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Mile High: Special Edition (Windy City #1)(8)

Author:Liz Tomforde

Me: I’ll be watching. There’s a sports bar a few blocks away. I’m sure they’ll have it on TV.

Ryan: Or you could watch it from your hotel room…alone.

A laugh slips from my lips. Ryan knows he has no control over who I spend my time with, but he may be the most protective brother of all time.

Me: Too protective.

Ryan: I’m your older brother. It’s my job.

Me: Three minutes older.

Ryan: Still counts. Gotta get to the arena. Be safe. Love you, Vee.

Me: Love you. Kick ass.

As soon as I exit out of our messages, I redownload my Tinder app. I never use the apps when I’m home, but one of the perks of spending a good amount of time on the road is the casual hookup with a stranger.

I feel more confident in bed when it’s someone I know I’ll never see again. I don’t worry too much about how my body looks or how soft I feel under someone random. I get to let loose and feel good with the sole purpose of getting off, knowing they’ll never lay eyes on me again.

I swipe right on a few attractive men, but I swipe left on even more who are too handsome for their own good. And Denver’s men seem to be more beautiful than other cities I visit, so I swipe left on more than usual, making sure I don’t get connected with someone I find to be too attractive.

I deal with enough insecurities on my own that I’m working to overcome. I don’t need to add batting out of my league just to get laid.

So, I stick to men I find attractive enough, but not so much so that their typical type are girls who may as well be on the covers of magazines.

Within a matter of minutes, almost everyone I swiped right on matches with me, giving me a boost of confidence. Shopping through my options, I land on a guy who lives outside of the city, with his bio reading, “Just looking for a hookup.”

I love the honesty, and that’s precisely what I’m looking for too.

As I’m drafting my extremely charming and witty opening line, there’s a knock at my hotel room door.

Dropping my phone on the bed, I throw a sweatshirt over my head before squinting through the peephole, finding my other new coworker, Tara, on the other side.

“Hey.” I swing my door open with a smile.

“Can I come in?” she asks without much expression on her face, which makes me worried. But also, I just worked an entire flight with her, and not once did she smile unless it was directed at one of our passengers.

“Of course.” I usher her in. She takes a seat in the chair at the desk as I plop myself back on the edge of my bed.

“How was your first day?” Tara asks.

Oh, okay, so she is being nice. “It was great. Everyone seems really cool.”

“I heard you’ve worked with professional athletes before.”

“Yeah, I was flying a basketball team out of Charlotte the last few seasons, but this is my first time working for a hockey team.”

I assumed that would start a conversation about my past work experience, as most people flip out with excitement when they learn I worked for a professional basketball team, but instead, it leads her into the real reason she’s here—to try to intimidate me.

“Well, this isn’t your last job, so I want to reiterate some rules.”

And here we go.

“First of all,” Tara begins. “I’m the lead flight attendant, which means this is my airplane, my crew, and my hockey team. I don’t care that you have experience in the athletic charter business. I’m the one in charge here.”

“Of course,” I respond without a second thought. I know these types of girls. I’ve worked with them before. They want to be seen, they want to be known by the clients, and I’m not one for a power struggle. I couldn’t care less who’s in charge on the airplane. I’m just here to do my job. Get in, get out, and get paid. That’s all this is to me—a job.

“I’ll be up in the front with the coaching staff all season while you and Indy run the back of the plane with the players. But I want to reiterate. There will be no fraternizing with any of our clients—players, coaches, or staff. If you do, you’ll be fired. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I confidently state. She’s trying to intimidate me, but that’s not going to work.

“I’m in charge here,” she continues. “Anything the team needs goes through me.”

“Sounds good.”

“I don’t know how your last job worked, and I don’t care. Anything goes down with you and someone on board, especially a player, you’re fired.”

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