"This flight departs at 12:45 PM and is scheduled to arrive at JFK Airport at 2:30 PM, with a total flight time of approximately 1 hour and 45 minutes."
Jessica's voice was clear and professional, with well-trained rhythm.
She bowed slightly and continued:
"Mr. Miller, we'll be serving a meal later. As a first-class passenger, you have full menu options available in the seat pocket to your right. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to press the call button."
Her eyes swept over the menu Ethan hadn't yet opened, and she added thoughtfully:
"We have a bit of time before takeoff—can I get you some fresh fruit or a drink first?"
Ethan waved it off:
"No fruit needed, just black coffee would be great."
"Of course, just one moment."
Jessica responded and left gracefully.
A short while later, she returned with an elegant porcelain cup, accompanied by a small container of cream and sugar packets.
"Mr. Miller, your coffee."
"Thanks!"
Ethan took it and sipped—the temperature was perfect, the flavor rich.
"You're very welcome, it's my pleasure."
Jessica kept her professional smile and was about to step back:
"I'll let you relax now. During the flight, if you need anything within my service capacity, I'll do my best to assist you."
Ethan set down his cup and looked up at her, his tone still casual:
"What about things outside your service capacity?"
Jessica was slightly caught off guard, then showed that trained professional response mode, naturally tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, smile unwavering:
"Well, that would depend on what specifically you're asking for, Mr. Miller."
Ethan looked completely relaxed and said casually:
"Like, say... exchanging contact info?"
Jessica froze when she heard that.
This request wasn't unfamiliar to her.
In the airline industry—full of attractive people on both sides—getting asked for contact information by passengers was a "minor occupational hazard" flight attendants dealt with regularly.
The training manual was full of tips on how to decline gracefully without being rude.
With her looks and presence, she was especially used to this.
What actually surprised her was the ATTITUDE of the young passenger in front of her.
Way too calm.
Normally, guys who asked for her number were awkward and hesitant.
But this Mr. Miller was so young, dressed simply, yet had this composure way beyond his age.
His tone was as casual, his eyes clear and direct, without the slightest embarrassment, like he was just making an ordinary request.
This confidence—so incompatible with his age and appearance—made Jessica's heart skip unexpectedly, and she subconsciously avoided his gaze, cheeks warming slightly.
Ethan didn't seem to notice her slight fluster and continued:
"I'm starting school in New York soon. Don't really know the area well, and I could use someone who knows the city to show me around. You fly this route all the time, so you must know New York pretty well, right?"
Ethan smiled:
"I'll buy you dinner, you show me around and help me get familiar with the city. How about it? Just making friends."
"I..."
Jessica bit her lower lip lightly, internal conflict visible.
Among adults, the subtext of "showing someone around" was pretty clearly understood.
Logic told her she should refuse immediately—it was professional ethics and self-protection.
However.
Her eyes caught on Ethan's handsome face and that peculiar calm confidence, and the words of refusal got stuck in her throat.
When asked for her number by sleazy middle-aged businessmen or obviously wealthy trust fund kids with expensive brands but sketchy vibes, she only felt annoyed and wary.
But being asked for contact info by someone this young, clean-cut, uniquely composed, first-class and genuinely polite... deep down, there was inevitably a trace of feminine vanity and pleasure.
He'd just said he was starting school in New York—so maybe he JUST turned eighteen? And his family background was clearly exceptional.
This kind of passenger carried an undeniable attraction.
Her crew friends' chatter echoed in her mind: "We're in a youth industry," "Small dating pool," "When you meet someone interesting, be bold and don't hesitate—opportunities don't come twice."
Just when she was internally torn, fingers unconsciously twisting the corner of her uniform, Ethan suddenly dropped his smile and spoke in a flat tone:
"If it's not convenient, no worries."
Like everything he'd just said was casual and he didn't actually care.
This sudden "retreat" caught Jessica completely off guard, and an inexplicable impulse surged up.
She quickly glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention to this corner, took a deep breath, rapidly pulled out a notepad and pen from her uniform pocket, scribbled down a string of numbers, then tore it off cleanly and handed it to Ethan.
"This is my personal number."
Her voice was barely audible, cheeks flushed, not daring to meet Ethan's eyes anymore:
"I... I have a three-day layover in New York this time."
Before she finished, she turned and left almost like she was fleeing, steps a bit hurried.
Ethan looked at the note in his hand carrying a faint perfume scent, eleven neat digits written in elegant handwriting.
The corners of his mouth curved into an amused arc. He carefully folded the note and slipped it into his pocket.
This little episode added an interesting touch to the short flight.
....
The hour-plus flight flew by.
As the plane landed smoothly on the JFK runway, Ethan gathered his things and headed toward the exit.
At the door, flight attendants lined up neatly, sweet smiles in place, saying in unison:
"Thank you for flying with us, have a wonderful day, and we look forward to seeing you again!"
Jessica was in the lineup.
She struggled to maintain that standard professional smile, but her eyes subconsciously tracked Ethan's figure.
When Ethan walked up to her, her smile seemed to freeze for a moment, and her ears quickly turned red, but she still forced herself to nod slightly in greeting.
Ethan just smiled back at her—a clear, slightly knowing smile—didn't say anything more, and strode past down the jetway.
Watching Ethan's disappearing figure, Jessica also released a breath she'd been holding.
Thinking back to Ethan's tall, handsome appearance, young but radiating that calm confidence, she felt some anticipation stirring.
....
Airport arrivals hall exit.
Diana's figure stood out noticeably in the crowd.
She was wearing an impeccably tailored cream-colored suit, elegant posture, anxiously scanning the flood of arriving passengers.
When she spotted Ethan's figure, her eyes lit up and she quickly walked over to meet him.
"Honey! You made it through fast!"
Diana naturally linked her arm through Ethan's, tone carrying intimacy and a trace of barely detectable affection.
Diana asked:
"So, hotel first or...?"
Ethan nodded:
"Hotel first, yeah."
"Perfect!"
Once in the car, Diana inquired:
"Honey, what's so urgent you had to fly over immediately?"
Ethan said seriously:
"Going to acquire a really important tech company!"
Diana said with surprise:
"Acquire a company?"
Ethan pulled out his phone from his pocket, pulled up the information and handed it to Diana:
"This is the specific data on the company. Already negotiated with their founder—package deal for $500K."
Diana looked at the metrics, her brow gradually furrowing, her professional instincts quickly catching the problems:
"Honey, this data... user engagement is continuously declining, market share is basically negligible, and revenue is even more dismal. On the surface, the outlook isn't great."
She continued:
"Unless their product has some very unique core advantages and potential we're not seeing, there's almost no chance of winning against Twitter in direct competition. $500K isn't a huge price for a startup like this, but the risk is pretty substantial."
She'd keenly spotted the issues.
There are 70 advance chapters ahead in my Patreon. If you are interested can check it out.
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