Free Up for Love in London by Willow. Bonaire Page A

coffee pod, or English
breakfast tea, I opt for cappuccino and consider my choices for
breakfast. I could dig into my totebag and probably unearth some
cheese and crackers left over from my crew snack box. But the new
me is feeling bold and adventurous.
    What the hell, Merry Christmas Lauren. I peruse the room service menu and order the most decadent and
expensive meal. Scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, blinis with
cream cheese and caviar and freshly-juiced papaya and mango. Since
I have to work in a few hours, I pass on the Champagne.
    I dry my hair
while waiting for the meal to arrive. I’m still in my robe when
there’s a knock on the door. I’m half-expecting Charles, or at
least a note from him, but the waiter is merely professionally
courteous. Thank God it’s a different server from last night.
    He bows and
sets the table quickly, lifts the lid to show me the food, then
replaces the lid and pours the juice into a small crystal glass.
“Enjoy your meal, miss,” he says, as he backs out of the room with
the trolley.
    With moves like
that, he’d make a great flight attendant.
    I’m amazed I
feel like eating at all, as heartache usually causes me to lose my
appetite. I’m either still hoping that Charles will call, or I’m
already following my new resolution. It doesn’t matter as I savour
the solo meal enthusiastically.
    I pack my bags
and get ready for the flight at a leisurely pace. I leave the dress
in the closet, admiring it one last time before I leave, tugging my
suitcase behind me. When I hand in my key card, the receptionist
says only Thank you, Happy Christmas, and as I presumed, any room
charges were billed to Charles.
    Outside, the
air is crisp and invigorating, shaking the last remnants of the
night from my head. No one asks for details of my evening, they’re
busy chattering about their plans for today, and excited to be
going home.
    The roads are
nearly empty so the ride to the airport goes quickly. The flight
too passes without incident – a group of passengers happy they’ll
be spending the holidays with loved ones.

    CHAPTER 9 ~ Now or Never
    It’s now December 30th. Richard is
back on the flight and the load this time is somewhat less than
before. We’ll arrive in London on the morning of the
31 st , in
time for partying if anyone chooses. The crew is neither all junior
nor senior, but like Goldilocks’s bowl of oatmeal, just right. Some
are singles looking for a good party in London, others have brought
spouses and significant others, knowing that the flight home on
January 1 st will have lots of open seats, perhaps even in first class.
Richard brought his partner Gordon and they have plans for a posh
dinner with the consulate crowd.
    I’m travelling
solo again so I’m up for anything. After the dinner service is
complete, we discuss our ideas for the night. I don’t want to tell
Richard about my latest romantic debacle. He’s having so much fun
spoiling Gordon.
    Some have
already booked dinner at the Greek restaurant, an easy choice. A
few pubs will be open for anyone while more upscale clubs demand
advance bookings. Others might free range, dropping in on fireworks
at the London Eye or on the Thames. Of course, some will just
slam-click their door and watch it all on TV, if they’re still
awake.
    The bus ride to
the hotel takes longer than usual this morning, as we get stuck
behind the Queen’s horses as they promenade through the city. It’s
not a sight I’ve ever witnessed before, so it lifts my spirits to
see them, making me feel glad to be a flight attendant.
    As the bus
creeps to a halt waiting for them to pass, everyone wakes up,
providing a chance to firm up their plans. I leave my options open,
and promise to meet at the bar at the usual six p.m.
    Charles had
been texting for the first part of the week, but stopped after I
didn’t reply. Well, I actually did reply once but my response was
very straightforward. I apologized for my outburst, admitting that
I could have