Still So Hot!. Serena Bell

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      Celine opened her mouth once, closed it again, then managed to speak one word. “Brett?” She looked up at him, borderline pleading. Even through the haze of her own anxiety, Elisa’s dating coach radar shot to high alert. Desperate! Take it down a notch! She tried to broadcast this with her gaze, but Celine wasn’t looking at her. “I’m sorry,” Celine whispered to Brett. Actually it was closer to a whimper. “I was going to tell you.”

      Brett shrugged. “Okay. That’s great. I appreciate that. But you’ll pardon me if this is just a little too effed up for me. I’m a tagalong on a dating boot camp weekend. What role did you have in mind for me?” He addressed the question to both women. “Fluffer?” He chuckled.

      Elisa closed her eyes. It was either that or laugh hysterically.

      “Br—”

      The red-haired flight attendant stepped out of first class and glared at them. “You can’t congregate here.”

      Elisa squeezed Celine’s shoulder hard. “Hon, let’s go sit, okay?”

      The flight attendant’s male counterpart—tall, dark and chiseled—appeared behind the redhead and put a hand on her arm. “Everything okay here?” he asked her.

      He’d leaned close to ask it, closer than the situation required. Alert! Chemistry! Were the two flight attendants a couple? Or did he just wish they were?

      “Please return to your seats.”

      The sharp command from the redhead snapped Elisa out of her romantic reverie. “We’ll just—” Elisa began to say, tugging on Celine.

      The passenger behind Elisa touched her sleeve. “Is that Celine Carr?”

      “No.”

      “It is! It’s Celine Carr. Guys, you were right!”

      There was a flurry of activity as the passengers within earshot dug through their carry-ons, pulled out pens and notebooks, and shoved them toward Celine. Cell phones popped up above the seat tops and into the aisle, clicking with artificial shutter noises.

      “Please,” said the redhead. “I can’t have you gathering in the front of the plane. You need to return to your seats.”

      The passenger who’d touched Elisa’s arm turned to the flight attendant. “Can she sign autographs in the back?”

      The female flight attendant cast an uncertain look at her colleague. He shrugged.

      “It’s Celine Carr! From Broken.”

      “What’s that?”

      “You don’t watch Broken?” That was another passenger.

      “Ohmigod, it’s so good!”

      Haven had warned Elisa that this would happen. Celine was a new star, not yet a household name, but she had a show that was rising in the ratings and people would recognize her, wherever she went. “As much of a pain as it is,” Haven had said, “you have to let her do it. They’re her fan base.”

      “If we stay out of the way?” Elisa asked the uniformed woman.

      The flight attendant sighed. “Okay. Until we get the beverage service going, she can sign in the back. But make sure people can get to the restrooms.”

      A small shy smile had crept over Celine’s face as she surveyed the outstretched hands clutching paper and notebooks and business cards.

      “Give me a minute. We need to talk about this weekend,” Elisa told Brett.

      “I don’t see what there is to talk about.”

      “You can’t just—”

      “Folks,” the male flight attendant said in a stern voice.

      “Come here a sec,” Elisa said, starting toward the back of the plane. It wouldn’t help her cause if she got them arrested for creating a disturbance on an airplane.

      The fans followed, crowding into the back of the plane. Some startled bathroomgoers looked at them strangely, but others joined in, digging in pockets or squeezing through the throng to grab pens from their bags. Brett leaned against a galley wall, right behind Celine, frowning.

      Elisa, heart still pounding, waited next to the red-haired flight attendant while Celine happily held court. Her loyal subjects produced napkins or their own arms for her to sign.

      “Can you sign this for my daughter?”

      “Can you write ‘Love to Suze’?”

      “Do you watch Broken?” the flight attendant asked Elisa.

      Elisa nodded. “Do you?”

      “I record it on TiVo.” She was a pretty woman, with a smattering of freckles and a nice smile. “But we’re never home, so we don’t get to watch much TV.”

      We. “You and—?” Elisa gestured to the male flight attendant who was chatting jovially with a passenger just out of their earshot.

      “What? No!” She laughed. “He’s gay. ‘We’ is me and my roommate.”

      “He’s not gay,” said Elisa. “Trust me.” Elisa pulled her business card from her pants pocket and handed it over. “It’s my job to notice these things.”

      “Dating coach?”

      “Yep. You want my suggestion?”

      The flight attendant nodded, eyes eager.

      God, Elisa loved her job. “Ask him if he wants to buy you a drink when you land. You’ll see. He’s not gay.”

      The redhead looked doubtful.

      “My cell number is on the card. Text me and tell me what happens.”

      The flight attendant hesitated. “You sure?”

      “Positive.” Elisa would be willing to bet a thousand dollars they’d be lovers within a week. If the woman took her advice.

      That was a big if. People were shockingly bad at doing what was best for them.

      Like Celine, who had apparently acquired a traveling companion somewhere between yesterday afternoon—when Elisa had helped Celine pack her suitcase—and this morning when she’d boarded a plane for the boot camp weekend. What had she been thinking?

      Papers and pens still shuffled across the galley, voices ringing out with questions for the actress.

      “Is it true they’re going to kill off Jonah?”

      “Celine, will you have dinner with me?”

      A voice rose from among the others. “Celine, who’s the new guy? Hey, new guy—can you move in a little closer to Celine for me?”

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