A Plane Proposal

By Emjae Edwards

A crash is generally defined as two objects colliding with enough force to cause damage, but Lindsey and Garnet effect damage by walking away from one another. When they meet again, eight years later, they must deal with their past in the middle of industrial sabotage and terrorist threats. In this story, love might not get a chance to find a way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inknbeans Press
• Release date: Jan 5, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452400754

Emjae Edwards

Emjae considers herself a professional romantic, but don't call her work romantic fiction. Like everyone else around Inknbeans, she prefers the term contemporary relationship fiction. She started writing fiction for her grandmother more than twenty years ago, and only recently decided to pick up quill and ink and begin again, after toiling far too long as a technical writer.She lives in a little castle on a hilltop in Southern California with the demanding and indifferent Lord Mogwollen, her collection of tea pots, crochet hooks and coffees from around the world. She is the last living Dodgers fan.

Book preview

A crash is generally defined as two objects colliding with enough force to cause damage, but Lindsey and Garnet effect damage by walking away from one another. When they meet again, eight years later, they must deal with their past in the middle of industrial sabotage and terrorist threats. In this story, love might not get a chance to find a way.

What are people saying about

Emjae Edwards’ work?

Once again, Emjae Edwards has written a story that transports the reader into the minds, hearts, and locales of the characters. When you have finished 'Learning to be Irish', don't be surprised if you speak with a brogue (the accent, not the shoe) and bleed shamrocks. More Books Please, Amazon reader

Emjae Edwards takes us for a very exciting ride as we follow Garnet Steele from one coast to the other, trying to get her life back together after her first love goes very wrong. Highly recommended. Kristie Leigh Maguire, Romance Author

I really liked this story. This is the second book I've read by this author and what can I say but she is amazing at writing. Nicky, Amazon reader

Every once in a while Emjae amazes us with a turn of phrase that stuns us. We have to go back and read it again. For example: "Johnny Mathis' Chances Are melted out of the speaker." Barbara Benson, Amazon reader

A Plane Proposal

by

Emjae Edwards

Smashwords Edition

Published

by

Inknbeans Press

Cover: Emjae

© December 2009 Emjae Edwards

and Inknbeans Press

© January 2013 Emjae Edwards

And Inknbeans Press

All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

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To he that believes in me

Chapter One

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to American Horizons Flight 714, Garnet said brightly into her handheld microphone. We’ll be flying at an altitude of thirty thousand feet, and expect to land in Los Angeles at approximately four pm, Pacific Standard Time. Weather reports are indicating a mild flight, and although we are all shivering here in New York City, we can expect a balmy seventy five degrees when we arrive at the Los Angeles International Airport. Garnet watched her passengers exchange smiles of anticipation. She could always recognize those flying to the West Coast for the first time by their reaction to the predicted climate.

Now, if you’ll notice these exit signs - here, and here, and way in the back where Brenda is pointing - wave to us, Brenda. Thank you. She paused again as some passengers craned their necks to look at the pretty black girl who waved to them with the smile of a beauty queen who had just recently passed on her crown.

Garnet’s mind wandered as she finished the discourse, her eyes scanning the passengers seated in the First Class section. It was heartening to see so many seats filled. The fledgling airline had been one of the hardest hit by the recent loss in consumer confidence. The usual lot, she decided, indifferent to the many famous faces she saw in the course of her working day. Nice looking, but usual; an actor here, a famous attorney there, traveling with a recently newsworthy politician, and a--her heart suddenly lodged in her throat--musician.

Brenda, who had worked the First Class section with Garnet more than any of the other flight attendants, looked up curiously when Garnet faltered. Although no one else would have noticed the momentary break in her explanation of emergency procedures, Brenda knew her friend’s recital too well not to suspect that something, quite abruptly, had disturbed her.

Brenda’s skin prickled anxiously. She knew that there were plenty of people who resented the way the brand new airline was working its way to the top of everyone’s list of favorites, and there had been more than one threat to write the end to their phenomenal success story. She wondered if Garnet had spotted something suspicious, and she couldn’t wait for the routine to be finished so that she could corner and interrogate the Senior Flight Attendant.

Garnet managed to finish her speech, and with leaden feet, forced herself down one aisle to check seat belts on passengers. By dawdling over a child in the politician’s party, she contrived to let Brenda pause over him, smiling her beauty queen smile instead of the one he might remember, the one he once said he loved.

