ignoring the handful of girls gathered around a man in a suit at the other end of the room, I walked to the bulletin board and started looking for the information about the promotion that Gina had told me about. Just as she had said, the poster was right at the center of the board, and I wasted no time to start reading it.

I was so engrossed in the information that I only realized someone was calling me when Megan Hansen—a petite and not very nice brunet I had seen in one of James’ parties—yelled my name. Slightly annoyed, I turned around to look at her and saw that not only her eyes but her friends’ as well were focused on me.

“Hi, Megan,” I greeted out of pure politeness.

A wicked smile formed on her face but I barely paid attention to it. My focused suddenly became entirely focused on the handsome and sharp dressed man standing between her and her friends.

Not remembering faces of passengers is kind of an occupational hazard for flight attendants. After all, we see so many people every day it’s hard to tell them apart sometimes. The face staring back at me, however, was one that had made an impact.

Mr. Walker.

Before I had a chance to greet him or ask what he was doing here, Megan’s voice echoed through the air once again. “Ben here was asking for you. Apparently, you two have a thing.”

There was a bite in her words, as if she couldn’t believe a man like Mr. Walker—or Ben, apparently—could ever be interested in me. Although her words made me thoroughly confused, I refused to let that awful woman get the best of me.

With a pounding heart and a stubborn attitude, I spread a broad smile on my lips and said, “Apparently, we do.” Turning my attention to him, I walked in their direction and added, “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said with a shrug, as if we really were something. Once I arrived in front of him, he placed a hand on my waist and kissed my cheek. “Thought I could take you out for dinner. There’s something very important I want to talk to you about.”

Our little display, though awkward as hell to me seemed convincing enough to make Megan and her harpies to lose interest and walk away. Once we were alone, I pushed Mr. Walker’s hand away from my waist and raised a brow at him.

“What’s happening here?” I demanded.

With a side smirk on his lips, he looked at the door behind me and said, “Apparently, we just told some mean girls to fuck off. Hadn’t done that in a few years. It was fun.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I retorted with a roll of eyes. “I’m asking about the thing we seem to have and the dinner you want to buy me. What the hell?”

Now, it was his turn to raise a brow at me, but where mine had been challenging his was teasing. “Well, we do have a thing. We talked about our crazy ass parents and their final wishes. That’s a thing. And, you’re a beautiful woman, Pam. Is it that hard to believe I would want to take you to dinner.”

“Yes, it is,” I deadpanned, and his smile widened a bit. “No matter how beautiful I am, you still look like someone who only dates girls who are half your age. So, either you’re an undercover agent for the company, and I’m in trouble for breaking protocol and engaging in a personal conversation with a passenger, or you have an agenda. Which one is it, Mr. Walker?”

The two of us stood in silence for a few moments. The firm way he stared at me made my gut hurt with fear that he really was a company agent about to crush my first-class international dreams. But just as I was about to give in to my freak out and apologize for being rude and unprofessional, he started laughing, and I relaxed just a smidge.

“My offer to hire you as an adviser still stands,” he said in between chuckles. “You’re smart and direct, two things I really like. And please, call me Ben.”

I blinked a few times before asking, “Fine. Is that what you want, Ben? To offer me a job?”

“Not exactly, but I do have a business proposition for you,” he replied. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take you out for a nice meal and talk. Would that be okay?”

Because I was tired, smelling like airplane and didn’t know him, my first instinct was to say no to his invitation. However, just like it had happened that day on the plane, there was something in me that made me feel like I was supposed to talk to him. It was hard to explain, but the feeling was so intense I simply couldn’t say no.

With a sigh, I replied, “Fine, but considering I didn’t even give you my name and you managed to find the exact time I arrived back in LA, we better eat something here at the airport because I’m not getting into a car with you.”

Ben nodded and agreed to my terms. I sent a quick text to Jessica telling her to order a pizza because I would be late and followed Ben out of the lounge. He guided me to one of the nicer restaurants in our terminal. As we walked, we made small talk about the places I had visited this week and how his business had been in NYC the previous week.

Once we finally arrived at the restaurant, Ben requested a table and pulled my chair for me to sit. My past experiences with men had been quite tragic, so his chivalry made me smile. He then told me to order anything I wanted from the menu and, taking him on his offer, I requested a plate of lobster tail with wild rice and greens. Ben ordered a steak and pasta for himself and a bottle of an expensive sounding wine.

