Flame & Frost

Even though the air conditioning was on, the hot and humid New York summer night made the inside of the Airbus 320 feel stuffy. Every row that William passed as he boarded was utterly full. White mist flowed from the side air-conditioning vents in an attempt to keep the temperature comfortable.

The crying of a baby could be heard as he shuffled to the back.

Nothing like an inflight heavy metal concert!

The person in front of him stopped and stowed his carry-on. Finally, with no one in front of him, William quickly made his way to the back of the plane. Twenty-seven, Twenty-eight.

He stuffed his carry-on in the crowded overhead compartment as best he could. His damp T-shirt clung to him, and his black jeans stuck to his thighs.

“Sorry!” He apologized to the older, overweight man in twenty-eight C that he bumped.

“Miss, miss, miss,” the young woman sitting in twenty-eight A was lost in her thoughts. One of those corporate types by the look of the crisply tailored pantsuit.

“I believe this is my seat,” said William, pointing to twenty-eight B and the Louis Vuitton purse taking the space. Keep your crap on your side.

“Hu… Oh, sorry,” she said as she retrieved her purse. A wide, stunning smile developed on her face, which William ignored. Probably another air-head! He breathed deeply. He wasn’t this irritable typically.

“Yeah… Thanks!” He rolled his eyes and muttered, “inconsiderate.” Glaring, the woman’s smile turned into a frown. Oops!

“Sorry,” he apologized, “it’s this darn heat.” He forced a fake smile that she ignored.

On top of everything, she looked like Jennifer's twin. Memories he didn't want to visit.

Cursing the unbearable heat silently, he cranked the overhead air nozzle to its maximum.

William plopped onto the seat and put on his AirPods. Diana Krall started to sing, drowning out the incessant chatter and the engine noise. To his chagrin, the seat would not recline.

Exasperated, he closed his eyes and crossed his arms, having failed to secure an armrest. His knees pushed against the seat in front. His six-two frame just wasn’t made for coach.

The floral scent of his seat companion’s perfume reminded him of his mother. She was looking out the window, her body language broadcasting that she wanted nothing to do with him. That makes two of us, lady.

Flying coach in crowded planes wasn’t his thing. But this was the lifestyle he had chosen, for now.

Back to peace and quiet. He missed his little studio. I hate family gatherings, and mother's family is the worst.

By the time the plane took off, William was asleep.

“Argh! What the…” burning heat on his crotch startled him awake. An empty paper cup settled between his legs.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman winced as she took a paper napkin and moved to clean his pants before catching herself.

“Great, a personal coffee bath!” He complained. Then, he silently added, “Just what my balls needed,” while stopping her from dabbing in his private parts.

Her face turned bright red, “Sorry!” Then, as a further apology, “I’ll pay for your dry cleaning!”

The older man next to him chuckled.

“Here, sir,” the young flight attendant gave him a wad of napkins.

“Thanks. Can I change seats?” Before Jennifer's twin boils me alive.

“We’re totally booked. Let me bring a towel you can put on the seat.”

“I’m so so so sorry. I’ll change seats with you,” the woman offered, the grimace on her face deepening.

William sighed, “Don’t worry about it. No sense in both of us getting wet.” He chuckled. The ridiculousness of the scene and the now cooler cabin lightened his mood. Fortunately, the jeans are black, or it would look like I peed my pants.

“Here’s my card, Olivia Frost. At least let me pay for the cleaning,” she said in a businesslike tone. Her beautiful face, adorned with a broad, friendly smile, set him on edge. She's identical.

“William Huo,” he answered, the cramped space not allowing more than a nod, “it’s a… pleasure to meet you.” Calmer and slightly more rested, his heart skipped when he finally noticed her bright emerald eyes. She was a gorgeous woman.

The flight attendant returned with a towel and handed it to William.

“I’m going to stand up. Can you place this on the seat?” He asked Olivia, giving her the towel.

Standing with his tall frame was awkward, and he tried and failed not to disturb the person in front, “Excuse me!”

Sitting on the towel, he took a deep breath and continued his conversation. “They’re old jeans,” he lied, “it’ll wash right out.” Her floral scent filled his nostrils.

“Mr. Huo, I insist. I’ll buy you a new pair!” Calm yourself, Will. You don’t need a relationship right now.

