The Mystery of my life

11. London

 “Everything is loaded into the car and ready to go.” I mouthed a thank you to Rina for her timely interruption, there was no way that I could have stayed in that room a minute longer with Agrawal. How dare he take my car away and not tell me? I guess I kind of left myself open for that though, how could I get so drunk and expect nothing to happen to me or my personal belongings? 

“What are you waiting for?  It’s time to go!” Mr. Agrawal’s voice pulled me out of my musings and I realized that he and Rina were making their way out of the house. 

I scanned the room for one last time before quickly following them out to the drive, where two very shiny Mercedes-Benz sat waiting to take us to the airport. 

“You and Mr. Agrawal will ride in separate cars.” Rina said as she steered me through a small crowd of servants and into one of the cars. 

I silently thanked god for my good fortune, lord knows that I would have gone insane if I spent another minute with that bully of a man.  

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We arrived at the huge FAXX international airport an hour later. I watched, mouth wide open, as two story passenger jets landed effortlessly on the dull gray runway of the airport. My tummy knotted together at the thought of having to ride on one of the jets, or any jet for that matter. How was I going to survive being 40,000 feet in the air if I couldn’t even stand being on the 21st floor of a skyscraper? 

A handsome man in a sharply cut tux opened the door of the car for me and steadied me as I teetered my way into the airport in 6 in heels. We were followed in by three airport attendants who pushed three carts full of luggage after us. Mr. Agrawal was nowhere to be seen. 

I stood near the entrance of the door trying to look cool as I scanned the crowd for any sign of Mr. Agrawal. The sharp tux man had left with the car and the airport attendants took our luggage to god knows where leaving me all alone. 

“This way ma’am.” A woman in a form complimenting red-dress gestured to an empty private security check out line, a  direct contrast to the jam-packed regular security lines. I guess that was another perk of being a rich man’s P.A. 

I eyed the woman suspiciously as she guided me through all the security protocols. I knew that she must have been some employee of Mr. Agrawals charged with getting me to our plane safely, but you always had to be careful with strangers these days.

0 minutes and three pat downs later, I was standing in front of a towering black and white jet which I guessed to be a private jet. My knees began to quake as realization of my situation began to sink in. I was going to be suspended in the sky for 4 hours or more with only a sheet of metal protecting me from dying. I fiddled with the locket around my neck as I listed all the plane crashes that had ended in tragedy over the last few years. My anxiety grew as the list got longer and longer. By the time I finished listing every crash I knew of I was ready to turn around and get as far away as possible from that plane.

My plans of escape, however, were cut short when Mr. Agrawal strolled out onto the runway followed by two large burly men in black suits, they each wore darkly tinted sunglasses and ear pieces in their ear. There was no doubt that they were bodyguards. 

Mr. Agrawal stood next to me, hands in pocket, as we waited for the entrance ramp to be attached to the plane, “She’s a beauty isn’t she?” 

I rolled my eyes at his prideful tone of voice, my fear forgotten for a moment, “Yes, she is.” 

“That’s a Cessena Citation X, she’s the fastest civilian aircraft in the world,” His tone dripped with a childish kind of glee and his eyes glimmered with excitement as he spoke of the plane, “You know, it can reach speeds of up to 617 mph.” Hmm, so even the big tough Mr. Agrawal had his personal obsessions. It was kind of cute to watch him get so happy about a plane.