Page 4 of Spike (Iron Thunder MC 5)
I looked to my side and saw the clouds out the window; puffy and pillowy. For a minute I imagined myself floating out there, just flying along, taking a turn, and flying away. Somewhere far where nobody knew me.
I blinked, pulling myself back into my reality again. I was in First Class, with a glass of champagne by my side. The strawberries had sunk to the bottom of the glass. There were more strawberries on a dish with cream on the side if I wanted it.
If daddy was here with me, he’d give me ‘the look’ if he saw me coating the strawberries in cream. He was always concerned about my weight. What I ate. How I looked. Way more than I would have been if I wasn’t around him. Way more than it was healthy for a father to be.
And I was no fool. I knew exactly why he cared so much. It had nothing to do with my health or my own benefit, but he wanted all his associates, friends, and rivals to be jealous of him. Jealous of the fact that he had a beautiful daughter who knew how to look after herself.
I pierced two strawberries with a toothpick and dunked them in the ramekin of cream. It smeared my mouth as I chewed and I didn’t even bother wiping it off.
Only a few more hours until I was back in his presence. Which meant that I only had a few more hours of being myself; sitting how I wanted, looking the way I wanted, eating whatever I craved. I drank more of the champagne. It was beginning to make me a little woozy and that made the flight a little bearable.
Sometimes I felt guilty. Daddy was the only family I had, and most other girls would probably be jealous that I had a father like him. The mayor of New York. A man with unmeasurable wealth and power. Technically, I could have whatever I wanted.
But they wouldn’t see I was a prisoner. I had no freedoms. I was a puppet in my father’s hands and had been all my life. I was brought up through childhood to serve his needs and ambitions. No matter where I went or tried to hide; I would never be able to escape his reach.
All I could do now was sit back in my chair and wait. Wait for my next marching orders. I was sure daddy already had a couple of plans up his sleeve for me.
Most other people would have been happy and even relieved to finally go home after so many months away, but all I felt was exhaustion and bitterness. I didn’t know how I was going to face it, so I ordered another champagne instead.When I got up from my seat, I felt shaky on my feet. I caught one of the flight attendant’s eyes, and he jumped in my direction because he could see I was unsteady. Maybe he even knew who I was and had been instructed to keep an eye on me. To make sure I was having an extra comfortable flight.
I looked away, trying to avoid any interaction with anyone. I knew I would have a lot of socializing to do once I got home; so I had to gear up for it now by avoiding all social contact until then.
I made my way to the toilet and slammed the door shut behind me and locked it.
Ridiculously small. No matter how often I flew, it felt like I would never get used to how small these airplane toilets were. I stared at myself in the small mirror on the wall. Everything looked as if it was in place. I even practiced my fake smile. The one daddy would expect for me to have pasted on my face from the moment I landed in New York.
I was used to it by now, being told I had to be charming for everyone. Even the people daddy obviously didn’t like.
I was in a cream-colored dress that I’d bought last weekend in Champs-Élysées. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn it on a flight, I thought now, but at the same time; I didn’t care. Daddy threw all this money at me and usually, I didn’t know what to spend it on. I dabbed at the edges of my mouth. My firetruck red lipstick was completely smudge-free. None of my makeup needed any touching up but I did it anyway, just so I would have something to do.
A part of me just wanted to splash my face with water and remove all of it, but I knew Daddy wouldn’t be pleased if I showed up in New York looking like a regular girl. He expected me to stun everybody. Strangers at airports just as much as his business associates.
