Last Flight to L.A.

chapter one: the seating issue

Finally, Kelsey felt her chest relax. She rested her head back on her seat and exhaled.

A man slowed down in front of her row and began pushing his carry-on into the compartment above.

Kelsey frowned. Her small hope of being able to sit alone was officially dashed.

She quickly turned back to her cookbook, trying to convey the fact that no, she did not want to have a conversation, and she was very happy in her own world, thank you.

Unfortunately, curiosity got the best of her.

She stole a look at the stranger.

He was medium-height, wearing thick-rimmed glasses, and a hoodie like anybody else. He wasn't astoundingly attractive by modern standards, but he just had a look about him.

He was attractive in an odd way.

Then it hit her.

She'd seen him before—not in a Kansas grocery store or garage sale—but at the movie theater.

She sank in her chair and shut her eyes, feeling a wave of uncomfortableness crush her inside.

Ethan Glenn.

She'd seen him in several movies and occasionally when she watched a YouTube clip from a talk show.

Of course she knew him. Who didn't? And why the heck was he sitting in an economy seat next to her?

"Are you reading a cookbook?"

Kelsey jumped and snapped the book closed. "Uh...yes...I am. Was."

He nodded, eyebrows raised, and settled in his seat. He closed his eyes and gave a sigh that was a mix between a groan and an exhale.

Kelsey stared through the cover of her book. He's just a person, she told herself. What's the big deal?

Her brow creased. And he probably just wants to be treated like a person, Kelsey, geez.

Drawing in another breath, she relaxed her shoulders. "Sorry for being so uptight. I'm in the process of moving and I'm kinda stressed, plus I've had about five cups of espresso since six this morning."

Ethan Glenn glanced at her, looking more friendly than Kelsey had assumed movie stars could be, considering she was just a peasant from nowhere.

"Moving where?"

"California. The L.A. part."

Ethan blinked once before offering an amused grin. "Southern California?"

Kelsey nodded. "Right."

"You must have a crazy reason for moving there," he said, giving a laugh that was carefree with a hint of bitterness.

"I do, actually," Kelsey replied quietly, before turning to buckle her seatbelt. The safety procedure began playing on the screen on the seat in front of her. She fiddled through her purse to find a piece of gum as the plane rattled into motion.

"What is it?" Ethan asked.

Kelsey glanced at him. "What's what?"

"The reason you're moving to L.A.?"

It took a moment for Kelsey to remember what he was talking about. "Oh," she laughed, "I got a job, which is kinda crazy. I'm a chef—intern, rather."

"Explains the cookbook," he nodded. "Why California, though? L.A. isn't all it's cracked up to be, trust me. I'm guessing chefs could go anywhere—New York, Paris, Italy..."