As she felt the familiar sway of the plane slowly taxiing toward the runway, she strapped herself into her own seat, facing out over the varied expressions of the passengers. They ran the gamut, from mild discomfort to outright fright. On this take-off, however, her eyes were drawn to only one face, where the eyes were already closed and the long, lean fingers were laced across a chest rising and falling evenly. Even in the midst of her confusion and shame, irritation welled. He would be asleep already.

Eight years had not taken the youthful vitality from him, she allowed grudgingly, smoothing her cobalt blue uniform over her knees. His hair was still lushly blue-black, as were the thick brows and curly lashes which formed half circles over his deeply tanned cheeks. He was still slim and hard, with a firm jaw and lips that seemed too sensual for such a masculine man. Even in repose, the dimples that caused women to swoon were evident, and she knew that the smile that he had used while crooning those lusty love songs would be just as sexy as it had been eight years ago. His eyes, too, would still be just as blue-nearly as blue as her uniform! she realized with a startled fingering of the material. No wonder she had liked the choice instantly. With a resentful sniff, she pushed the fabric from her fingers, and focused again on her assessment of him.

He shifted in his slumber, and his lips parted in a sigh; his teeth were still straight and white, to flash as he sang, waved and danced around the stage in a frenzy of musical passion and enthusiasm. Garnet felt a painful tug at her heart as she closed her eyes and saw him as she saw him for the first time.

It was as if the eight years had never intervened.

Ed-dee, Ed-dee, chanted the girls crowded around the stage door, waiting eagerly for the sexy, exciting and deliciously wicked Eddy Lynn, to make his escape from the theater. Eddy Lynn had a reputation for never trying the many tricks used by other performers such as doubles and second cars and unusual exits. In more than one interview, this survivor of the boy band phenomena had admitted he liked the mad rush and the girls grabbing frantically for him, tearing at his clothes, touching him. Why do you think I got into this business? he often quipped.

Ed-dee, Ed-dee. Eighteen year old Garnet Emily Steele was chanting along with her sisters in music, exhilarated by the sensation of living again. For the past six months, ever since her family had been suddenly and tragically snatched from her, she had been passing through the days in a numbed and black bordered fog, growing old and dry and bitter. It wasn’t until a girlfriend, returning from college for a holiday, coerced her into attending a concert by the popular singer that Garnet had her first contact with civilization since the funerals. But, oh! it felt marvelous to be out in the cool evening air, her body still pulsing with the erotic beat of the music. She felt young and fresh and alive, reborn by rock and roll, and she vowed then to start living again.

When the stage door opened, the semi-controlled crowd of nymphets went predictably wild, swelling toward the stairs. Garnet, who had just taken her eyes off the door long enough to adjust the strap on her sandal, was knocked off balance by the sudden surge of the throng, and found herself being kicked and trampled as she fell to the pavement.

She didn’t even cry out as people stumbled and stepped on her. She was pushed along the rough ground, being kicked and gouged and tripped over, but not seen. Just when she was surrendering to panic, the crowd miraculously parted, and she found herself looking up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen: the eyes of Eddy Lynn.

Without a word, those blue eyes had swept the scene; he evaluated the situation and gathered her up into his arms, bearing her along to the sleek black limousine that waited for him, as a sigh rippled through the crowd. Too stunned by the fall, and her unexpected position in the arms of a man millions of women dreamed about, to protest, she allowed herself to be settled into the plush interior and the car door slammed behind her.

With a groan, she forced herself upright as the car pulled away from the screaming mass of female fans. Brushing her long brown hair out of her eyes, she rubbed a grazed cheek tentatively. What a sight I must be, she thought, glancing around the cab for something reflective to support her deduction. The darkened windows proved her right; her tee shirt was torn, one sandal was gone, her hair was a tangled mass hanging down her back, and her face was smudged with dirt and blood. With a low and painful sigh, she turned her head and met those blue eyes once again.

Hello, he said cheerfully from the seat opposite her. He was resting his elbows on his knees, his chin was cupped in his hands, and his eyes were constantly moving as he gave her a serious study, then took the tour again, more slowly. Any bones broken, you think?

She smiled in spite of her pain. His accent was as wonderful as she had imagined. What was it about that English affectation that was so appealing to Midwestern girls? I don’t think so, she began hesitantly. I really must thank you, Ed-er....um...Mister...Mister... She trailed off helplessly. How did one address an international recording god, anyway? She had a vague memory of being taught how one greeted certain levels of royalty, and he was as close to royalty as she would ever get.

Eddington, he stuck out a hand, Lindsey Eddington.

For a moment, the dismay must have shown on her face. Had she been rescued by someone who merely resembled the man himself? Was she with a decoy used to help the real Eddy Lynn to get away? She had always believed he was above all those ruses and deceptions, but was that merely one of his deceptions?

