She is one of God's women, fashioned by His own hand to show us men and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter, and that its light can be here on earth.

Dracula, Bram Stoker

Chapter 2 - Transcontinental

I should have known was no way Rose would let me go with a simple coach ticket from Chicago to London. She had offered twice, and each time I turned her down.

But lo and behold, when I arrived at the United ticket counter on Monday morning, I was informed that Ms. Hale had arranged for an upgrade. Business class to London.

I shouldn't be surprised. Rose didn't know how to take no for an answer. I could hear her justification now. She had the sky miles, why not use them?

Maybe that was why we were such good friends. The upgrade was a great example.

She couldn't say no.

I wouldn't say yes.

We were perfect for each other.

My baggage was safely ensconced in the bottom of the plane as I settled into the large leather seat. I had never flown anything other than coach, and I felt a bit out of my league. I was in jeans and a sweater. Everyone around me had on expensive suits.

There were no women.

"Excuse me; I believe the seat next to you is mine."

I looked up to see a linebacker. The man had to play for the Bears. He was mammoth. I scrambled out of my seat to make room for him to scoot in. Dark wavy brown, almost black hair and piercing blue eyes. My eyes trailed further down. Snug polo shirt and faded jeans. Wow.

I'd owe Rose a thank you. This might not be so bad after all.

I had to laugh at myself. Single for a month, and I come out of my shell. Eyeing up strange guys on airplanes. What a difference a break up makes. Another six months, and I might even have the courage to flirt with him.

"Thanks. They make all this space for you in the seat, but getting in and out of the row is a bitch." He stuffed his bag under the seat, and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

I nodded politely, and went back to my tattered copy of Dracula. I had it almost memorized, but I loved the story so much. To me, it was a relaxing read. It would also distract me from the gorgeous guy sitting next to me.

"Dracula, huh? Kind of antiquated reading."

I looked up to see the linebacker studying the book cover.

"Have you read it?"

He smiled. Wow. Those weren't dimples, those were craters. And they took him from gorgeous to adorable. He was definitely dangerous.

"I loved that book in high school. A bit wordy, but once you got past it, one hell of a story."

I laughed. It was true. "I read a literary criticism once that said 'he could have cut 100 pages of prose and not impacted the story at all.'"

"Yeah, and probably killed all cliffs notes sales." He held out his hand. "I'm Emmett. Emmett McCarty."

I returned his infectious smile and shook his hand.

"Bella Swan."

"So tell me, Bella Swan. What sends you to London? Work or fun?"

I held the book up.

"A little bit of both, I guess."

Emmett looked confused. "Dracula sends you to London? What, are you transporting sacred dirt or something?"

I smiled. He was more polite than most when I broached the topic.

"I am working for my doctorate in English literature. My dissertation is on Dracula. It's kind of hard to do it if you've never been to the major locations in the story. Fortunately, my roommate is on a six month assignment in England, and I got to ride along. Or I guess I should say, sponge off her."

The killer smile was back. Oh yeah. This guy was dangerous with a capital D.

"So what about you? Why are you headed to London?" I asked, trying to get my mind out of the gutter. No way would a guy like this ever be interested in me.

"Same as your roommate. Headed over on a temporary assignment for work."

The flight attendant came by, offering us both glasses of water. He waved her off.

"I'm a civil engineer with a large firm out of Memphis. I haven't traveled much, and don't have anything tying me to Memphis, so I figured what the heck."

No ties to Memphis. Was that code for he was single?

I quickly glanced down at his left hand. No wedding band. No indentation like he had worn a ring for a long time either.

And I was going to spend eight hours sitting right next to him. Yay me.

Once we were in the air, we both slipped into our individual diversions. Emmett pulled out a laptop and a pair of black framed glasses, and focused on what looked to be technical specifications and memos.

I would periodically sneak a peek at him out of the corner of my eye. He would twirl his pen, and then drop it on his tray to type something on the keyboard. Once done typing, he would retrieve the pen for more twirling. The motion was almost hypnotizing, and I wanted to ask him where he learned to do that. But that would require me to admit that I was staring. My self confidence wasn't that high yet.

I gave up on my book and dropped down the tray table to spread out my notes and a few articles I had copied. It included the character list I had created, complete with screen shots of the characters from the Francis Ford Coppola movie. The acting might not have been the greatest, but the character images all fit my mental so well, I used them as visual keys to sort notes.

