Call Me Temptress

Chapter 9

Chicago, Illinois, USA

November 2018

I drummed my fingers on the armrest, impatient for the airplane to rise. The sooner I was off the ground and out of Texas the better.

My bag rested protectively on my lap, the only other bag I had with me was tucked into the overhead compartment. I left everything else. I knew Christie took it as a sign that I might return, but that wouldn't happen. Ever.

I brushed my fingers through my hair and sunk deeper into the seat as the plane started to glide down the runway. Finally, I allowed myself to breathe with actual relief.

"Aw, dammit!" The girl beside me riffled through her purse. "Shit, just my luck." I glanced her way and she caught me staring.

"Sorry," she mumbled before returning to her bag, quietly this time. She sighed with relief as she pulled out a stick of gum and shoved it into her mouth.

She held the pack of gum up to me. "You want one?"

I shook my head.

She grumbled again, leaning back. "Sorry. I'm trying to quit smoking. If I don't have gum on me 24/7, I can't be held accountable for my actions." The gleam in her eye told me she was only half-joking.

I forced a smile.

She lifted her chin. "Hey, I'm Ivette."

"Nina."

"You headed to Chicago?"

"Yeah." Wasn't that obvious? We were on the same flight.

Her leg jiggled non-stop. She chewed loudly. Clearly it would be awhile before this girl was off cigarettes for good.

"You got family waiting there for you or something?" The way she said it – her voice lowering a bit to a whisper, and that puppy dog look in her eyes – it made me wonder if she was just as messed up and alone in this world as I was.

Instead of comforting me, it just stirred my anxiety. "No. I, uh, I guess, you could say that I'm just looking for a change of scenery."

I missed Christie. I missed Pamela. I missed Cami.

If Christie had been there with me, she'd have helped me to calm down. She'd been the one who diagnosed me with anxiety in the first place. Well, unofficially. She was a psych major. The daughter of a social worker and a psychiatrist. She'd tried to get me to see someone. I joked, why pay when she was free? She saw right through the joke. Of course she did.

"Huh," Ivette nodded, agreeing. "I hear you. I know all about that need. I've been moving around a lot lately. Past three years, called five places home. Or tried to, at least. But I like the change. I get bored if I stick around the same place for too long, you know? I'm hoping I'll find something new in Chicago. I hear it's an amazing city. I tried New York, tried LA. Not really my thing. Though I liked the weather. Can't say I'm looking forward to the colder winters again. But I'm kinda limited; I'm a model. Ha, my ma says it'd be best if I gave up on that dream, but not much else out there for me to do."

Her teeth snapped against her gum, making a popping noise.

"God, what does she want me to do? Sit behind a desk all day like she does, taking orders from some guy? Shit, she's outta her mind. She should know better by now that that's not gonna happen."

She stopped suddenly and scanned me up and down. "You a model?" She didn't sound quite happy about the possibility.

"No." Definitely, no. That sounded like my worst nightmare.