He laughed at her evident disappointment. That’s my real name, he assured her. It’s just too cumbersome for the record labels so I shortened it to Eddy Lynn, to my father’s eternal disgust.

She took the hand now. A pleasure, Mr. Eddington. The contact with his hand felt electric, and she felt herself on the verge of a giddy giggle. No swooning or gushing now, she admonished herself, although she had never been inclined to do either before. After all, this man has probably saved your life. At least be dignified about it.

Oh, please, he groaned. "Not Mister Eddington. Eddy. Just Eddy. Everyone calls me Eddy."

She couldn’t help the impulsive expression of displeasure.

One jet brow went up, curiously. Is something wrong with my name? he challenged.

Well, she paused, feeling embarrassed, now that I know your real name, I think I like Lindsey better, she blurted out. And now you’ve made a complete idiot of yourself, she scolded silently.

You do? There was the barest suggestion of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

She nodded, pink faced. He was making fun of her, and he had every right. Here she was with this gorgeous, sophisticated man, and she was acting like a middle school student with her first crush. How juvenile!

Well, so do I, he said, the smile blossoming until it was fully evident on his face. Unfortunately, you and I seem to be in the minority. No one, not even my agent, can seem to remember my name is Lindsey. Tell you what, he offered and the smile became a grin, you call me Lindsey, and I’ll love you forever. He patted the hand he held captive. And by the way, what shall I call you?

Oh...um... Oh! how could she forget her own name? Garnet, she managed, feeling her face going hot. That man had such a captivating smile. It seemed to hold her mind the way his fingers held her hand. Garnet Steele.

Garnet Steele, eh? He laughed, showing those magnificent white teeth. You sound a bit like an engagement ring, don’t you?

I guess I do. She couldn’t help laughing, and she hadn’t felt like laughing in so long. Not since... You probably saved my life, she said, sobering.

He had marked the sudden change in her and cocked his head to one side, speculatively, but something must have warned him not to probe, for he straightened and smiled again. And you most certainly saved mine.

I did? Her eyes widened into huge almonds of pastoral green. How did I do that?

He sat back in the seat, gesturing toward the windows. Why, by throwing yourself at my feet, of course.

’Throwing myself’? she repeated, close to spluttering. If you think I did this to myself just to meet you, you have a greater sense of your importance than-

Easy. Easy now. There was a merry sort of twinkle in his eyes. It was just a figure of speech, that’s all. Besides, if I hadn’t had to take the time to rescue you, I would have had no excuse but to attend this dull, dull, dull afterglow with the daughter of my manager--a woman who happens to think she holds the patent on my life, and... he paused, the twinkle fading, who is in grave error. The twinkle came back. Still, I did promise to go, didn’t I?

If you didn’t want to go, why did you promise? Garnet asked.

He shrugged. She always manages to catch me at a moment when there’s no gracious way to tell her what I really want. Of course, I can’t go, now, can I? I have you to look after.

Look, I don’t want to be responsible for making you break a promise, she cried, horrified at the very suggestion. Garnet had been raised to believe a promise should be held sacred.

Of course you do, ducks, he assured her. Because, if I had gone, I’d probably drink too much out of sheer boredom, and then I’d have to cancel my show tomorrow night on account of my bad head. He reached out and caught a strand of her tangled hair. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for that, would you?

I guess not, she agreed breathlessly, slightly overwhelmed by the possibility that she might have some effect on Eddy Lynn-no, Lindsey Eddington’s life.

Right, then. It’s agreed: I saved your life and you saved mine. According to all legends and tribal laws, that makes us indebted to one another for the rest of our lives. He nodded, as if very satisfied with the idea of being indebted to her, and vice versa. And, speaking of the rest of our lives, is there some chappie from whom I’ve rescued you?

Um...chappie? Oh, you mean a boyfriend. She shook her head.

He gave her another up-and-down look. No? He seemed to find this incredible.

No. A firm, flat statement that was true by her choice.

Oh. He absorbed this. Good. He settled back in the seat and sat up again just as quickly. I’ve just had a thought: What about mum and daddy? Are they sitting by the window, courting candle a-burning, waiting for you to get home?

A pang of tears threatened to close up her throat. No, she said, more intent on getting words out than the possible repercussions of such words. I live alone.

His eyes narrowed, but he put on a bright expression. Well, luck for me, then. So, it’s arranged. You’re spending the rest of your life with me, or at least this evening. We’ll go back to the hotel and... he flicked her another inquisitive glance and finally burst out, look, I don’t want to break any laws. Why are you all alone?

