Alaskan Airways || Charlieve
Six months ago, if you asked #SuperVIP Miss Gen Tate what she’d be doing for the holidays, she’d be lying out of her ass, maybe telling you that she was going off to Hawaii to catch a tan before everyone else even started thinking about Spring Break. (Gen was thinking Cancun again this year. She was totally still hot enough to to catch a couple college boys. #amirite?) Or maybe that she’d be off to Vegas to party it up with all the high rollers and celebrities, drinking Ciroc and blowing all her money at the card tables.
Of course, in reality, Christmas meant one thing only: Alaska. Home sweet home, where Gen would be forced into a whole week of “quality family time” with the Tates and Bishops, pretending like they weren’t looking at her with sad, dopey eyes as if they were just waiting for the next trainwreck she’d get herself into. Even after the Christmas scene of two years ago when Gen revealed that she finally wasn’t an assistant anymore and had actually become a buyer for her magazine. All she’d gotten was a ‘that’s nice, dear’ and a change of conversation.
But not this year, goddamnit.
Gen had cooked herself up a plan, involving finding a man of good breeding and stature (and hopefully a smokin’ hottie) who would be willing to show up and pretend to be her fiance for the week. That’d show her family. Her cousins weren’t the only ones who could be disgustingly sweet and successful. Gen was a major baller with thousands of people hanging off her every tweet and instagram and snapchat. Couldn’t her family see how valuable it was to have that much power?
And, alright, maybe the only guy she’d gotten to agree to come with her was the lame-o marketing dude Charlie Lang that she’d been working with since her first day at Icon. He was totally the biggest stick in the mud she’d ever met. After all, his idea of a fun night was a salad and a documentary (#kmn srsly?!). While she would have preferred someone like Jacob from accounts who partied it up every weekend, Charlie was someone her family would like and respect. (And, alright, maybe he was a lil bit of a hottie in his own sort of buttoned-up professor sort of way.) So what if she had to agree to slip on her assistant hat again for a few weeks in order to get him to come?
It would be worth it to finally get an ounce of respect from her family.
But, ofc, the moment they stepped on the plane, instead of using the ten valuable hours of flight time from NYC to Anchorage to prepare, Charlie was going to take a nap? WTF, bro? #howdareu.
Gen stared at Charlie for a moment or two, awkwardly clearing her throat. When that did nothing she coughed a bit louder, leaning towards him, still staring intently. She’d seen his eye open a little bit, he couldn’t hide like that from her! Gen had been using the ‘I’m totes asleep rn’ trick for years.
It took a good five minutes of intent staring for Charlie to give in.
"Thank god, my eyes were starting to water from all that staring. Think I was even twitching a little. Totes not bae material. I can’t believe you!" She sighed, tossing her red hair over her shoulder and brushing some invisible lint off her Saint Laurent jacket. (Had to be looking fresh to death in case she spotted a fly as hell lil cutie on the plane. Gen had yet to become a part of the mile-high club, and one always had to be prepared.)
"And ‘what’ I was staring at u about was the fact that u don’t seem to understand how #critical this time is for us. Ur gonna get the third-degree from my family the moment we step in the door. So you better be prepared or we’re both gonna be at least three skull emojis, if not more. Maybe even the ghost with it’s tongue out." Gen continued, raising an eyebrow at Charlie before reaching into the ginormous purse that had taken the NSA about ten minutes straight to look through during one of their random searches with how much stuff she had crammed into it, and pulled out a thick notebook.
"So I hope you didn’t plan on much sleeping on this plane ride, my dearest, darlingest fiance of mine, because we’ve got ass-loads of work to do or else we’re both sunk."
For a moment Charlie contempted closing his eyes again. He had agreed to this little vacation from reality only because he needed an assistant. If only assistants could be purchased from catelogs, Charlie wouldn't be here right now.
But, unfortunately, he was here and it seemed Genevieve planned to spend the entire ten hours talking. He sighed audibly and sat upright hoping maybe he could talk her out of it. Maybe he could get his rest after all. For once they reached Alaska, he reasoned, sleep would most likely be a high commodity.
"Yes, Genevieve," he said as he put his hands together, the pads of his fingers resting against one another as his nose rested on his hands. "I did intend to sleep. I would rather work but I figured that one would upset you. What I didn't know is sleep would upset you more."
He sighed again, pausing as he attempted to process what she'd just said. Eventually he gave up as he turned to look at her. "I'm not even going to pretend I understood anything you have just said. There is more to life than emojis. Incidentally, they are also not a language, nor should they be used in place of proper English."
"In short, what is it you want from me, right now? What type of work could we possibly have to do on this plane besides the obvious Spring Fashion campaign I would love to get started on as we travel?"
He raised an eyebrow as though daring her to give him at least one item that was more important than everything on his to-do list. He doubted she had anything so important. After all, how difficult could this weekend be?
Charlie charmed clients all the time. Most were so impressed with him, they practically bowed at his feet, as if he were a Roman Emperor. He'd prefer they didn't but some couldn't be stopped. If he could charm them, why should Genevieve's family be any different? He didn't see a reason. Thus, he should be sleeping right now. How could she not see this?
