Bishop (Arizona Vengeance 1)

Flying charter is nice. Big seats and lots of leg room.

But this?

I’d never seen such a thing.

The first section we walk through has a wide aisle straight down the middle that Brooke and I can easily walk through side by side without bumping into each other or passengers. On each side of the aisle there are two rows of seats, looking to be about fifteen deep. The seats are dark charcoal gray with the Vengeance logo—which is the head of a snarling lion done in silver, green, and blue—embroidered on the headrest. Some of the players have already claimed their seats, which are equipped with a dark mahogany retractable table that can flip over your lap. It matches the mahogany wood trim on the seats.

A few of the players have reclined their seats back, and there’s so much room between the rows that they fully extend so you can lie flat as if it were a bed. The leather cushioning looks plush and I bet comfortable as shit. This is a brilliant design, because there are many nights we get done with a game and are flying out at night to make another game the following day. This will allow the players to get much-needed rest.

Brooke and I keep walking down the aisle, which I note is a plush cream-colored carpet with the Vengeance logo woven into it. Bet that cost some serious bank.

The next section of the plane is ridiculous, and I mean that in a very good way. Same gray leather seating, but the chairs are more captain style and swivel. They are set in clusters of four facing each other, two on each side, with a mahogany table in between. By a quick count, I see six tables in this section. There are also two full-size couches that flank the rear galley walls.

“Where do you want to sit?” I ask Brooke as she looks around. “At a table, or do you want to grab a few seats up front?”

“Table,” she replies, still looking around in awe at the sumptuous interior.

We barely get seated before a different flight attendant approaches us. I immediately think that she is exactly Erik’s type. She’s got the blond hair, but it’s not overly bleached looking, rather a soft gold color that is gathered in a loose ponytail at the back of her neck. Even though Brooke’s sitting next to me, there is no way I can’t notice the fact she’s got an amazing set of breasts that barely seem to be contained in her buttoned-up jacket. The white blouse underneath has been left unbuttoned revealing a deep cleavage. I remember that the flight attendant up front had her blouse scandalously unbuttoned as well, and I wonder by whose order did they do that, or did they get together and decide it for themselves.

While I’m getting a quick peek at her breasts, I notice her name tag says Blue.

“Would either of you care for anything to drink before we take off? The plane has been stocked with the players’ favorites.”

Brooke smiles and says, “I’d love a glass of wine.”

“I’ll get you a list,” the flight attendant says.

Brooke laughs. “I’m not picky. Just a Cab. You choose.”

“All right,” the woman returns with an incline of her head. “I know just the perfect bottle to open for you.”

“Thank you, Blue,” Brooke answers, and for some reason it startles me that she called the flight attendant by her name.

It’s not odd by any means, but there are plenty of people who wouldn’t notice. Not everyone would look for a person’s name tag and use their name, giving validation to that person in a friendly manner.

Blue turns to look at me. “And you, sir?”

“Woodford Reserve, on the rocks with a splash of club soda,” I tell her, wanting to test her statement that the plane was stocked with our favorites.

I’m stunned when she gives me a bright smile and nods her head. “Right away.”

When the flight attendant leaves, Brooke turns in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. She chose a simple navy blue sleeveless dress with a thin ivory cardigan. Her tan pumps have a thick strap around her ankles that gives a slight air of sexiness to the outfit, but it’s still professional all the same. I’m a dude, but I recognized the Louis Vuitton logo of her dark brown purse she’d handed over to Blue a moment ago. Brooke had told me earlier while we were just chilling on her back patio after breakfast that her job at the magazine in New York paid only enough to barely keep her head above water, but that she got many of the clothes and accessories left over from editorial shoots.

That definitely explained how she was so fashionably dressed all the time in clothes that I may not be able to tell you what the label says, but I know high end when I see it.