The flight attendant appears with champagne. Lady Hampton accepts a glass, but I shake my head—alcohol sounds terrible right now, my stomach is already in knots—and ask for water instead.
“Of course, miss.”
The jet levels out, and I force myself to take a sip of water, to breathe, to not think about Joseph or Glenda or the way he was looking at her like—
Stop.
I press my palms against my thighs.
Focus on something else, Evianne. Focus on anything but him. Them.
And so I do my best to just think about the jet and its plush leather seats while Lady Hampton across from me, sipping her champagne with elegant grace.
She’s so composed. So put-together. The kind of woman who probably never falls apart in airports or makes impulsive decisions or—
My phone buzzes again, and this startles me. We have signal here?
I glance at my employer afer taking it out of my pocket, and she smiles and nods, giving me permission to check my messages.
Joseph:Can’t wait to see you in two weeks. Love you.
The lie sits there on my screen, glowing.
Love...you?
I wonder what he was thinking or feeling when he typed those words.
Did he ever love me, really?
I turn my phone face-down on the seat beside me and close my eyes because I can’t...I can’t look at those words right now, I can’t pretend they mean anything, I can’t—
My throat is tight.
My eyes are burning.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
But it’s too late.
The first tear escapes, and then another, and I’m turning my face toward the window because I cannot fall apart in front of Lady Hampton, I cannot be that person who has a breakdown on her employer’s private jet during their very first meeting.
So stop crying, Evianne!
Stop!
But it’s really too late.
Silent tears are sliding nonstop down my cheeks, and I’m trying so hard to be quiet about it, to not make a sound, to not draw attention to myself, but my shoulders are shaking and my breathing is hitching and—
A tissue appears in front of me.
I blink through my tears and see Lady Hampton standing there, her expression so gentle it makes me cry harder.
She doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t sign anything. Just hands me the tissue and then—
Oh.
Lady Hampton sits down in the seat next to mine and takes my hand.
