Front Man: The Complete Trilogy by Adora Bell Read Free Book Online Page A

grin, she
pulled her sunglasses out of her bag and put them on, checking out
her reflection in a pane of glass. There, now she could be mistaken
for an off-duty celebrity, dodging the paparazzi. Was this what
Jack's life was like all the time, she wondered? No, they probably
travelled by private jet. Hauling her weekend bag over her shoulder,
Sara made her way towards security.
    Leaning back in her enormous, plush seat, Sara
felt like pinching herself. This really was the way to travel. The
first class seats were divided into little cabins, with private
televisions and fully flat beds. The friendly stewardess had provided
a glass of champagne along with a refreshing hot towel, before
pointing out her copy of the extremely extensive food menu. Compared
to her usual cramped seat on a budget airline, this felt like another
world. Sara kept wondering when someone would find her out and escort
her back to economy, and found herself scanning her ticket for the
little note that said 'First.' Her companions in paradise were mostly
fifty something guys in expensive Italian suits, who seemed to take
no pleasure in the experience whatsoever. Thirty minutes into the
flight, most of them were either tapping furiously on their laptops,
or had downed some prescription sedatives with their champagne and
passed out. It occurred to Sara that even luxury could get boring
eventually. There were a couple of interesting passengers though. One
was an elderly lady with a Russian sounding accent, whose makeup had
to be at least an inch thick, and who tottered onto the plane atop
six inch red stilettos. The other, whose cabin was separated from
Sara's by a sliding partition, was a guy in his mid-twenties who
could have stepped out of a Tommy Hilfiger ad. From his piercing blue
eyes to his strong, tan jawline, he was six feet 2 inches of
all-American hunk. The stewardesses were extremely attentive to all
the first class passengers, but they spent extra time hovering by his
cabin, batting their eyelashes as they offered refreshments. 
    Sara settled in with a romantic comedy,
nibbling at a tray of assorted snacks that was perched on the small
side table. Soon the warmth of the cabin and the comfy seat took
their toll, and despite her intentions to savour the experience, she
soon drifted off to sleep. 
    In
her dream, Sara was walking down an endless corridor. The thick
carpet felt soft beneath her bare feet. The walls were lined with
doors, each one numbered, but somehow she sensed that none of these
was the one she was looking for. Sara realized she was dressed only
in her favourite black lace underwear, but she didn't feel cold. As
she passed by another set of doors, they swung open, and she felt a
prickle on the back of her neck, like someone was watching her. But
the door frame was dark and empty. Sara carried on down the hallway,
picking up speed as she felt a growing sense of urgency building in
the pit of her stomach. Eventually she was running, aware only that
she had to reach the end of the corridor, not sure what she was
hurrying towards. The hall seemed to stretch as she sprinted along
it, the end always just out of sight. Then all of a sudden, the door
seemed to rush towards her, and she stopped dead. This door was
larger than the others, painted a deep shade of blood red. It didn't
have a number. Instinctively, Sara raised her hand and knocked. She
heard the sound of shuffling on the other side, as if someone was
hauling themselves up to answer her. Suddenly she was overwhelmed
with anxiety, as if something hideous might be lurking behind the
door, ready to pounce on her. Yet she remained rooted to the spot. It
was too late to go back. The handle turned, and the door swung open
agonizingly slowly. At first, there was only darkness. Then the light
came on behind Jack, who was leaning against the door frame, wearing
only his tight, faded jeans. Wordlessly, she fell into his arms,. His
hands roamed over her skin, as if he wanted to familiarize