"I can't believe they cast Ted as Jonathan Harker. All I could think when I watched the movie was 'bogus'!" Emmett laughed as he looked over at my papers. He did a pretty good stoner impression, although I wasn't sure if it was Ted or Spicoli he was channeling.

"Yeah, he was bad. Somehow I don't think he was cast for his acting ability."

"Ah, that's right. Chick's dig him."

I laughed. "Not all chicks. He's not my type at all. Does nothing for me."

Emmett shifted so he could look directly at me.

"Then tell me, Bella Swan, what is your type?"

I could feel the blush creeping in. Was he flirting with me? Maybe he was just being nice.

I took a deep breath and focused on the papers on my tray. "I don't know if I can pin it down to a type. If I had to call out a few key things, I guess I'd say smile, shoulders, and wicked sense of humor. My friend Rose teases me that they have to be built like quarterbacks for me to be interested."

It was how she had described Mike. Well, before she got to know him that is.

"Hmm. Sounds like I fit that description perfectly."

Yes, he was flirting. My cheeks got a little redder. This guy was gorgeous, and he was flirting with me? He was so totally out of my league.

"So tell me, why a dissertation on Dracula? Seems like an odd choice."

It wasn't a new question. I was comfortable with the safer ground. Dracula had helped pave the way for a whole literary genre, yet didn't get the credit it deserved as a great literary work. Forget the movies, look at the book alone, and it was brilliant in its approach.

"I think that Dracula is a grossly misrepresented book. The whole thing was classified as horror, but it's really anything but. I am trying to make my case that it's really a cautionary tale about choices and sexuality, and illustrate how it totally changed the paradigm of gothic literature."

It was easy for me to talk endlessly about the book, about the characters. I had spent years dissecting it, making my case. I snuck a peek up at Emmett. He appeared interested, engaged. So I decided to continue.

"Do you remember much about the book?"

"Enough. Why?"

"So you have the two primary female characters; Mina and Lucy. They are set up as contrasts on all fronts; social stature, looks, temperament, views on sexuality. Yet at root, they are both caught up in a bizarre sort of triangle. Well, actually in Lucy's case it's more like a quadrangle. There is the safe way and the risky way. There are benefits to both. The choices that they make are as much tied to the personalities as to the time. Sexuality was a way of representing that risk/reward orientation."

I paused long enough to accept a glass of wine from the flight attendant. This business class gig didn't stink.

"Then you have the weird sisters; the three vampires that attack Jonathan at castle Dracula. They were a total contrast to Mina and Lucy. They are representations of consequences, of being overwhelmed by blatant sexuality. It's the impact of an incorrect decision."

"The weird sisters. Those were the half naked chicks in the movie that feasted on Ted, right? And Lucy was the hot red head?"

I laughed at him. Most guys lasered in on 'the hot chicks.'

"Yes. I tease my friend Rose that she and I are modern day equivalents of Mina and Lucy. She's outgoing, courageous, and flirtatious. I am more buttoned up, reserved, and practical. Of course, when I say that, she immediately wants to know where her Lord, Texan and Doctor are."

Emmett laughed. "She sounds like she's a pistol."

"If you only knew."

We continued to talk throughout the flight. Emmett told me about his job, his interests, and funny stories about his travels. He really was an entertaining guy.

"Okay, so I am curious. If you are Mina, and your roommate is Lucy, then who would I be?"

I didn't hesitate. "Quincey Morris. Without a doubt."

He looked at me with a confused expression. "The Lord?"

"No, the Texan!"

"That's not very original, Bella Swan. I know I have a southern accent, but I'm from West Virginia, not Texas."

I rolled my eyes in mock exasperation. "It's your personality. Quincey was larger than life. Boisterous, outgoing. He's kind of the stereotypical American male in the day. Plus, you seem like the type of guy who would totally dig a bowie knife."

Emmett roared in laughter. A man seated across the aisle shot us a dubious glance before returning to his Wall Street Journal.

"You figured all that out, and we aren't halfway to London yet, Bella Swan."

"Yes I have. And why do you keep calling me by my full name?"

Emmett smiled at me. "Why not?"

He was like a very large child. He laughed, teased, told silly jokes. The more I spoke to him, the more I enjoyed his company. His looks seemed less daunting. Still very inviting, in exactly the way it sounds, but not as intimidating.

We bantered off and on for the rest of the flight. We made fun of the atrocious movie and laughed at the stuffy patrons in business class.

