“Spit it out,” he says again, this time holding out his hand in front of my mouth. He’s at least smiling.
This time I make a noise with my head shaking.
Then he lunges toward me to grab my head with his hands. I shake and start spitting bits and pieces out to please him. Then he does something that I swear, and you’ve heard it here first, I will never forgive him for.
He licks his hand and wipes it across my face.
“Okay, you can have it,” he says as he sits back down in his seat.
My face is now wet, but at least I have the bread. I swallow before I punch him in the arm and ask, “What was that for?”
He doesn’t meet my gaze. “Well, I figured it was only fair. Since you drooled on me so much and stole my snack. Did you like that?” He turns to smile then sees my face and laughs instead. “I think I bring out violence in you.” I feel water dripping down my chin and want to scream.
“Didn’t you say you had a thing about water?” He leans in a little too close for comfort “Does that include bodily fluids, too? Like spit?”
He stops inches from my face and smirks. “How do you even kiss a guy if you can’t handle a little spit, huh?”
Wanting to spit on him for saying such a thing, I take evasive action and grab the water bottle on his tray and pour it over his head. It was well deserved for such a cruel comment.
“Oh my,” I say as I put my little finger to my chin. “I guess I’m not so scared of water after all. Towel?”
Just then Brad turns around to ask Preston a question. He burst into laughter when he sees little water droplets cascading from Preston’s hair. The little rat, he even looks good all wet. If he had done the same thing to me, I’d look like a caged raccoon. How is it fair that he looks like he just got done shooting a commercial underneath a waterfall?
“Dude, you okay?” Brad asks as he nudges Kristin to turn around. She puts her hand over her mouth and chuckles then shoots me daggers as if to ask, “Did you do this?”
I look away quickly as I try to avoid any sort of eye contact from her. The whole mom radar makes me feel guilty. Now I wonder if I pushed it too far. What’s wrong with me? He must work hard thinking of ways to bring out the worst in me.
Preston wipes his face with the towel I threw at him and grunts. “I’m okay, just needed a little refreshing, isn’t that right, Amanda?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny his accusations,” I say, putting my hand over my heart, forcing myself not to blink as three sets of judgmental eyes point my way.
“Are we there yet?” I ask as I pull out my new magazine. Maybe if I change the subject everyone will forget my little water incident.
Preston looks at me and scowls before asking Kristin if she has a sedative she can give me for my irritability, at which I then openly mock him by repeating what he asked in a whiny voice. Maybe I do need a sedative or something.
“She doesn’t do well in small spaces,” Kristin answers as she gives me a pitiful look.
“Oh my gosh, Mrs. Butterworth!” Jumping out of my seat forgetting that my seatbelt is still attached, I notice people are staring.
“Easy, tiger,” Preston says as he helps unbuckle me. “And why are you yelling your cats name in first class? People are staring.” He whispers too close to my face if you ask me.
“I forgot to leave her food and water. She has to be going crazy on this flight. Do you think they’ll let me run down there and slip her something?” Asking this question must seal Preston’s assessment of my mental, or lack there of, stability. Preston’s expression is calculating, and I wonder if he thinks I actually am crazy.
“Um sure, Amanda, why don’t we just ask the pilot if you can go into the cargo storage while the plane is moving and feed your cat, sounds totally reasonable?” Sarcasm drips off his every word.
“I think I hate you.” I re-buckle my seatbelt.
“You do not. You just hate me for what I bring out of you.”
“Which is?” I snort.
“Honesty,” he answers smugly.
“I was honest enough before you came along,” I fire back.
He leans over the arm rest towards me making my heart feel like it’s going to jump out of my chest. Surely he can hear it. “You get frustrated easily.” He picks up his hand as if to brush my hair from my face and wipes next to my mouth leaving where he touched permanently tingly. “You had a little leftover bread.”
I then took the liberty of punching him square in the chest before turning toward the window in frustration. The pilot then came over the loud speaker letting everyone know we’d be landing within the next hour. Hold on, Mrs. Butterworth.
Chapter Nine
To say the plane ride was the longest of my life would be a gross understatement. I have two years worth of restless energy just waiting to explode, but I have no time to think of such things, especially since Mrs. Butterworth needs me.
I run to claim my small animal and nearly cry when I see her little crate. With great emotion, I pull it off the conveyor belt and set her free! Only wait, that’s not my cat. What the—I have just opened up the cage to a giant iguana. Where is Mrs. Butterworth?
“Mom, someone’s stealing Izzy!”
Spinning around to look at the little boy who was ratting me out, I find a large Hawaiian woman with a miu miu on glaring at me. “Give the boy his iguana and I won’t press charges.” The mom is now in my face. Beads of sweat pouring from her forehead as she leans in closer.
