The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

“Hello,” everyone calls.

“Emily, this is Melina,” Tristan introduces me.

“Hello.” I shake her hand.

“Hello.” She smiles as she takes a seat beside me and looks around the table. “I just couldn’t decide what to wear tonight. How is everyone?”

The table instantly falls into chatter.

She’s confident and beautiful, and she looks like a high-fashion model rather than a . . . what does she do again?

I glance over to see Jameson and his father subtly roll their eyes at each other. Hmm, what’s that about?

Tristan begins to talk to a man at the table next to us and laughs out loud. He really is very friendly.

Melina takes out her phone and pulls a duck mouth and takes a selfie. She leans toward me. “Get in,” she says. “I’ll tag you.”

I pull out of her grip and lean away. “No thank you.” I smile. “I don’t do social media.”

“What?” she gasps as she looks me up and down in disgust. “Why on earth not? What’s wrong with you?”

Okay . . . this woman’s a rude pig.

“I don’t like social media, that’s all.” I shrug.

“What’s not to like?” She keeps taking her own photo.

I stare at her deadpan. “A misrepresentation of society with unrealistic images that portray a fake lifestyle with impossible ideals,” I reply as I sip my wine. Don’t piss me off, bitch.

Jameson smirks as he stares straight ahead. His finger circles on my bare shoulder.

“Oh God.” She rolls her eyes and takes another selfie.

I glance over, and Jameson’s mother smirks and winks at me.

I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. God, cut out the snarky bitch act, Emily, I remind myself. Just be nice for once.

Jameson and his father fall into conversation, and I sit quietly. The waiter comes over and goes to refill my glass. “No thank you.” I smile.

Melina talks to the other people at the table; she’s laughing loudly and loves attention. She’s not at all the type of woman I thought Tristan would go for.

“Emily, you must come and visit us in the Hamptons,” Jameson’s mother says.

“Thank you.” I smile. “That would be lovely.” I should try to make conversation. “Do you go on weekends?” I ask.

“We live there mostly now,” she says. “We still have our apartments here, of course, but the change of pace is lovely.”

“Oh.” I smile. How many apartments do they have here? Jeez, they really are from a different world. “Sounds great.”

“Jameson said you are from California?” she asks.

“Yes.” I fake a smile. He told them about me? “I’ve only been here a month.”

“And what do you think of New York?”

“I love it.” I smile. “It’s amazing.”

Jameson’s hand sits on my shoulder for moral support while he talks to his father.