AN: Okay! This is the sequel! Ta-da!!! haha… and lemme tell you, this one might cause some friction between me and some Jaiden/Laila fans… no more there.. but I’m doing this for a reason!!! I swear! Please don’t hate me! anyway, just to clarify, “Clapton’s Little Girl” was set in 2001 (iPods had just come out, so I’m safe.). This one is 6 years later.

Little Miss Phoenix

Chapter One: Laila

I couldn’t get Pomp and Circumstance out of my head as I trudged onto the airplane. My body was still tired from sitting through six Senior Honor Speeches and remarks from various famous people. For some reason, I couldn’t wash away the yucky feeling of sweat from wearing a cap and gown in sweltering June weather, and the thought of spending seemingly endless hours on a cramped plane didn’t make things better. I had graduated at the top of the dean’s list from Harvard University only two days ago, reducing my parents to tears of pride.

Of course, flying first-class made the whole situation a little better. Who could pass up comfy seats that were slightly more spaced than the coach-class seats? Plus, the bathrooms were bigger.

From the corner of my eye, I saw someone sit in the seat next to me after shoving his carry on in the cabin above. The man, for it was a man, was genuinely gorgeous. His hair was so dark that it seemed to surpass black. His eyes were equally dark, striking me as a pure dark chocolate. His cheekbones were high and his jaw brilliantly angular. Mystery man had lips that were formed almost perfectly shaped and his skin was an Italian olive. What was it with God and sticking me in situations with impossibly hot guys?

“I hate planes,” he muttered as his leather jacket squeaked against the leather in the seat. I raised a curious eyebrow at him.

“Why is that?” I asked, my voice taking on the familiar “fakeness” my parents had accused me of using when speaking to someone other than family and friends. It was high pitched and obviously fake.

He looked at me, as though seeing me for the first time. The way his eyes bore into mine sent a slight charge down my spine. “Too cramped,” he replied briefly. I blinked in slight surprise but said nothing more. Instead, I pulled out my phone and promptly turned it off as the plane started moving down the runway.

“I’m Drew.” I looked at him to find that he was still looking at me, his dark eyes almost fathomless. His lips had quirked into a grin that betrayed the arrogance I had sensed emanating from him. He knew that he caught women’s’ eyes.

“Laila.” I extended my hand politely, which he took gently, giving it a slow shake. His grin was even more pronounced at the sound of my name.

“Like the song?” he asked, one of his eyebrows rising in interest. I smiled with faint embarrassment.

“Like the song.”

“You like Clapton?”

“I breathe Clapton.” He chuckled.

“Nice.”

“I like to think so.” His eyes took on a look of mock-question.

“Arrogant, aren’t we?”

“No, just comfortably self-confident.” I had been told by my friends that my wit was the base of my charm. Apparently, they were right. Drew took off his leather jacket and stuffed it beneath his seat, revealing a moderately-ripped body barely concealed by a tight, green tee.

“I like confidence in women,” he remarked, his eyes glancing at me. It had been so long since I had flirted so. A small part of my heart told me not to because there was still hope, but my mind refused to let me fall victim to games of the heart.

“I’m here to please, then.” The minute the words left my mouth, I understood the underlying slutty-ness of them, forcing a bright blush to my cheeks. Drew’s lips quirked again, this time in a motion of pure devilish delight.

“That’s good to hear. Maybe this won’t be too bad a flight.” I fought the urge to scream at myself. “So why are you flying to London?” he asked, taking the topic from joining the Mile-High Club to something a little less scandalous.

“I live there, technically, with my family. I just graduated from Harvard a few days ago, and I’m going home.” I could tell the civility of the topic bored him slightly from the way he stared at the back of the seat in front of him. I pulled out my laptop and, while waiting for it to start, looked at him briefly.

“What about you?” I asked. Drew shrugged.

“From London, I’m flying to Milan. I’m working there this month,” he replied easily. I inclined my head in mild interest. “What do you plan to do?” he asked. “As a career?”

I pointed to the desktop. “I’ve been a published author since I was 17, but I don’t know if I’m going to do that the rest of my life. I might go into music.” Once again, I had caught his attention.

“You sing?” he asked.

“And play piano and violin.” I shrugged. “Music is something I’ve always loved, so I might give it a shot. If nothing else, I’d be content writing for a magazine.”

