“He’s flipping out up there and, quite honestly, I don’t know what the hell to tell him. We need to get home. But, right now, either he’s going to get kicked off for acting like a maniac or I’m going to smother him with a six-inch courtesy pillow.” He stopped to give me a shrug that said he wasn’t kidding. “I’m thinking, if he had someone to explain what was going on, he could keep his shit together. If not, we’ll still have the pillow as a backup plan.”
My eyes slid to the men on either side of me before I popped my eyebrows in question. “You want to pay me two hundred bucks to move to first class?”
“No, I want to pay you two hundred bucks to talk bullshit about planes.”
I smirked then plucked the money from his hands. “What do you know—plane bullshit just happens to be my specialty.”
He backed up to allow me out of the row. “You have any experience in crisis negotiation?”
I tipped my head to the side. “Should I?”
He shrugged and clamped his hand on my shoulder. “Couldn’t hurt. Good luck up there.”
“Uh…thanks,” I said skeptically.
He seemed entirely too excited to squeeze his mammoth body into a tiny-ass economy seat.
Whatever. Better him than me.
He shared my feelings.
“Better you than me!” he called out with a laugh as I headed up front.
I got the feeling two hundred bucks, extra leg room, and free drinks weren’t going to be an upgrade at all.
And my suspicions were confirmed as I made my way through the magical curtain of opulence that divided first class from the commoners.
Yep. I’d been duped.
“I need a drink. Now!” Henry yelled.
Yes. Yelled.
“Sir, you’ve already had two and we haven’t even taken off yet,” the busty, redheaded flight attendant said as the other passengers watched on—a few snapping pictures with their cell phones.
“Which only makes my glass that much more empty.” He pushed to his feet, and if his glossed-over eyes were any indication, the last thing he needed was another drink.
“Hey. Hey. Hey.” I stepped in front of him before he had the chance to exit his row. Placing a hand on his chest, I gently pushed him back. “Let’s hold off on the drinks until we get in the air…and maybe back on the ground.”
His gaze menacingly drifted down to my hand. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he whispered as his solid pec flexed against my palm.
I cocked a challenging eyebrow. “Not a problem as long as you sit down and stop acting like an entitled asshole.”
He held his ground and studied my face for a moment before yelling, “Carter!”
Yes. Yelled. Again.
Inches from my face.
In the middle of a plane loaded with passengers.
The sound echoed off the overhead bins, assaulting me repeatedly before fading away.
Clenching my teeth, I peeked over my shoulder at the nervous flight attendant and tossed her an encouraging grin. “Go ahead. I’ll take care of him. I swear.”
“You’ll take care of who?” Henry smarted.
I kept my attention on the flight attendant.
Her eyes flashed to mine for only a second before jumping back to Henry. “He can’t act like this. It’s disruptive for everyone.”
I leaned to the side to block her view of him and assured, “I understand. I promise I’ll handle it.”
Even if I have to use Carter’s pillow idea.
She didn’t seem convinced, but she nodded and slowly moved away.
Turning my attention back to Henry, I stepped into his space, the bill of my hat nearly bumping his forehead. Being afraid to fly was one thing, but being a dick to a person trying to do their job was something else completely. I didn’t care how famous he was.
“I will say this one time and one time only. I don’t give a single fuck who you are. You will watch your damn mouth. That woman does not get paid enough to deal with that shit from you. She only has to make one call and you’ll find yourself banned from flying for the rest of the day.” I loomed forward, forcing him to shuffle back. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d like to get home today. Catering to rich assholes is only a small part of her job. She has safety checks to perform before we can even close the cabin door.” I gave his chest a shove. “Now, we wouldn’t want her to be distracted while she does those, would we?”
His eyes flared wide in understanding, but he remained silent.
“Sit. Down,” I ordered in an angry whisper. Great pleasure washed over me as his cocky attitude melted away.
Breaking our stare, I settled into my new seat on the aisle. Casually crossing my legs, ankle to knee, I blocked him in our row.
He remained standing, glaring down as me as he hunched over with his elbow propped on the seatback in front of him. He was dressed similarly as he’d been the day before, but today, the V-neck pulled tight over his muscular chest was gray and his jeans appeared to be genuinely tattered from wear rather than the designer denim he’d been sporting. His blond hair wasn’t the mass of messy spikes as it had been. Instead, it was naturally sweeping across his forehead. A thin layer of blond scruff covered the curve of his strong jaw, making it obvious he hadn’t shaved since I’d seen him last.
He didn’t look like a spoiled multimillion-dollar superstar anymore.
But he sure as hell was acting the part.
“That seat’s taken,” he informed, rudely.