The Girl in Seat 2a

Funny how one lie can spiral . . .One thing about me: I HATE flying. It's my worst nightmare. That's why I book seat 2A every time I fly. Since my big win, I've been booking seats 2B and 2C as well. They're my comfort seats, they cushion the claustrophobia, and at last I can afford them. I am now determined to live the life of luxury. I deserve it, after all. How to Live Like a Millionaire is the book I'm reading on this flight. When it lands on the floor, a handsome guy hands it back to me. I know he clocks the title, because he's totally charming and talks to me as if I'm one of the Marbella Millionaire set. When I land in sunny Spain, I'll be acting like a millionairess, that's for sure - even if it's stretching the truth, just a bit. We all know that money talks, and I intend to talk my way into a better life. Who knows . . . maybe this guy, the one who had the cheek to sit down in seat 2C, might be someone special. He has an air of danger, but who cares?