With a nod, the waiter turned around and left. As soon as we were alone, I pulled in a deep breath and said, “Okay, Ben. Before we get into whatever it is you want to talk about, I gotta know something.”

“How I found you?” he asked, hitting the nail on the head.

I nodded. “Yeah, how and why.”

“The how is easy. I play golf with the chairman of the airline and called in a favor. He thinks we slept together and didn’t waste the chance to tease me about it, but you’re here, so I don’t care.”

The explanation raised more questions in my mind than it solved. However, before I could ask any of them, the waiter came back with our wine. Ben tasted and approved the bottle, and once the waiter was gone, he cleared his throat and poised himself to reply the second half of my request. Knowing that whatever he said next would determine how the rest of this dinner would go, I stayed quiet and paid a lot of attention.

“As for the why, that’s a bit more complicated, but please keep an open mind. That’s all I ask.” Despite the unease I felt, I nodded, and he continued, “Well, I spent a lot of time this past week thinking about what you said. About how I can honor my dad and remain true to who I am, and I think I finally came to a solution.”

Although I didn’t know for sure, I had an inkling about where he was going with this, and I wasn’t entirely sure I liked it. I picked up my glass and took a sizable gulp of my wine before asking, “And is that solution the business proposition you want to make?”

“Yes,” Ben agreed with a nod that made my heart start beating a little faster. Holding my eyes in his intense blue gaze, he reached inside his jacket and removed a small black box which he placed on top of the table, right between us. Then, in a business-like tone, he said, “I would like you to marry me.”

My eyes widened and almost popped out of their sockets. “What?”

The outrage was evident not only in my expression but also in my voice. Still, Ben didn’t seem the least bit affected by it. In fact, I could swear he even rolled his eyes at my reaction.

“Don’t be so shocked, Pam,” he blurted out casually. “I’m not asking you to be my wife in the emotional, let’s-grow-old together sense. What I’m offering you is a business deal that will benefit us both.”

“How will marrying a stranger benefit me?” I asked with a line forming between my brows and a growing resolve to tell him to go fuck himself.

A slow, cocky smirk formed on his lips. “We’re not strangers, we’re friends. And this deal will benefit you because aside from helping a friend fulfill his dead father’s wish and achieve his lifelong dream, you and your daughter will get to live comfortably in my home for a year with all of the perks that my lifestyle entails. Then, once we get divorced next year, you’ll receive a five-million-dollar settlement and get to keep everything my money bought you during our marriage. It’ll allow you to live the rest of your life enjoying your job even though the pay is shit.”

The visceral resolve to say no to his offer suddenly disappeared. As sad as it was to admit that the lure of money was getting to me, after twenty-two years of struggling to get by and working myself to the bone so Jessica could have the life she deserved, that was the truth. The idea of finally living comfortably and enjoying my life instead of just existing in it felt too good to pass without at least considering it.

Hoping to make an informed decision, I asked, “And you won’t expect me to fulfill my wifely duties?”

Ben tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in an expression that was amused but not disrespectful. “The only wifely duties I expect you to fulfill are business related—functions, events, dinner parties and such—in all other areas we can be friends and housemates. You don’t have to sleep with me, and I won’t be faithful to you.”

“Okay,” I said completely overwhelmed by the situation, but heavily leaning toward the yes. His face brightened at my reply urging me to explain myself. “That was just an ‘okay, I’ll consider it.’ This won’t just affect me my life, it’ll affect Jessica’s as well, and I have to make sure she’s on board.”

Despite a heavy sigh, Ben nodded. “I understand that, but I’m in a hurry. The board will meet next Tuesday to vote on my father’s successor, and I’d really like to be married by then.”

The idea of being married to someone I barely knew in less than a week made my stomach turn and my heart skip a few beats, but I still assured him that I would talk to Jess as soon as I arrived home and have a reply to him the next day. That answer seemed to please him and, with that part of the dinner behind us, we spent the rest of night getting to know each other.

In light of his proposal, I fished for as much information as I could and realized that as fake husband prospects went, I could do a lot worse.