To Kiss A King

Once I was out of view and hadn’t heard him calling for security, I held back tears as I fled the building. They were angry tears, not sad ones. Men like him thought anything could be bought.

“Screw him,” I almost said out loud as I stomped past guests seated downstairs, leaving whispers in my wake. Clearly, my emotions were written on my face as curiosity fueled soft conversations as I pushed through the doors and out onto the sidewalk.

A million questions plagued my mind as I considered my next move. I’d been driven here. The mile-high heels I wore weren’t made for walking, not long stretches anyway. I needed to orient myself to know where the nearest subway was that wouldn’t have me switching a thousand trains. And did I really want to brave the trains in this getup? Could my budget take a hit with an Uber or a cab? And the biggest question of all was, would Suni be waiting for me at my apartment to retrieve the expensive outfit I wore, including shoes and handbag?

I took out my phone and dialed my bestie, who was likely at the airport by now. Sad thing was, I didn’t have anyone else.

“Lana, what’s going on?” Denise asked by way of greeting.

“Are you on the plane?” I asked, hearing the quaver in my voice.

“I am, but we haven’t left the gate yet. What’s going on?”

“Besides everything,” I said.

“Do you need me to get off the plane?”

“Isn’t that a federal offense?” I asked.

“And? If you need me, I’m here for you.”

“No. You go be with your family.”

Denise came from money and her family decided to take a family vacation, even though all the kids were now adults. Her parents declared they would hand over their cell phones once they arrived at some undisclosed island off the coast of Greece.

“You called. What happened? Who was at your apartment?”

I hadn’t been able to text while the glam team worked because I’d been given a manicure, too.

“Long story. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

At the same time, I heard through the phone the pilot of the plane telling everyone to turn off their electronic devices. From another direction, I heard someone say, “Excuse me, sweetheart,” which seemed to be directed at me.

When I looked up, I locked gazes with a man’s stormy gray eyes not masked by the nerdy glasses he wore.

“Looks like I have to go. Are you sure you’re okay?” Denise said.

I nodded, but realized my mistake and said, “I’m fine. See you in a couple of weeks.”

A zip-like current shot through our connection as the gorgeous man spoke again. Two words and I thought my underwear would combust. “Excuse me.”

I pointed my index finger at my chest and mouthed, “Me?” as if it was impossible for a man with a face like his would talk to me. It wasn’t as if I thought myself ugly, but I wasn’t the girl drooled over. That would be my best friend, Denise. Guys would approach me, but usually to ask if she was unattached.

The nerdy but sexy stranger nodded and gave me a dazzling grin. I stepped closer when my inner warning bells went off. The impossibly handsome man had spoken to me from the passenger side of a white box van. I stopped over six feet away.

We were in New York, and there were passersby on the sidewalk. But this stretch of block wasn’t crowded. “How can I help you?” I asked, not wanting to be rude.

“We’re lost. My phone is dead, and we need directions.” He held up a phone with a screen that was dark. He hadn’t mentioned the driver’s phone, but what was the harm in giving him directions?

“Where are you going?” I asked.

He rattled off an address on Park Avenue. “Delivery. We operate out of New Jersey most of the time, but this woman insisted we come to Manhattan.” He shrugged. “She paid double.”

The fact that he revealed so much tamped down my anxiety, and I stepped forward. I left three feet between us as I rationalized that if the worst happened and he reached for me, there was enough distance between us for me to still get away.

I glanced either direction once again, orienting myself so I could give simple instructions. I pointed, “All you need—”

A shiny, metallic object appeared from where he’d slid up to a stop near the crook of his arm, which so casually rested on the ledge of the window. The barrel was round and unmistakable.

I blinked wide eyes, gob smacked by the turn of events. I opened and closed my mouth a few times as I met a stare that had gone from stormy to frosty in a millisecond.

“Get in and don’t scream. If you do, it will force me not only to shoot you, but anyone who looks in this direction.”