Meeting Mr Anderson (The Men Series Book 1)
Meeting Mr Anderson: Chapter 8

The flight home to London is long and boring compared to the trip out to LA. I replace myself standing in the galley when most of the passengers are asleep, staring at the seat Jay sat in just three days before. This time the seat is empty as the flight isn’t full. It’s taunting me, making me feel his absence even more.

“Penny for them?” Matt says as he comes and stands beside me. He pulls me into his side with one arm, resting his chin on my head.

“I’m being stupid, aren’t I?” I sigh. “It was just a wonderful, crazy few days that ended too soon.”

“I’m sorry, babes,” Matt says, kissing my hair. “What did he say when he left?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was it, this has been nice, blah blah? You’re a great girl, but? It was nice meeting you, yada yada?” Matt says, tipping his head to each side as he speaks.

“Oh, he didn’t say anything like that. He wants me to text him to tell him when I’m next in LA,” I say, moving out of Matt’s hug so I can make a cup of peppermint tea. “You want a cup?”

“Hang on.” Matt ignores my question and looks at me with narrowed eyes. “He wants to see you again next time you’re in LA?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “But maybe he was just being polite, you know? It’s the sort of thing you’d say, isn’t it?”

“No!” Matt scoffs. “Here I am thinking you’re moping about with a face like a slapped ass looking at that empty seat because he found a nice way of saying thanks for the mind-blowing sex. Now I’m off back to my mansion never to think of you again, see-ya!”

I look at Matt as I take a gulp of my tea; it’s too hot and I wince. “You don’t think he was just being polite?”

“Holly, did you or did you not have the most incredible sex of your life with this man?”

“I did.” The corners of my lips curl in a tiny smile.

“And did you or did you not get to know him and like what you found out?”

“I did.” My smile grows.

“And did he or did he not ask to see you when you’re next in LA?”

“He did.” I’m properly smiling now, mulling over Matt’s words.

“Well then, case closed,” Matt says, snapping his hands together as though he’s slamming a book shut. “He totally wants to see you and shag your brains out again. What exactly did you do to the boy? I need to know! Maybe some of your lucky charm can rub off on me!”

I look over at Matt’s eager face. He is so into Jay’s manager. “How did you leave things with Stefan?” I ask.

“Oh, Holly, he’s so great. We get on so well and have some great discussions and debates. Deep, intellectual stuff. But even though I fancy the pants off him, I can’t read him at all.” Matt sighs, his head flopping toward his chest. “I’ve no idea whether he likes me in the way you’d like an old lady next door that brings scones around to feed you. Or whether he likes me in the ‘I’m desperate to get into your pants but I’m playing it cool and won’t show it’ way.” Matt leans his back against the galley side dejectedly. “I’ve got another LA at the end of next week, so we’ve said we will meet up. There’s a photography exhibition or something on that he’s going to.”

“Well, there you go,” I say, drinking my tea, which has cooled down now. “He obviously values your company and brain. See where it leads. Maybe he just likes to take things slow.”

“You’re right, Holls. I will just wait and see where it goes. You know, you need to listen to your own advice,” Matt says gently. “If you ask me, Mr. Jay Anderson is rather taken with you. I know Simon was a shit to you and nuked your confidence, but give yourself a chance to see where this goes. Even if it’s just a fun time for a while. We both know you need it.”

“As always, Matt, you are the voice of reason.” I smile at him.

“I know, babes, that’s me. Mr. All-knowing. You may call me Your Highness,” he says as he bows his head.

I curtsy in response and we joke around for the rest of the flight as I call him Your Highness. I make him a crown out of some tinfoil, which he wears in the galley to cook the breakfasts.

Fifteen hours after leaving my hotel room in LA, I finally roll my suitcase in through the front door of the house I share with Rachel in a small town near Heathrow Airport. I am beyond shattered.

“You’re home!” I hear Rachel shout as she runs into the hallway wearing a pair of black leggings and an oversized rugby sweatshirt she stole off a guy she brought home one night. She wraps her arms around me in a hug and her glossy dark-brown bob is like silk against my neck. She is gorgeous and petite, but she makes up for it in feistiness. I’ve seen grown men retreat if she’s angry about something. She looks up at me with her large dark-brown baby doll eyes. “You have exactly fifteen minutes to get showered and get your ass back down here on the sofa with me. I want a full debrief as to what happened in LA.” She heads off toward the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on; get moving!” she yells over her shoulder.

“Alright, alright.” I smile. I texted her the entire trip and even video called her to tell her about what was going on, but she’s my best friend, so I was expecting this. She will want to know every single detail.

I carry my suitcase upstairs. I love our little house. It’s cozy and perfect for the two of us. Just a small kitchen and a living room downstairs, and two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. It’s smaller than some two-bed apartments we could have rented together, but we wanted a garden so we could sit out in the sun and have friends over for barbecues.

