my fucking way. He peers over his shoulder, catches my expression and hustles to get out of my way.

Thank fuck.

“You should be landing in Tampa around six fifteen p.m., eastern time. I emailed the hotel details to you. Please be on your best behavior. My flight leaves in the morning tomorrow, so I’ll meet up with you for dinner and we can get caught up on your itinerary.”

Of all the things that come along with this crazy job, I am glad it includes Alyson. I never realized how amazing it would be to have a personal assistant/agent. When I first started this gig, I thought it would be as easy as pose, click, done. Good looks should have made it simple. Boy, was I wrong.

Dead wrong.

It has taken years, but I have finally mastered the art of angles and lighting. Knowing which way to face in different lighting. How to dip or lift my chin. How to stand so the right muscles pop for the photo. Nothing is ever as easy as it seems. But with great mentors and years of practice, confidence is on my side.

After checking my luggage, I head to the terminal for my flight. I have about twenty minutes before they allow us to begin boarding. So, while I wait, I decide to hit one of the eateries and grab a quick bite and a drink.

The moment the airline calls for us to board, my palms break out in a cold sweat. I finish off the drink and the coolness calms me a fraction as I head for the gate.

Just breathe, dude.

I have flown enough times in the last eight years to be a pro. Have racked up so many airline miles I can’t redeem them quick enough. My job has taken me to some of the most amazing places, within the states and beyond. Not once have I been so nerve-wracked before boarding a plane.

So why now? What is so different about this trip?

The Bay Area is just another sunny oasis with hot chicks and tourists for days. Minus some of the landscape, it’s not all that different from California. I honestly don’t know why people prefer one oasis over the other. Guess it depends on if you prefer elevation or not.

I board the plane and locate my seat, throwing my carry-on in the overhead compartment. Staring out the window, my eyes zoom in on the wing of the plane, when the person I will sit beside for the next six hours bumps my elbow. I roll my eyes and shake my head.

Can people just stop knocking into me today? For the love of…

I turn to see who sits beside me and my breath catches a second. A sexy as sin blonde shifts, trying to wrangle her purse strap over her head, which seems to be caught on her necklace. What a perfect setup.

“May I?” I gesture toward her neck, offering to help separate the two.

“Please,” she huffs, obviously frustrated and embarrassed with the state of what is happening.

Aiding her with the strand and strap, we free her from the entanglement. She tips her head back against the seat, inhales deeply and takes a moment to calm down. After a sigh, she turns in her seat to better face me.

“Thanks for that. As cute as this purse is, I think I’m going to get rid of it. That wasn’t my first rodeo in the tangled department.” She shakes her head and laughs.

“Sure thing. Glad I could help,” I offer. I extend my hand to her. “I’m Gavin.”

“Brandy. Nice to meet you,” she says and shakes my hand. “Business or pleasure?”

“Sorry?” The way the word pleasure rolls off her tongue has me thinking of several ways I can give her exactly that. Blonde isn’t generally my type, but when it’s just for fun, does it really matter?

“Your trip. Is it for business or pleasure?”

Ah, yes. Generic question, generic conversation. I should be used to having meaningless conversations by now. Not like my job requires me to engage in deep, life-changing chats. Would be a nice change, though. Whatever. At least I get to sit next to someone who isn’t painful on the eyes. Could be much worse.

“Business. You?”

“Pleasure. I’m meeting up with my boyfriend and a couple friends in Brandon. I was out here visiting family.”

“Cool.”

Nothing else comes to mind to say after learning she has a boyfriend. Automatic buzzkill. Sure, I could ask how her visit with her family went, but we don’t know each other and it is none of my business. So, I don’t dig.

At the mention of friends, I wonder if I will see anyone besides Micah from my teen years while I am on this trip. It will be nice to hang with Micah and catch up. I haven’t been back to this part of Florida since my mom received a promotion thirteen years ago. A promotion that had us moving out of the Sunshine state and across the country to the Golden state. A move that changed my life in more ways than one.

Maybe that is what has me so on edge. The possibility.

Brandy retrieves her phone and plugs in her earbuds, essentially talk-blocking me for the entire flight. So much for having a cute blonde to distract me. Generic conversation would have been better than nothing at all. This flight will last longer than the actual flight time.

I retrieve my phone from my back pocket, open up my Spotify app and hit play, looping the playlist. Leaning my head back against the seat, I gaze out the window and let my eyes lose focus on the skyline.

Ten days. I will only be there for ten days. A week and a half. It will fly by.

What is the likelihood I will run into anyone? Run into her? Slim. One in a million.

Majority of my time there will be wrapped up in photo shoots and dinners with Alyson and the photographer. There won’t be any time to do anything else. And

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