The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Speak of the devil, he’s headed my way.Fuck my life.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says to the bartender, and I smirk at the eyeroll she’s hiding behind her smile. “Johnny Walker Blue, two-fingers, neat.”
Classic dick move—ordering an expensive scotch. As if I give a shit.And unlike the bartender, I’m not serving him, so I let my eyes roll back so far I get an instant migraine as he takes a seat at the barstool next to me.Great.
“Well, hello again,” he says, his voice lower than before. “Guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot this season.”
I stare deep into the abyss of my drink as I reluctantly nod my head. “I guess so.” My stomach churns—he’s right. I have to see him a lot. Every. Damn. Flight.Great.
“I upgraded my room to a suite. I’ve stayed at this hotel before, and the standard rooms are so small it’s almost unlivable.”
I peek over from the corner of my eye. “You having a dance party in there or something? I go to my room and go to sleep.”
“These trips get so lonely. I like a little extra space in case I want some company.”
My ice clinks against the side of my glass. “Good for you.”
The waitress brings him his whisky, and he hands her his card to start a tab, leaning forward in his seat as he watches her walk away.This guy never stops, does he?
He takes a sip, then shifts his body toward me. “How about you? You ever getlonelyon these trips? I’d be happy to give you some company.”
Is he trying to hit on me?After he just ogled the waitress? After he insulted my ability to carry out my duties today? My brows narrow, and my jaw clenches. He’s out of his mind if he thinks he’s going to win me over by ordering an expensive drink and telling me he’s lonely.Of course,this is my new co-worker. Congratulations, Kennedy Kramer! You’ve won a free roundtrip ticket to your own personal hell.
I swivel to face him, scooting farther away without caring if he sees. “I enjoy my alone time.”
“You could enjoy some alone time with me.”
“I’m pretty sure alone time implies being by yourself, Chadd.”
“Come on; don’t you want to have some fun? These trips get so boring.”
“No. I enjoy the solitude. I get caught up on books, binge-watch trashy TV, and get a good night’s sleep so I’m prepared to do my job.”
He leans in closer, placing his hand on top of my arm resting on the bar. My entire body cringes at his touch as the bile rises in my throat.
“You can just relax on the flight tomorrow night. I’ll let you know when I need help, but I can handle the jet on my own. That’s basically what I had to do today anyway.”
A furious fire rips through me like a stick of dynamite exploded in my chest.How. Fucking. Dare. He.One damn day into having a new pilot and I’m already being harassed and demeaned.
“I canrelax?” I spit out through gritted teeth. “On a flight where I am scheduled to be flying? That’s not how it works, and you fucking know it. We split the duties, like a team, for the safety of everyone on board. I did my jobto perfectiontoday. And, unlike you, I take it seriously.”
“Don’t be so uptight, sweetheart. A pretty thing like you doesn’t want to end up with early wrinkles from that scowl.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart,” I say through gritted teeth. But this joker doesn’t get the hint. He doesn’t see I’m two seconds away from destroying my entire career by punching him in the face. My fist shakes in my lap as I contemplate doing it, desperate to throw caution to the wind and use my training so I don’t actually break my knuckles, when someone steps up next to me, the presence all encompassing.
“Sorry that took so long, babe. I couldnotget my agent off the phone—what a yapper!”
The room spins around me, my body frozen in place like a raccoon caught mid-dumpster dive. Shock is not even an accurate word to describe what’s happening as I watch the one person, who may be cockier than my captain, extend his handto Chadd. My pulse races, my stomach drops, trying to figure out what hell is happening here. And whatever it is, it just keeps getting worse.
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet. I’m Jordan Boucher, Kennedy’s boyfriend.”
9
jordan
A few minutes earlier
Rolling onto my side with a huff, I punch the hotel pillow, willing it to fill with more feathers. Goddamit, why can’t things be magic like in the movies so I can get some fucking sleep? She dismissed me.Again. Why do I let this get to me? Why do I let her cold response hit my heart like a tranquilizer dart, making my entire body completely numb?If only the metaphorical tranquilizer would help me sleep.I don’t even know how long I’ve been tossing and turning. I’ve flipped over my pillow at least ten times. I’ve tried counting in English. In French. Imagining bobbleheads jumping over my bed. Anything to get me to relax.