“Do you write your own music?” he asked.

“Most of it. In high school, I played with one other person. He’s my best friend’s fiancé, and he plays guitar. We wrote some stuff together.”

“I bet you’d be a great vocalist,” Drew commented. I gave him a quizzical look.

“How so?”

“You have a beautiful voice just talking; I imagine it’s even better when you sing.” Again, my cheeks were flooded by blush.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, turning to my laptop to try and hide the fact I was blushing.

“So, what does your boyfriend think about the music thing?” Drew asked mildly. I didn’t look at him; instead, I chose to look out the tiny window next to me. What would he think? I never had the chance to tell him about my idea. What in the world would Jaiden Rochester think of me becoming a singer? Better question, is he still my boyfriend?

“What do you mean?” I asked in response. Drew gave me a calm look topped with a smug grin.

“Please,” he said, “you and I both know you were holding back when we were busily flirting earlier. That means you’re taken.” He took my chin in his hand and turned my face towards him. “And it’s written all over your face.”

His eyes swept over my visage once again. This time, I imagined what he saw. My once jet-black hair, now fading into a dark brown fell into waterfalls of curls over my shoulders. A pair of pensive gray eyes that held hidden worries and hurts. A pair of full lips set in an ivory sea.

“I don’t know where he is,” I murmured, “I don’t even know if we even properly broke up.” He didn’t let go of my chin, which was fine with me.

“How long ago?” he asked.

“A year.” Drew let out a low whistle and smiled wryly.

“Then the answer is simple: you’ve been single a full year without knowing it.” I frowned at him.

“Thanks for the notice Dr. Phil—I already knew that.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Then why didn’t you say so earlier?” I couldn’t read his face worth my life. He was full of mystery and playfulness that threatened to push me over the edge of tolerance. He was like a giant two year old.

I pulled back from him and slumped in my chair sullenly. No one, not even Paris or Liv or Lanie, had made me admit what everyone else knew. I never gave up hope that he would come back; after all, he left without saying good-bye or where he was going.

“Because I want to believe he’ll come back.” Drew snorted.

“You’ll be an old lady by the time that happens.” I glared at him openly then.

“Oh, yeah? And how do you know?” I snapped.

“You have a picture of him?” he asked. I nodded and showed him a picture of Jaiden and me from last Christmas. Drew smirked.

“Just as I thought,” he muttered to himself, “Laila, a guy that looks like that isn’t going to come back after he leaves.” He looked at me evenly. “A guy like that knows he can get whatever girl he wants and isn’t about to settle down with one girl until he’s tried them all.” That wasn’t true. Jaiden and I had talked about marriage! It couldn’t be true.

“A guy like you, you mean,” I grumbled, refusing to believe that Jaiden was anything like this flirting pig. Drew’s hand flew to his chest.

“Oh! I’m hurt, Laila, mortally wounded!” He resumed a calm expression. “Basically.” Never in my life had I known a man who openly admitted to being a womanizer. There was a first time for everything.

I tossed my hair over my shoulder and turned away from him, focusing on the clouds whizzing by the tiny window. Drew didn’t know Jaiden like I did. Jaiden would just leave me because he was bored, there had to have been a reason. I couldn’t give up on him; I love him.

-----

The rest of the flight was a silent affair. Drew apparently took my silence the way I had intended. When the plane finally landed, I was eager to get off the plane and see my family. I almost made it unscathed by Drew when he caught my arm just before we emerged into the gate.

“Hey, I didn’t catch your last name,” he said, his face expressionless. The other passengers exited around us, watching the goings on with a slightly interested eye.

“Why does it matter?” I asked. Drew shrugged.

“Just thought I’d like to be properly introduced, I guess.” There was nothing in his face or eyes that disproved his answer, so my decision was difficult.

“St. James, Laila St. James.” Still, nothing in the form of interest or comprehension showed in his face, making my bristle slightly. But my anger sky-rocketed when he just walked around me without completing the exchange. Catching up to him, I called after him.

“Hey, Drew, what’s yours?” I asked. He stopped and looked at the ceiling before glancing at me with an evil grin.

“Doesn’t matter. See ya around, Laila St. James.” With that said, he walked away into a crowd of people.

If I ever saw that man again, I was going to kill him.