“Um.” I’m stammering. “I thought it was my cat, I’m so sorry I didn’t know. Here.” My words tumble out as I hand them the cage and continue to apologize as the little boy bursts into tears.
“She hurt him! Look he’s bleeding!” The boy is pointing at the iguana’s foot and tugging at his mom’s dress at the same time.
Oh. My. Gosh. I’m going to prison.
“Trouble?” I didn’t know Preston was that close to me until now. What does he think he’s going to do? Charm her to death?
“Mr. December!” The woman yells as she throws a camera at her small child and paws her way toward Preston. “Is it really you?”
Preston’s chuckles as he shoots me a “you’re welcome” glance and answers, “Why of course it is!”
The lady asks for his autograph, apologizes for the confusion when Preston explains to her that “yes, I’m sorry about my friend you see, she’s sick, she forgot to take her pills this morning and thinks every animal is her long lost cat”.
Then they both look at me with sad eyes before she answers, “Oh the poor dear, well here for your troubles.” And proceeds to hand him a box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts.
“Thank you, Sue,”
Oh great now they’re on a first name basis.
“It’s just hard sometimes when you love someone so much but they don’t know it.” Oh awesome, and now he’s fake crying. Perfect, shoot me now. She embraces him as he fake cries on her shoulder all the while giving me a thumbs up behind her back.
Sue, as he called her, leaves just in time for me to stomp up to him and raise my fist.
“Whoa there, careful where you bust those things out at,” he says pulling my hands down to my sides. Apparently, my hands are now weapons.
“Unbelievable,” I say pushing past him.
“What is?” He catches up to me.
“Your ability to sweet-talk anything wearing a skirt,” I say exasperated.
“So…” He steps in front of me, blocking my view of the conveyor belt. “Does that mean we’re excluding men? Because I’ve sweet talked my fair share of the male species, not that it’s something to brag about.” His smile is all together way too alluring for his own good.
“Curse you and your stupid fireman good looks,” I say, pointing my finger into his face.
He takes my finger and pulls me into a freakishly tight embrace. “Admit it, you kind of like me.” His lips are now inches from mine, causing me to do the double take between his eyes and his lips. Let’s be honest, every girl does it. It’s like the dance before the kiss happens the time when the eye contact goes from “hey I might kiss you” to “hey I’m going to kiss you’.
“I’m not going to kiss you,” Preston answers, interrupting my daydreaming.
“Did I ask you to?” I push him away so I can watch for Mrs. Butterworth.
“If that wasn’t you asking, I don’t know what is.” He leans over the conveyor belt and lifts Mrs. Butterworth’s cage into the air to examine the damage. “It appears Mrs. Butterworth has escaped.”
I feel faint. “What?”
“Look.” He points to the lock for the cage. I notice with absolute horror that he’s correct in his assumption. Not only is the lock broken, but Mrs. Butterworth isn’t inside.
Panic rises up within my throat as I look around the outside airport for any sign of a cat-napper. “We have to call the police,” I say, tugging his shirt for him to follow me.
“What?” He stops in his tracks and looks at me as if I’ve just told him I plan on murdering him and burying him in my back yard.
“We need to call the police.” I say it slower, irritated he didn’t catch it the first time.
His look turns pensive as he answers, “It’s not that I didn’t hear you, I just don’t understand why we need to call the police and inform them that your nak*d cat has escaped. She could be anywhere.” He lifts his arms in the air.
My throat starts to close as tears threaten to fall down my face. Not again, I can’t cry in front of this man again. It’s not just a cat, though, and everyone knows it. Well, only Kristin and I know it. I continued to nod my head in understanding, but feel myself weaken as I see Kristin and Brad walk our way.
“You guys ready?” Brad calls as he nears us.
Kristin looks at me with mixed confusion then Preston fills her in. She rushes to my side. “It’s not just a cat, Preston. We need to call the police.”
Preston rolls his eyes again. “What am I missing? Does this cat possess diamonds in its belly or something? Some sort of national security secret?” He’s trying to tease me, but I’ve had enough. I cry as Kristin pulls me into a hug and tries to console me.
Brad whispers to Preston, “The cat, it was a gift from her dad. He gave it to her for graduation. It was the last present she got from him before he died.”
Preston’s face pales at the news. He mutters that he’ll be right back before I break into sobs again. Why was I so stupid? Why would I bring my cat? I could have left her home where she’d be safe, and now it’s my fault that she’s gone. We aren’t going to search the entire island of Maui for her, it wouldn’t be fair. And she doesn’t even know how to find her way back home, considering it's across the ocean.
Kristin leads me to a chair where I sit. Brad brings me some bottled water and Pepsi to get my sugar levels normal after all that crying.