I’m old enough! she said indignantly, angered by the insinuation. I live alone because... she swallowed, because my parents died recently.

Oh...oh, ducks...sorry. He was hazily apologetic. He was still considering her. And you are...sixteen?

She shrank back in the plush upholstery, mortified. I’m eighteen. Nearly nineteen, she mumbled.

Really. He didn’t sound surprised, nor did he sound as if he was absolutely certain he’d heard the truth. I don’t mean to offend you, but seeing you upright and in almost proper light... his tone was placating, you have a rather young look about you. He reached across the cab to cup her chin in his hand and turn her face from one side to the other. You’ll be glad for it when you’re older, though. Now...oh, I know what it is, he proclaimed at length. It’s how innocent you look. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?

She twisted out of his grasp, blushing furiously. I think you can let me out at the next corner, Mr. Eddington, she said coldly.

Why? He was startled by her virulent reaction. Is it a state secret?

She scowled at him. It is my business, she answered. And around here you just don’t discuss such things with strangers. She twisted to look out the window. There’s a corner, let me off.

Hang on there. He caught her arm as she reached for the door handle. I’m sorry if I offended you with my observations. I wasn’t making fun, I swear. He waited until she had relaxed her grip on the door. In fact, I think it’s really admirable in this day and age that you don’t play fast and loose with your affections.

Admirable. She settled back, out of his grasp. I’ll just bet.

Truly. You think that’s a line? It’s not. I admit you’re a bit of a novelty to me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t admire you for it. Listen, he said, sitting back with a dismissive wave, I get propositioned all the time, little ones...twelve, thirteen, and they’ve been around, or on their way fast. He nodded, knowingly.

That’s terrible! Garnet shuddered. She wanted to ask him if he had ever accepted any of them, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Tell me about it, Lindsey agreed sadly. I look at these girls and say, ‘this could be my daughter’. Well... His mouth twisted up wryly, my little sister, perhaps. But it’s the nature of this beast called fame, isn’t it? In my line of work, I don’t get to meet too many girls with scruples. So, you see, he sat forward and patted her knee affectionately, you’re a novelty to me.

She shrugged away his caress, only mildly mollified. I’m not so novel. You can find any number just like me around here. This is a small town, and even if a girl was inclined to...to...well, there aren’t that many opportunities. Her eyes widened as she realized how she must have sounded to him.

With your looks? he hooted. I don’t care how far out into the heartland this town is, guys would be bussing in from Canada to take on someone as cute as you, if you were...available. No, ducks, it’s scruples. It’s morals, principles and propriety. He smiled at her reaction to his remark about her appearance. It was one of horrified realization of just how awful she must look.

Her hand flew to her hair in a vain attempt to smooth it down and he caught it in the air with ease and a chuckle. Don’t panic, ducks. Even trampled by a herd of human Shropshire sheep, you look good enough to eat. His eyes lit up. Food. I am absolutely famished. He flicked her a petulant look. They never let me eat anything before a show. Supposedly, it clogs the chords. He touched his million-dollar throat. I hate that. He pounded on the glass that separated him from the driver. Take me to food.

In spite of her wounded sense of virtue, Garnet had to suppress a giggle.

The giggle encouraged him and he grinned. I know. Let’s get room service! We’ll order in some burgers and malts- he stopped and eyed her. You’re not one of those ‘I can’t eat that, it’s bad for my figure’ types, are you? he demanded suspiciously.

No, she admitted with an unsuppressed giggle, I eat like a horse.

He drummed his fingertips on one thigh, unconvinced. How ‘bout ‘No chips or chocolate, it’s bad for my complexion’?

Garnet gave him a sidelong frown. You do like the young girls, don’t you? she observed, not kindly.

He didn’t appear offended by the suggestion. Not necessarily. Beth’s that way about food and she’s my age. He offered a conciliatory hand. All right. Then we’ll gorge ourselves on junk food, won’t we?

Who’s Beth? she wondered as she accepted his hand. And why am I getting jealous? As long as it’s understood that I’m not for dessert.

He let go of her hand. I get plenty of offers to come to the banquet, Miss Steele. I don’t need to muscle my way in where I’m not invited. It was his turn to snap.

She opened her eyes gratefully when Brenda nudged her. Hey, we’ve got thirsty passengers.

Garnet shot a glance toward that blue-black head. He was awake, staring past his neighbor to the rounded windows and the wispy clouds beyond. He seemed as far away as the clouds. She dragged herself upward. Don’t we always? she forced a laugh and followed Brenda down the aisle and into the galley that separated the First