The CEO and Fate✔️

Chapter 8

My eyes opened slowly, but what greeted me was a bleary world.

And the very piercing noise of an alarm clock, annoyed by my ignorance.

My hand searched lazily for the clock, my eyes still in slots, until the noise finally stopped. But that was when the real trouble began.

My flight.

The conference in Chicago. Most likely the biggest thing I'd get to do In this internship, and my flight was in an hour and a half.

I bolted to my feet, but instantly felt the consequences of such an action. The blood came pumping to my head in a violent way, as if it was scolding me for last night.

Last night.

Slowly, as my world sobered, I remembered the night before. Like flashes in my vision, it was all too clear. The club. The friends. The drinks. Jake trying to distract me. Blake trying to distract himself. And me, lashing out for losing him and having absolutely no control.

But more painful than the hangover was the embarrassment of my retaliation. I had no idea what had come over me. I just knew the pain knotted deep in my stomach was tearing me from the inside out as I watched Blake with his conquest. Nothing was rational after that. Yelling was the only thing I could think of to make him stop, and to make the burning jealousy within me stop.

But that was the last thing I could remember.

And it needed to be the last thing on my mind.

The airport was almost half an hour by taxi. When I got there, it was bustling. Security was full, the starbucks line was cutting me off at every turn, and the terminal was about to close when I arrived.

But I slammed my ticket on the desk just in time.

"Alexa Baker," I said breathlessly.

The employee raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me, but she said nothing. She glanced at my ticket, and began to punch things into the computer. "First class?" She said without looking up.

I stared at her. "I guess." I didn't know that that mattered when determining whether they would let me on the plane or not.

She scanned my ticket and handed it back. "Come with me."

Grateful, I did. I grabbed my carry on and followed her through the gate and onto the plane.

When I saw the seats though, I was stunned.

"There has to be another seat," I pleaded. "Please, I'll fly economy if I have to. I can't sit there."

Jake Hill, the handsome, rich man who seemed to be everywhere, closed his laptop. "Come on, Bambi, we don't bite," he smirked.

"It's not you I'm afraid of," I snapped.

Out of hundreds of flights every day that entered and left JFK airport, she had picked the one flight to Chicago that was also carrying Blake Baron and Jake Hill, and her seat happened to be right in between them.

I turned to the hostess. "A middle seat? This is unacceptable for first class," I argued.

She drummed her long nails against the overhead bins. "Sorry, ma'am, but if that's a problem, then I suggest getting here earlier."