At one point I glanced to my left. His arm rested on the console between us. The muscles in his forearm were easily visible, even though he was relaxed. Rose would be dying. She has a thing for guys' arms. She liked to watch baseball on TV just to 'enjoy the goods' as she liked to joke.

As the pilot announced our impending arrival into Heathrow, Emmett turned the conversation back around to what I would be doing in London. Specifically, where I would be living.

"The flat is in Waterloo, which works out perfectly for me. I can stay rent free and be in walking distance to Kings College. What I need to get to I can use the underground or cabs for."

"No kidding! I'm in corporate housing in Waterloo too. Who did you say your friend worked for again?"

"I don't believe I did. She's working on some project for the British government. I don't know what it's called."

He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but then checked himself.

"Maybe we could get together some time, well, that is assuming that your schedule permits?"

Was he asking me out? No way. Maybe he was just looking for people to connect with while in London. We exchanged cell phone numbers, and I told him that the first time we went out that I would give him a call.

We parted ways at the baggage claim. He waved over his shoulder as he followed his driver out the door.

"Bella!" I could hear Rose before I could see her. The crowds parted, some in response to her elbowing her way through, others in awe. Rose knew how to clear a path, that's for sure.

I picked my back pack up to throw over my shoulder. The front pocket must not have been zipped. Pens, my thumb drive, and other odds and ends went scattering all over the floor.

"Shit!" I dropped to my knees, scrambling to pick everything up. Rose knelt down to help.

"Excuse me, would this perchance be yours?" I looked up to see a tall, thin blonde man with aquiline features holding up my thumb drive. He wasn't looking at me.

Rose gave him one of her shock and awe smiles. "Yes, thank you."

She stood, brushing off the knees of her blue jeans. The man was still riveted on her.

"You're American, yes? Here on holiday?"

His accent was clipped and very polished. It complimented the dark tailored wool suit and crisp white shirt. I could just make out the monogram sticking out from under his cuff.

"No, we are both here for work." Rose grabbed the handle on one of my roller bags. "Thank you for your help."

She looked at me and rolled her eyes as if to as 'get a load of this guy,' and led me towards the exit.

"Excuse me, miss?" The man with the posh accent was calling after us. He held out my iPod. "I don't think you'll want to lose this."

"Oh, thank you!" I retrieved it from him, embarrassed at what a disorganized mess I was.

"Absolutely. Enjoy your visit."

He gave Rose another long look before turning to walk away.

"Honestly, can you believe that guy? Geez. Ogle much?" Rose stepped to the curb and hailed a cab. She gave him the address in Waterloo, and climbed into the back seat.

"Was the flight okay? Did they upgrade you like they were supposed to?"

"Yes, thank you. Although you shouldn't have." Rose immediately waved me off.

"You should have seen the guy that I sat next to. Gorgeous didn't have anything on him."

"Gorgeous is only good if he has a brain." She shot back. Rose had a very low tolerance for dumb men. Unfortunately, most of the guys that could work up the courage to approach her were as pretty as she was, and had the depth of a rain puddle.

"Smart, funny, killer dimples, and he had 'the muscle.'" I used my index finger to trace along my fore arm.

"Oh you just suck! That is so beyond hot."

We both broke into giggles.

"So did you exchange details? Is he going to be here for a while?"

"Yes, he's here on business. And we exchanged cell numbers. I don't think anything will come of it, but he was nice."

"Well, hopefully the hottie from business class with the arms will call you. Lord knows you could use some fun."

"You are bound and determined to purge Mike from my brain, aren't you?"

"Whatever it takes." Rose pointed out our building to the cab driver. "What is your agenda over the next few days? Hang out and moon over your dark prince? Maybe have a terrestrial version of the mile high club with Mr. Business Class?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. More like get settled in. I need to connect with the guy at Kings College first thing tomorrow to get everything arranged. Other than that, get to work."

"Will you at least promise me that you will try and have some fun while you are here? No one knows you. You can go out, be wild, and dance on tables. Do very un Bella like things."

"Rose, I came to London to work on my dissertation, not find myself."

She mumbled something under her breath.

"Whatever you say, Mina. But this is a once in a life time opportunity, and I am going to keep reminding you of that. You don't want to miss out."

"I won't, Rose. I am going to focus on my research, and getting this albatross from around my neck so that I can get on with my life."