He was standing there, arms crossed, waiting for me when I snuck in.
“You shouldn’t follow strange men into the bathroom,” he whispered then kissed me. His arms encircled me, sliding up my skirt to rest on my waist.
“So about the Florida trip,” I said.
He released me and gave me an assessing look.
“You want to cancel,” he said coldly. “That’s fine. I can tell the pilots they aren’t needed. I should probably work anyway.” He turned away from me.
Ugh, you have to go on this trip now.
I slid my palms up his chest.
“No, we definitely can’t cancel, unfortunately.”
He turned back to me.
“My mom is expecting us,” I said weakly.
“Your mom?” he asked, cautious.
“No one can keep a secret around her,” I babbled.
“Sounds like someone else I know.” He raised an eyebrow.
“If it’s too much, which obviously it’s too much, you don’t have to go. I mean, I can’t tell her thatI’mnot going. She’d be devastated, of course. She’s making baked ziti.”
Was Grayson mad? Did he think I was trying to be manipulative and move him too fast into a real adult relationship when all he wanted to do was hook up with his assistant?
“So if you want to cancel, you can. You don’t have to go see my parents. I’ll just buy a plane ticket.”
He tipped up my chin. “Like you said, we can’t disappoint your mom.”
Footsteps approached. I raced to a stall and clambered up on a toilet while I waited for the VP of accounting to finish sucking up to Grayson.
I need to find a new job.
Except I didn’t want to leave Grayson.
I greetedthe flight crew when I climbed into the private jet. Grayson was already there, on the phone. A flight attendant offered me a flute of champagne.
I stood around awkwardly. I’d never been on a private jet. Only commercial flights, usually in the back and usually in a middle seat since I was short and it didn’t seem fair for me to have an aisle seat or a window seat.
But now that I didn’t have to fight with strangers for overhead bag room, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
Grayson was barking at someone on the phone then pulled out his laptop.
“Please take your seat, ma’am,” the flight attendant said, gesturing to a seat on the other side of the aisle and opposite from Grayson.
I sat on it and slid back on the leather, feeling like an imposter in my breezy Florida clothes while everyone else wore business attire.
I thought again about Sam.
McKenna and I had looked her up last night, drinking wine while I packed, and McKenna stalked Samantha’s Instagram. She lived a jet-set life and would be way more at home on this plane than I was.
I swung my feet off the edge of the white leather seat and waited for Grayson to finish his call.
I wondered what the flight attendants were thinking of me. Maybe one of them was friends with Anthym and was at this moment ratting me out. They were probably texting each other about how Grayson was bringing his dumpy assistant with the freckles and snarled hair onto a private jet and that they were going to some Podunk Florida town.