I open the door to my room. The walls are a super-pale-gray and I have white ruffled bedding on my velvet upholstered bed. It was a present to myself when I moved in here. The room has built in mirrored wardrobes and some white drawers doubling as a dressing table with photographs on top. My favorite is one of me, Mum, Dad, and Sophie at my wings ceremony when I passed my initial cabin crew training. There’s another one of me and Rachel as teenagers grinning at the camera, arms wrapped around each other the day she got her braces off. We’ve been friends since we were eleven and she lived on the same street. When I started flying, she decided she didn’t want to miss out on all the amazing places I told her about visiting, so she applied and got a job too. Then we found this house to rent together.

“Ten minutes!” I hear Rachel shriek up the stairs. She will come and pull me naked out of the shower if I don’t hurry. I would not put it past her. I quickly shower and put on some sweatpants and a matching cropped hoodie before making my way back downstairs.

“Sit,” commands Rachel as I walk through the door to the living room. She’s made tea and has the good cookies out in preparation to dissect my trip. I flop down next to her on our squishy cream sofa. “I need to know everything!” she says, her eyes trained on me like a hawk. She should be a police interrogator; she’d have them all confessing.

“Argh, where do I start?” I put my hands up against my cheeks. “Okay, so I didn’t make the pre-flight briefing because I was called off standby. I had no clue if we had any high-profile passengers traveling.” Rachel nods in understanding. “So, I get on and Matt’s the flight manager.”

“Love Matt,” Rachel says without breaking my train of thought.

“Yeah, me too,” I say, but Rachel’s spinning her hand in front of her to urge me to keep going.

“Anyway, turns out Jay Anderson is onboard; I wasn’t even sure who he was. Had to google him when we landed.” Rachel looks shocked at my lack of celebrity knowledge.

“I made the stupid bird comment I told you about in my text and he gave us the show tickets. You know all this already.”

“Okay, okay, skip to after the show,” she says, curling her feet up underneath her on the sofa.

“Okay. We go to this amazing bar, with sparkly walls. Like some cool underground cave, you’d love it,” I say, looking at Rachel as I take a bite of cookie. “Then we chat for a while and he’s actually a really nice guy. Then he kisses me.” I pause, remembering how his lips felt that first time against mine. “Then we had a dance, and that’s when I ended up going back to his place.”

“How was the sex?” asks Rachel, her eyes wide.

“Incredible!” I laugh. “Out of this world, mind-blowing, earth-shattering, orgasmic!”

“Oh my God, Holls,” she says, reaching out to grip my arm.

“He dropped me back at the hotel the next morning and asked to take me to dinner that night. We went to this beautiful Thai restaurant in Hollywood and had such a great evening, just chatting, you know?” I smile, thinking back.

“Has he asked when you’re going back to LA next?”

“Yeah, I thought maybe he was just being polite. Matt thinks he’s genuine, but a weird thing happened.”

“What?” asks Rachel, leaning forward.

“I saw him chatting to a model after dinner. It looked like she was flirting with him; she had her arm draped over him and according to the papers they used to date.”

“Bitch, okay, we hate her,” Rachel shoots back. “What did Jay say about it?”

“Nothing, I didn’t ask him,” I confess. “Who am I to ask about other women he talks to?”

“He was there with you, Holly, not her, so that should tell you something. So then what happened?”

I sigh. Maybe she’s right. There may have been nothing to it. “We go back to the hotel and he stays the night. More incredible sex. And then he leaves, and I fly home. Back to the real world.” I lean back on the sofa, blowing out a breath.

“Wow, Holls, just wow. I mean of course he fancies you; you’re a fox,” Rachel says matter-of-factly, gesturing her hand up and down my body as I laugh. “He wants to see you again to give you more toe-curling orgasms, no doubt. I am super jealous!” she says and we both laugh.

“This feels so surreal though, Rach, especially now that I’m back here.”

“Of course it does. You’re back in your sweats having tea with me when for the last three days you’ve been getting serviced by an Adonis!” This is one of the many reasons I love Rachel. We are so different, but that’s what makes us get on so well. She’s a funny, kick-ass chick and so loyal to her loved ones.

“What’s meant to be will be, I guess.” I reach for another cookie.

“You can make it be. Whatever you want, Holls, you can make it happen, I believe in you. You should too.” She takes a sip of her tea. “Besides, this needs to work as I bet he’s got fit friends and I need me some of that,” she says as we erupt into giggles again.

We spend the next hour having a good catch-up. Sometimes we’re lucky and get to fly together, and other times we can be like passing ships on opposite rosters and not see each other for two weeks.

“Do you think you can do me some more photos, please?” Rach asks me.

“Sure, they want more already?” I ask in surprise.

