The quiet in the Club was appreciated, especially as it came after the drama of meeting a Faerie Queen in the middle of my wedding, as well, as a nice break coming before having to get on a scary as heck airplane. The trip to San Diego hadn’t actually been that bad, but it was a short trip. How long was a flight to Florida?
“Our flight takes off around ten at night, Penelope. Then we’ll all go to sleep and wake up in the morning, and ,presto, we’ll be in sunny Florida.”
“What time will we get there?” I asked, not sure how sleeping on a plane worked.
“If the flight’s on schedule, about nine in the morning, just after we’ve been given a nice breakfast with coffee and orange juice,” Timothy said, smiling at me. “You’re not worried about flying are you?”
Of course, I shook my head and denied such a thing. It might have worked to convince everyone if Bob hadn’t snorted loudly in disbelief.
The guys all got up for dessert. I kind of wanted some of that soft serve ice cream, but the idea of eating anything more than I’d already had didn’t sit real well. Pancakes and omelets, plus ice cream? Even the coffee was curdling in my stomach.
I watched the guys shoveling in the gooey and sweets they’d just gotten, but I remained firm about having eaten my full. Even the chocolate chip cookie that Timothy had brought me remained on its plate until Bob asked if he could have it and then gobbled it up. It must be nice to have a wolf constitution that enabled unlimited eating without its doing more than increasing his already bulging muscles.
***
Since I was an experienced flyer now, as Timothy put it, I carried through with the boarding process with great aplomb. No worries over the passport and my ticket, no anxiety over a plane that seemed hidden behind a bunch of carboard walls, and no resentment when the stewardess openly flirted with Timothy. (I did lift up my hand and flash my ring a bit, but she probably didn’t notice, since her eyes were glued to his handsome features.)