The entire flight has been surreal. The luxury of the plane. The accommodations. The company I sat next to and got to know more on a personal level.
But the one thing that still confounds me about his invitation to be his “fake date” is why he’d ask me. Why not a woman he actually wants to date? He must know a slew of women, regardless of the city, that would drop everything to accept a date with Marek Talbert.
As we wait for the deplaning to begin, I drop my hand to Marek’s wrist to gain his attention. He swings his face toward me with a curious look.
“I’ve thought about your invite and I have a question I need clarified. Well, two, actually…”
Marek tilts his chin to the side. “Sure. What’s up?”
I glance around the cabin to ensure no one is paying any attention to us, but everyone is either chatting, has headphones on, or is completely oblivious to our conversation.
Nevertheless, I keep my voice low and soft. “Why ask me? Why not someone else you…well, who youwantto hang out with? There must be a ton of women at your disposal.”
I whisper the next part. “Or even an escort service.”
Marek barks out a laugh, causing the PR guy, Glen, to look back at us from a few rows forward. But then he turns around and moves up the aisle as we both stand up, ready to exit the plane.
Marek twists his head and speaks to me from over his shoulder as he begins to walk toward the cabin door.
“Well, first off, I don’t pay for dates. Second, I don’t think I could find one that’s as easy to talk to as you are. You’re already on the guest list. You shouldn’t be bored out of your skull since basketball will be the evening’s topic. And…”
He quirks a smile that, if I weren’t standing in the middle of the plane’s galley preparing to exit, I might melt from the heat it gives off.
“You’re a very attractive woman. Seems like a slam dunk for me.”
With that, he swings his bag over his shoulder and steps out of the plane as I’m left standing with my mouth gaping open incredulously from his comment.
This trip just got a whole lot more interesting.
And that’s saying a lot.
* * *
Several carsand drivers are already waiting for our entourage to take all of us to the hotel near the arena where most of us will be staying for the weekend. Although he has plans to stay at his friend’s house, Marek rides along to save an extra trip and comes inside the hotel to make sure we all get settled in with our accommodations.
I’m in the back of the queue, passing the time by checking my email and phone messages as I wait for my turn to check in and get my access keys. Marek stands off to the side, talking with two of his coaches, while I try valiantly to keep my eyes from wandering over to him.
God, he looks so fine in those jeans. They are snug where they should be and tapered to fit his long legs. Each time I glance over to check him out, his gaze is on me too. I’m so distracted, I don’t hear the receptionist calling for the next guest in line.
“Next, please,” the front desk clerk calls out.
Doug shoves me in the back from behind. “That’s you.”
I stumble forward toward the front counter, stepping up to Leddy, the front desk agent. “How may I help you, Miss?”
I smile and hand her my credentials. “I’m checking in. I’m press with the Puget Sound Pilots. There should be a room under the name Harper Conrad.”
Leddy types my name into her computer, her long, brightly painted, blue fingernails clickety-clacking as they tap over the keyboard.
“Hmm…is it under Conrad or Harper? Or do you have a confirmation I can use to reference the reservation?”
My eyebrows pinch together. “Harper is my first name. Conrad my last. Let me check my email to see if I have a confirmation number.”
“Okay, just a moment.”
Leddy continues her search as I blindly fumble through my Inbox in search of anything related to my hotel reservation that someone in the team’s travel department made for me last week. Leddy hums and huhs as she searches, making me slightly nervous. Not finding anything in my email, I don’t have a lot of hope that Leddy will find anything, either. I can’t even remember the name of the girl who called me with the travel reservations last week. She simply offered them to me verbally, stating she’d send me an email to confirm. But I got sidetracked and never checked. Shit.
As if I spoke that out loud, Leddy asks, “Did you happen to find your reservation number?”