Lisa rolls her eyes as I feign ignorance. “You know, tall, dark, broody with ink like sin and a smoulder that could melt metal.”
Of course, she’s talking about Dan or D’Angelo or whatever he calls himself. He’s the hottest man on this flight and the most deceitful. I smooth out an imaginary wrinkle in my skirt. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, he sure set my knickers on fire. If he called me Rose, I’d change my bloody name. He can call me anything he likes.”
My lips curve into a smile. All these years, I always wondered what it would be like to bump into him again. And now I don’t even know what to say. My fingers fumble with the seatbelt as the plane approaches the runway. I hope Dan’s all right. He never told me he was an anxious passenger, or maybe it was seeing me again after all these years that hadhim all hot and bothered. I laugh inwardly at the ridiculous thought. Men don’t get excitable with worn-out, overweight single mums in their thirties.
The plane gains speed and I’m pinned back in my seat. The cabin shakes as we boom down the runway. My stomach flips on lift-off. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation. My favourite part of this job is being in the air. It’s the only place I can be free without looking over my shoulder.
Except today.
When he said my name, I wanted to wrap my arms around him, bask in his safety, but I also wanted to slap him across the face. He may be Mr. Inferno, but I can’t let his devilishly handsome looks blind me as to who he really is and what he did to me. I need to keep myself under control around him and play it cool.
It’s just under a three-hour flight.
I can get through this.
“I wonder who Rose is?” Lisa says.
“Probably a dead girlfriend.” I may as well be dead to him. It’s been thirteen years and nine months, to be exact, and he’s made no attempt to reach out to me. It wouldn’t have been that difficult to find me before I changed my name.
“Ooooh, that’s tragic,” Lisa says. She doesn’t know the half of it. Our story could give Romeo and Juliet a run for its money. I may not have killed myself, but I’ve been numb since the day he left.
The light signals that we’re able to take off our seatbelts. “Time to get to work.” Lisa loads the drinks trolly.
“Do you want to take business class and I’ll do economy?” Avoiding him is probably for the best. I can’t be dragged into his world. Years ago, I was a naïve little girl. Now a woman, I am all too familiar with the ways of men. Being forced to marry a narcissist and head of the London crime syndicate, you learn fast how to deal with men.
“Sure. I’ll take Mr. Inferno.” She gives me a wink and sashays through the curtain, pushing the first class trolley.
I slip into the locker and pull my phone out of my pocket, checking I’m connected to the plane’s Wi-Fi, and send a message.
Good luck today with your football match. Love you. X
My son’s picture smiles at me on my screen backdrop. An old photo of just the two of us. Just how I like it. I slip the phone back into my locker and carry on loading the trolley.
Lisa’s head pokes out from behind the curtain. “Grace. He’s asking for you.”
I roll my eyes. Of course he is. “Tell him I’m busy.”
“I did, but he insisted he wants you to serve him.”
Blood rushes to my head, making it difficult to think straight. I tug at my necktie, needing more air.
“Are you all right?”
“Just a little light-headed.” I fold the seat down and sit, taking deep breaths. I’ve been through hell. Another two hours with Dan should be like a walk in the park, but the thought of going back out there makes me nauseous.
“Take a minute. I’ll tell him you’re indisposed.”
“Thanks.” I lock myself in the toilet for a few minutes. I need to get it together. He’ll be waiting for the drink I promised, but I just can’t bring myself to go back out there. I should pour myself a shot for Dutch courage.
Staring at the mirror, I check my reflection. Thanks to a full face of makeup, I don’t look pale or flustered.
He’s just a man.A man who broke your heart.I sigh and close my eyes. A hundred memories race through my head. Memories I’ve tried to forget. Thinking of him was too painful.
The smell of the chemical toilet hits my nose and I needair. I need to get off this plane and put as much distance between us as possible.
I lift the handle and unlock the door, but as I push it open, tattooed fingers curl around the frame. My heart beats wildly beneath my ribs, like a caged bird trying to escape, but on the outside, I remain calm. I’m trained to deal with any flight emergency, but this isn’t turbulence. This is a crash waiting to happen.