“Miss Frost,” he said, checking the name on the card and her ringless finger, “there’s no need. It was an accident, and I’m sure it won’t stain. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m a little tired,” he said, restraining his urge to flirt.

“Rest well, Mr. Huo, and thank you for your graciousness.”

William walked leisurely toward the airport exit, pulling out his phone to get an Uber. In front of him walked Olivia. Just beyond the baggage claim, a myriad of people were waiting to receive the arriving passengers. PA announcements blended with the chatter of conversation and the sound of luggage wheels as they hurriedly moved through the space. The smell of rain was getting stronger as he neared the exit.

Suddenly, Olivia stopped mid-stride and turned around with a mortified look. Seeing William, her features smoothed, and she walked toward him.

“Mr. Huo… William… Will… Could you do me a favor?” Her question was accompanied by a dazzling smile.

“What’s next on the agenda, Ms. Frost? I don’t see you carrying another beverage,” William said in a flat business tone. That came out a little stronger than I wanted. He smirked and narrowed his eyes in mock sternness, trying to ease his response.

Her initial hopelessness after his harshness was replaced by a smile.

“It’s… a… little… embarrassing,” she said, hesitating for a couple of seconds before continuing with a determined look. Is this some type of con? Drop coffee on me, then approach during the exit?

“Could you pretend to be my boyfriend as we walk out?” She said with exaggerated innocence, eyes wide, each word a plea, finishing with a dazzling smile. I must have pissed off one of the fates. Maybe all three. Images of a woman he didn’t want to remember flashed briefly, and he tensed.

“Just hold my hand as we walk out,” she added, continuing to coax William. I thought she might want more.

Relieved, the tension drained. Why would a woman like her need a pretend boyfriend? William’s eyebrows went up, questioning.

Without waiting for a reply, she took William’s hand, dragged him to her side, and resumed walking toward the exit.

As they approached a handsome couple clasping hands while waiting by the exit, she whispered, “Come a little closer. That’s my ex there with the bitch he dumped me for,” the hurt in her voice was apparent.

“Olivia?” The tall young man asked. His eyes fixed on William, a shocked expression on his face. Jealous? William started to understand the game.

“Hi, Ethan. Gotta run. Nice seeing you,” Olivia answered cheerfully, but her grip tightened. Her nervousness could be perceived. She quickly walked past them, dragging a more compliant William.

When they were far enough away, she commented, “That bastard left me one week before our wedding,” a mix of fury and hurt in her voice, “I guess it’s better than after the wedding.”

“Do you have your car here?” Olivia asked when they reached the outside of the terminal building, her grip on William’s hand still firm.

“Uh… no. I’m Ubering,” William responded, a hint of resignation in his voice. What more could she possibly want now?

Olivia’s eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze locking with his. Her voice had a stubborn edge, starkly contrasting to the playful tone she had used just moments ago.

“I’m giving you a ride,” she declared matter-of-factly, leaving no room for debate. Her stance was assertive, the set of her jaw indicating she wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. But as she moved toward the garage, she gave him a playful wink.

William, caught off guard by the shift in her demeanor, released her hand but silently acquiesced. He couldn’t help but be intrigued by this sudden display of determination.

Following her to the second floor of the parking lot, they approached a white Porsche Cayenne. As the rear gate lifted, William placed her suitcase in the car and closed the gate.

“Ah yes, the knight in damp denim, at your service, miss.”

Olivia laughed.

Awkward silent seconds passed as she stood gazing at him. Then, as if deciding, she stepped and closed the gap between them. William was about to step back, but she grabbed his hand, holding him in place. He tensed.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. She squeezed his hand briefly, gently. Their eyes met, and she leaned in and tenderly kissed him on the cheek, “Thanks, Will. You’re a true gentleman,” she whispered.

His eyes opened wide. His hand involuntarily went to his cheek. A mixture of delight and apprehension.

It was just what I needed—a plot twist in my life’s sitcom. He was tempted to pull her in, but she quickly stepped back before he could react.

He almost let out a sigh of relief. Thank you! My life has enough complications.

“Don’t overthink it!” She grinned with a mischievous look.

Then, she moved to the driver’s side and shouted, “Come on, I’ll take you home… Uh… I mean, I’ll give you a ride to your house,” she clarified her intentions. He smirked.