The Carrero Contract - Amending Agreements (Book 2 of Contract Trilogy)

21

The flight goes from quiet and dull, to party in the air after take-off. Unclipping belts and gathering in the centre to drink together, just like he told me we would, and the hours pass in a blink. It's easy to slowly relax and put everything out of my head when plied with champagne and listening to insane chatter around me. They are a very animated and entertaining family, and between them, have many stories and jokes that pull you in and keep you amused.

Alexi changes gradually as we leave New York. Relaxed, let's go a little and downs a few drinks with his brother. Side by side in the centre aisle with me perched on his left on the armrest as I sip my third champagne flute. A definite warm head and surreal feel as booze takes hold. I am trying not to get plastered though, aware that my emotions are a bit cagey and I should steer clear of intoxication. I know how that goes when I get drunk.

I watch him unfurl like some weird beautiful orchid and am fascinated with just how much he changes when surrounded by family and no pull towards responsibility or keeping face with people who matter. The further we get from New York; the more Alexi seems to lose that cold hard side to him and just warms up a lot. Getting more youthful with every mile, almost like watching stress and tension he must always carry, ebbing out of him.

He smiles, he makes jokes, and like it or not, he seems to have really good relationships with the men and women in his family. Passing jibes and jests between all here and behaving very gentlemanly towards them when dishing out drinks and chatter. I don't think I have ever seen him really drunk, despite how frequently I see him drink and this is weirdly eye-opening.

I have been quiet for most of the trip so far, taking it all in silently, drinking the atmosphere in with these people, who genuinely seem to get along and like one another's company.

Loud, boisterous Italian people who can drink their own weight in booze without getting obviously plastered and who all poke fun at one another mercilessly.

It's a weird feeling being included, yet not.

I never had a family, never knew this kind of comradery in groups of people held together by blood. There's no malice, no sly or underlying manipulation in this space. No one here to get something out of it beyond enjoyment.

I don't know how to relax and interact the way they do with one another, and even though the affection seems real, I just feel like I'm an outsider who can't relate in any way.

I don't know how to be this way with people and getting drunk and watching them all, just makes me feel really alone.

I'm not here to play a role or impress men and seduce a situation. I'm here to be me and just join in, and I am completely out of my depth with that minor detail. I have never just had to be somewhere for the person I am and invited company, for no reason other than they wanted me here. Not wanted for my body, my looks, or anything pertaining to sex. I'm not an object in this setting.

I have no clue how to be, who to be or how to act. I have no clue what's expected of me. Truth be told, I'm not a nice person and I have nothing to offer people when I have no game to play or act to hide behind; nothing interesting, nothing to be proud of. If they scratch too deep, they will realise I'm worthless trash that just looks good in a designer dress and has no substance or depth—Fake as my nails.

I have no funny stories or tales about friends and family. I have nothing to offer them and it's not like I can tell them about my job either. It's an unwritten rule that the club is a no-go area among people he's related to. They wouldn't understand it ... The ex-hooker running his sex club in Crimes Ville. They would really not like that at all.