Hello everyone,
First of all I really have to apologize for how long it's taken to post chapter 2. It's always my intention to write as fast as possible because I hate keeping my readers waiting. Unfortunately I didn't count on just plain old stuff happening. First I needed to get a little distance from the story and write something else. Then a bunch of "life" happened (some of which I'll include in the other stories I'm working on). THEN I just had a major block with this story... I had no inspiration to write whatsoever. I kept second guessing myself and kept changing things around. But I'm glad to say I'm back. I hope you enjoy this chapter... it's is mainly an intro to a new character. So hang tight the story will unfold and come together in the next couple chapters. Thanks to honeybree for her great editing. Thank you for taking the time to read and don't forget to comment and vote. ;) -- p2p
Layla Coldwell was having a mild panic attack.
As a wedding planner, her job was to remain calm, collected and methodical. While her clients and their families fell apart with the stress of a wedding, she was there to pick the pieces up and execute the job flawlessly. The ever skilled professional, her clients only had great things to say about her. Although behind her back she was dubbed "the Enforcer."
At the moment she was breathing deeply and willing her panic attack away. She hadn't had one in over a year. This was a high profile client and she couldn't afford to screw it up.
Jason Bane found her through a reference and called to tell her about his upcoming nuptials. She jumped at the opportunity. This would be great for her newly launched event planning business. She thought he would say their wedding date was at least 6 months from now.
She nearly coughed up her tongue when he said the wedding was in one month. It did help that there was no limit to the budget but honestly it would take an act of God to pull this off. But her panic attack symptoms came when she found out she would have to fly out for the wedding.
She did not fly. There was no way she could do it. There was no way she would do it.
But then again... this was Jason Bane's wedding.
This was the type of client she needed for her portfolio. Any wedding planner would kill for this account. The needs of her business overrode her insignificant fears. She would just have to suck it up and deal with it.
When the man finished talking, it took her a total of ten seconds to respond despite her insides being twisted into knots. Still, like a cow walking to its slaughter, Layla accepted and booked the first plane out.
Immediately Layla went into planning mode. She needed to have some ideas already in mind before she arrived. She thumbed through her digital albums to see some of her latest wedding events.
God, she hoped his fiancée wasn't a snobby bitch. Unfortunately, it was almost always the case with high profile clients. Gold-digging whores burrowed themselves into these handsome men's bed and bank accounts.
The last bride Rebecca Whitmore was a piece of work. She'd throw tantrums like two-year old without a toy at playtime. How could someone hate everything and love everything at the same time? In the end, Layla's blood, sweat and OCD made the wedding a vision of perfection.
However, Ms. Rebecca Whit-Whore never saw it. She drained their sizable joint bank account and ran off with the pool boy the night before the wedding.
After it was all said and done, Layla felt mostly bad for the groom. He was so clueless; still trying to get her back. It was depressing really.
So Layla was fortunate the Bane account came through when it did, since it was a chance for her company to move on from that scandalous wedding. Hopefully the Bane wedding will be a straight-forward subdued event...
At the JFK airport counter, Layla nervously re-organized her boarding documents.
Tucked away in a labeled folder, all the documents faced the same direction in alpha-numeric order. She created a manual with emergency numbers, U.S. embassy locations, travel checks, contingency plans and a multi-language dictionary.
Her packed luggage was even more painstakingly detailed. On the left side, her clothing was perfectly color coordinated, ironed and compartmentalized in labeled waterproof pouches. Her large planning binders were tucked on the right hand side. She had everything in digital form as well but she found some people preferred the feel of a real book and photos. So she was prepared for whatever personality she'd encounter.
She nibbled on her perfectly manicured nails and fretted about the trip. She wanted to kick herself at the flight she chose. She thought she could manage her little fear of flying problem by getting there slowly, with several layovers. But that was just delaying the inevitable.
Her flight trajectory went from New York City to Heathrow airport in London and then towards Athens; where she would take a ferry to the island of Santorini towards the Bane estate.
As Layla waited to board the Boeing 747 she took a couple of heavy sedatives. This would help her catch up on some much needed sleep and would ease her nerves. She needed to be completely alert and on point for this event.
The airplane cabin was completely full and felt stuffy even though it was really quite spacious. Layla made sure her carry-on luggage was securely stowed away in the overhead compartment. She felt there needed to be at least 6 inches of space between the surrounding luggages.
Before sitting, she sanitized her seat's arm rest and asked the flight attendant for 3 blankets and 2 pillows. Her decisive tone brokered no argument as to how quickly she expected it in return.
When the flight attendant returned, she was surprised to see one of the blankets was to be used to cover the seat's headrest.
"Germs spread with little encouragement." Layla coldly answered the un-asked question.
The attendant pursed her lips, gave her a sarcastic slight nod and walked away.
Finally, Layla graciously sat down over the freshly laid blanket and the other blanket she modestly placed over her legs.
She sat very still; her shoulders and neck were perfectly aligned.
Some of the surrounding seated people stared at her with interest. She definitely seemed out of place. Her upturned nose and etiquette was uncomfortably proper for the setting.
It felt as if the royal family sent a representative to take note of the sloppy ones.
Layla turned her body to the left and then to the right.
Her long shapely legs were crammed into the space. She adjusted her navy blue pencil skirt while she sincerely tried to make herself comfortable. The crisp white button down shirt held a sharp contrast with her cinnamon colored skin. Just hint of modest cleavage graced her top and a long ultra-thin gold chain with a small pendant laid snuggly between her full breasts. Her shiny long black hair glimmered in the overhead cabin light.
She felt her eyes drift as the attendants made the usual safety announcements. She hadn't been sleeping because honestly she never really slept well. She chalked it up to stress from starting her own business. But in actuality Layla was a worrier. A tightly wound, human organizer... had been since puberty.
Situations never got out of her control and she thrived in achieving the impossible. Hence her appeal as a wedding planner.
Sitting in her assigned window seat, Layla wondered when those delightful pills would kick in completely. She wanted to be out cold by lift off. It's so frustrating when your body is slowly shutting down from exhaustion and yet your brain doesn't want to cooperate.
Every time blissful sleep almost took her, she was awoken by the sounds around her.
A couple seats up, some older ladies talked in loud voices. The pilot announced something about speed and altitude. A flight attendant accommodated an obnoxious passenger. Whatever it was, there was always something depriving Layla of her sleep.
At the moment there was a crying baby sitting right behind her. It was amazing how powerful that infant's lungs were... the piercing sound rang directly behind Layla's ear.
It was like a gut-wrenching concert accompanied by the melody of the mother's soothing voice.
