Cap puts the plane down in the kind of landing that will definitely earn him the winning points in our game, and we taxi to the gate without delay.
“It’s a gorgeous day to hike,” Vincent finally answers. “Has Claire ever seen Garden of the Gods?”
“I’ll ask.” I have to do my walk-around of the plane anyway. It’s not like I’m jumping at the chance to talk to Claire. Though we did have a great time yesterday, heart glasses excluded.
Vincent unlocks the door. “Any compliments you get on the landing are my points.”
I pause to scoff. “As if I need to cheat.”
“Only if you want to win.”
Chuckling, I step out of the cockpit.
Claire doesn’t meet my gaze. She stands in the galley, hands clasped behind her back, nodding goodbye to passengers as they exit. No easy smile. No friendly banter.
I nod goodbye to passengers too but guide my eyes sideways to check on their flight attendant. Since flying here was a quick leg, I wouldn’tthink much could have happened to upset her. And since she didn’t even know who Andrew James was, she can’t be as upset as I am about missing her chance to see an iconic football stadium.
Of course, something could have happened in the previous leg, since I didn’t get a chance to talk to her in the layover chaos that was Denver’s catering and cleaning crews. She’d been in the back with Desiree, which I figured was a good thing. They’re connecting again.
The last first-class passenger exits, creating a lull in traffic.
“You okay?”
She nods but doesn’t look at me.
“Really? Because I could put a soda in a sock and take someone out for you.”
That gets a small upturn of her lips. “I know why Desiree isn’t talking to me.”
My belly drops as if we’re in a barrel roll. Did Desiree tell Claire that she’s trying to save me from another broken heart? That would be humiliating, but it also doesn’t sound like Desiree. She’s too protective to gossip.
Claire sighs forlornly. “It’s because I’m a terrible flight attendant.”
I rock back on my heels. Claire is a people pleaser, so passengers probably love her. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“I poured orange juice on a woman in a white blouse on our last flight.”
I cover my mouth, turning laughter into a coughing fit. “I’m sure she had it coming.”
Claire pivots toward me, but only to drop her chin and look up with misplaced derision. “There was someone else I would have preferred to dump juice on. But not her.”
A middle-aged couple rolls their bags our way.
The older woman reaches to grasp Claire’s hand. “Great service.”
Claire smiles and sweetens her tone to a lightness that doesn’t match her words. “You’re lucky we didn’t serve drinks on this flight.”
The woman frowns in confusion. Her husband nudges her forward.
I step in to usher her along. “Thanks for flying with us today.” Under my breath, I add, “Learn to accept a compliment, kid.”
She inhales sharply. “You too?”
I’m here to help. Not sure what I’m doing wrong. “Me too what?”
“The whole time we were in Denver, Desiree gave me lessons on service.” She nods and waves to passengers, keeping her tone low enough that only I can hear. “I know she’s trying to help since they don’t train us how to properly puncture a carton of juice to keep it from squirting like a water gun. But if I can’t even do that, how will I ever be able to evacuate the plane in a real emergency?”
I rub a hand over my traitorous smile again.