“Can’t get enough of these girls,” Rach sings as she lifts a leg into the air. She goes off to her room and comes back wearing glossy nude tights and her red work heels, the oversized sweatshirt still on her top half. “Okay, so maybe some of my legs crossed sitting in the chair. and then if I bend over and wrap a hand back around my calf, can you get that?”

“Sure.” I snap some photos of her legs and feet using her phone. She comes over to look.

“Oh yeah, cool. They’ll work, thanks.”

“No problem,” I say as I sit back down on the sofa. “So how many are you sending those to?”

“Mmm, five this time,” Rach says as she pulls her leggings back on. “Then the panties are going to Mr. X.”

I grin. “You’re a shrewd businesswoman.”

“I can’t help it if these guys want to give me money for photos just of my feet and legs in uniform.” Rach shrugs, stretching out next to me. “I told Mr. X he has to pay extra this time as the flight time is over ten hours.”

I tip my head back on the sofa and look at the ceiling. “You mean, he’ll not only pay for you to post him your stinky-ass panties you’ve worn on a flight, but he will pay extra if you’ve worn them on a really long one?” If I didn’t already know this from Rachel, I would replace it hard to believe. Basically, guys online send her money for pictures of her legs in uniform. Nothing on show. You can’t even see her face. Then some will even pay to have the tights or panties she’s worn all flight. It’s nuts.

“Yeah, Mr. X can’t get enough so it seems.” Rach smiles.

We call him Mr. X as that’s his online name. Rachel has no idea who he is. He asks her to mail them to a PO Box address. Probably doesn’t want his wife opening the packets over the family breakfast table with the morning mail.

“Some people have some weird turn-ons. Good money opportunity for you though,” I say to Rach.

“Mmm, and lucky for you, Holls, you seem to be Jay Anderson’s turn-on.” She looks at me with one eyebrow raised.

I picture Jay’s intense blue eyes, tousled sandy hair, and muscular, tanned body. I am lucky that someone like Jay Anderson would even notice me. Incredibly lucky.

I wake up to the sound of my phone beeping. I’m on our sofa with a blanket over me. I must have fallen asleep and Rach covered me up. Ugh, I hate how tired I get after a flight home. I reach over to my phone to read my message.

Magic Cock: How was your flight home? J

Huh? That can’t be. I didn’t give him my number, did I? I think back to the hotel room yesterday morning. He put his number in my phone and asked me to text him, but he never took mine; I’m sure of it. Plus, he’s saved himself in my phone as Magic Cock! I burst out laughing as I text back.

Me: Not as exciting as the one out. Your text is a pleasant surprise. H x

I wait for a reply and within minutes it comes.

Magic Cock: I confess, Stefan got your number from Matt. There’s a matter of great importance that has come up I need to discuss with you.

Mental note to self, have words with meddlesome Matt later. What’s Jay talking about? Great importance?

Me: Sounds intriguing.

I drum my fingers on the screen of my phone as I wait to see what he’s going to say.

Magic Cock: I realized it was rather unfair that you have a photo of me, and I don’t have one of you.

I smile. Jay’s talking about the photo he took of us in bed the morning I flew home. I bring it up on my phone to look at. My breath catches as Jay’s blue eyes stare back at me from the screen. He looks edible. Tanned, muscular shoulders against white bed sheets, his sun-kissed hair scruffy from sleep and his white teeth grinning at the camera. You can just about see the side of my face nestled up against his chest, my eyes looking up at his face. We look good together, relaxed and happy. I remember the joke he made about me needing the photo of him to look at when I touch myself. This’ll show you, Jay Anderson, I smirk as I google a picture of a spiky holly bush and text it to him.

Me: Here you are, stud. Hope it helps get the job done.

My lips spread into a smile as I imagine his face when he opens the text.

Magic Cock: Oh, Berry, that was a mistake. I’m going to punish you extra hard next time I see you now.

Winding him up is fun. Who would have thought that me, Holly Havers, would tease a man like Jay Anderson?

Me: That’s if you can even recognize me again, with only the bushy version to remind you.

Ha! See what you can reply to that, Mr. Anderson.

Magic Cock: I could never forget your beautiful face, Holly. It’s forever etched into my memory.

Oh. I did not expect that. I grin ear to ear, holding my phone to my chest like an infatuated schoolgirl. It beeps again in my hands.

Magic Cock: As is the sight of your perfect ass bent over the desk for me.

I laugh at how he’s managed to lighten the tone. That is a pretty hot memory. Okay, if he wants to see me again, then let’s see where this, whatever ‘this’ is, goes. Jay Anderson thinks I’m the one who is full of surprises, but he keeps surprising me. I didn’t know for sure if I would see him again when I left LA, but now I can’t help hoping that there was more to our three days than just sex. My guard is slipping.

Me: I’m flying back to LA in 9 days.

Jay replies almost instantly.

Magic Cock: Can’t come soon enough.

I’m already wishing the next nine days away now. Maybe, just maybe, I can trust Jay Anderson with my heart.