“That was one time.”
“Twice. You also tried to open the fridge this morning and stood there for ten seconds before realizing it was the pantry.”
Her shoulders tensed. “You’re exhausting.”
“And you’re running on two hours of sleep. So forgive me for not trusting your spatial awareness right now.”
She stepped into the cabin and I retracted the umbrella just before stepping inside. The cabin was dimly lit, the overhead lights set low, everything designed for comfort and privacy.
The flight attendant, a woman in her mid-thirties with a sleek ponytail and the calm, efficient energy of someone who’d seen it all, greeted us with a professional smile.
“Mr Michaels, Miss Carter.” Her gaze flicked to Hazel, still tucked snugly against Vi’s chest. “Welcome aboard. Let me know if you need anything.”
Thank fuck for NDAs. Anyone who worked for me or the team had to sign them before being granted any sort of access.
“Appreciate it,” I said.
The pilot, an older guy, sharp-eyed but relaxed, leaned briefly out of the cockpit. “Should be clear skies most of theway,” he said. “Bit of turbulence over the Bay of Bengal, but nothing major.”
I nodded. “Perfect. Thanks.”
He disappeared back inside, and the flight attendant gestured toward the cabin. “Make yourselves comfortable.”
Comfortable was an understatement.
The jet was sleek and modern, the kind of understated luxury that didn’t try too hard but still felt expensive. Cream leather seats lined both sides of the cabin, wide and plush, the kind that could fully recline with the press of a button. A polished wood table sat between them, its surface clean except for a neatly folded blanket and a bottle of water.
Violet instantly clocked the small bassinet set up for Hazel, but before she could lower her in, she wrinkled her nose.
“She needs changing.”
I raised a brow. “Already?”
“Yes.” She unclipped the sling and lifted Hazel out, holding her toward me. “I’ll check the bassinet.”
I took the baby and the nappy bag from her, and made my way to the bedroom tucked at the back. The bed was made up with fresh sheets that looked far too pristine for what was about to happen.
I laid Hazel down and unsnapped her onesie. She kicked, making unhappy noises that promised to escalate.
“Yeah, I know. Not thrilled about this either.”
I got to work. Christ. What a waste of a perfectly good bed. But what else was I supposed to do? Let her sit in it for thirteen hours?
By the time I finished and got her back into clean clothes, Violet had everything set up for Hazel.
“Sorted.”
She took Hazel and lowered her into the bassinet. Hazel’s eyes fluttered. Violet brushed the dummy against her lips. Shelatched on, her tiny mouth working around the silicone, and Violet exhaled like she’d just diffused a bomb.
“What’s with the dummy?” I asked, curious since I’d never seen her use a dummy before.
“I’m hoping it’ll help with the altitude change.” She kept her voice soft, watching Hazel closely.
I raised a brow. “That a real thing, or are you manifesting?”
Violet shot me a look. “Sucking helps relieve the pressure in their ears.”
When the baby’s eyes fluttered shut, Violet straightened up. When she didn’t scream, she took a step back. Sighing, she dragged her fingers through her hair and met my gaze.
