The Power Trip

‘Aren’t you that famous model?’

What a dumb question. Either he knows who I am or he doesn’t.

‘Um, yes, I am a model,’ she said grudgingly, glad that she’d worn her blackout shades so that no one could see her eyes.

‘The famous one?’ the man said. ‘I mean if you are, then I have to tell you that my daughter loves you, but er…’ he hesitated for a moment before continuing… ‘unfortunately I can’t seem to recall your name?’

Really? For God’s sake, get a life and leave me alone.

‘Bianca,’ she muttered, regretting that she hadn’t insisted that Aleksandr send his private plane for her.

‘Oh,’ the man said with a note of disappointment. ‘I thought it was Naomi.’

Please God save me from morons and tell this fucker to leave now!

‘Bianca,’ she repeated, unclipping her seat belt, abruptly getting up and heading for the galley, where Teddy, a languid gay cabin attendant, was discussing the size of Beyonce’s thighs with an agitated blonde flight attendant who could think of nothing but her Russian boyfriend — the one with the massive appendage — who was waiting for her in a hotel room in Moscow.

‘You know what?’ Bianca said, with an I am very famous so kindly pay attention scowl. ‘The guy in the seat next to mine is really bothering me. Do you think you can move him somewhere else?’

Teddy had attitude. This passenger was interrupting his discourse on Beyonce’s thighs, and he didn’t care who she was or what she wanted. Then all of a sudden he did care, because the moment she removed her ridiculously large sunglasses, he found himself staring into the feral cat-eyes of Bianca.

‘Oh my!’ he gasped. Why hadn’t anyone alerted him that the super-famous super-model was aboard? He glared at his lovesick co-worker and snapped, ‘What can we do, Heidi?’

Heidi managed to put on a suitably concerned expression. ‘We have a full flight,’ she said apologetically. ‘Would you like me to have a word with the gentleman?’

‘A word is not about to shut him up,’ Bianca said sharply. ‘The man’s a freaking pest.’

‘Oh dear!’ Teddy exclaimed, waving his arms in the air. ‘I can’t stand pests, or APs as I call them.’

Bianca frowned. ‘APs?’ she questioned.

‘Annoying passengers,’ Teddy responded. ‘We get them all the time.’

‘I could ask the lady sitting across the aisle if she’d swap seats with you,’ Heidi suggested. ‘That might solve our dilemma.’

‘And how can you guarantee that I won’t end up sitting next to another moron?’ Bianca demanded.

Heidi lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘The man in the window seat is a well-known English politician recently involved in a big scandal. I doubt if he’ll be interested in making conversation.’

‘Once they know it’s me, they’re all interested in making conversation,’ Bianca said with a weary sigh. Sometimes it was tough being famous and having to deal with the general public. ‘Only I guess anything is better than Mister Chatty,’ she added, putting her sunglasses back on.

‘I’ll go and see what I can do,’ Heidi said, while Teddy envisioned telling his hunky Polish partner all about his encounter with the very famous Bianca. Of course he would embellish, make out that they’d swapped email addresses and would definitely stay in touch.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ he managed, staring at her with envy and admiration. ‘More beautiful than your magazine covers.’

Bianca shrugged. ‘Good genes,’ she murmured, giving him hope that maybe they could become friends, that it wasn’t all simply a wild fantasy.

Heidi returned with the news that the woman in the aisle seat had agreed to move.

Bianca nodded. She was so used to getting her own way that it didn’t surprise her. And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she said, ‘And who exactly is the politician? And what was the scandal?’

Heidi and Teddy exchanged looks. Gossiping about the passengers was a definite rule-breaker, but since they were now both suitably impressed that they were conducting an actual conversation with Bianca, what the hell.

‘He texted pictures of his you know what to seven random women,’ Heidi whispered. ‘Sort of like that American politician last year — the Wiener man. Only what this one did was worse.’

‘Yes,’ said Teddy, happily joining in. ‘The pervert sent his texts from the men’s room in Parliament, and he perma-marked messages on his piece of man meat.’

‘Man meat?’ Bianca said, suppressing a giggle. ‘That’s a new one.’

Teddy lowered his voice even more. ‘Apparently he has a huge penis.’

Bianca squashed an urge to burst out laughing. What was up with these guys who thought that photographing their junk was a fine old idea? Were they the new-age flashers? Or merely horny old hound dogs with nothing better to do?

‘Hmm,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Well, as long as he’s not gonna show me the goods.’

‘I think we can guarantee that he’s learned his lesson,’ Teddy said, wondering if her small but quite perfect boobs were real.

‘Then let’s do it,’ Bianca decided. ‘Except one move from the asshole, and all bets are off.’

A few minutes later she was settled in her new seat. The politician — a thin-faced gentleman — was curled up in his window seat under a blanket, apparently asleep.

Bianca took out her iPod, tuned into Jay-Z and Kanye, leaned back and daydreamed about Aleksandr, the yacht, and her future.

Everything was set, and if all went according to plan, one of these days — in the not too distant future — she could become Mrs Aleksandr Kasianenko.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Frantically packing, throwing clothes into several open suitcases, Ashley didn’t know what to take because she didn’t know where they were going. She wished she did, for surely it made a difference? If it was the French Riviera or Sardinia, then only the fanciest of resort clothes would do. Chanel, Valentino, maybe even Dolce & Gabbana. However, for Greece or Sicily she would pack differently.

‘Take everything,’ Taye assured her. ‘Or take nothin’,’ he added with a ribald chuckle. ‘You’ll look like a right sexy old bird in nothin’.’

‘Old?’ Ashley said, turning on him, nostrils flaring. ‘I’m twenty-nine, for God’s sake. That’s hardly old.’

‘Just f-ing with you, toots,’ he said good-naturedly, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her pack. ‘You’ll be the best-lookin’ girl on the boat. I’d bet me left ball on that.’

‘I wish we knew who was going,’ Ashley grumbled, throwing in a leopard-print bikini with a matching cover-up.

‘I thought you was gonna give Bianca a buzz, find out.’

‘I tried. She’s changed her number.’

‘Text her then,’ Taye suggested.

‘Aren’t you listening, Taye?’ Ashley said irritably. ‘I just told you — she’s changed her number.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Taye answered, wishing his wife would snap out of her never-ending bad mood. It was starting to piss him off.

Ashley held a skimpy white sundress up in front of her and turned to seek her husband’s approval. ‘You like?’ she questioned.

‘Here’s the deal, toots,’ Taye said, stretching. ‘I like anything you like,’