The PA crackles and then the captain chats pleasantly about our flight path and the weather over the speakers. We’re just about to taxi down the runway when Candy finally tells Luka he needs to take a seat and buckle up. He does, his hand lightly slapping her ass as she walks away. My blood goes cold.
What the actual fuck is he doing?
“Luka,” I hiss.
He doesn’t turn to look at me. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge that I’m here at all. The slow burn of jealousy and hurt starts to heat to pure anger in my blood and I try to temper it by scrolling through my social media pages with my jaw clenched hard. By now I have a million notifications asking about the honeymoon, begging for pictures and details.
It’s a good thing social media is ninety-nine percent fake, because every photo of Luka and I together might show us smiling and in love, but behind those forced grins is pain and anger, and that’s not the kind of content my followers want to see. We pulled off the happy couple image like pros, of course. No one will ever know what went on—or didn’t—behind the closed doors of our luxuriously romantic Paris hotel.
Except maybe for Candy.
She’s back at Luka’s side now, bending low to hand him a drink. Her breasts nearly spill from the unbuttoned top of her uniform blouse. His arm twitches, as if he were going to touch her but managed to stop himself. They laugh again, and this time he does reach up toward her. My stomach drops as his fingers brush the dip of her back. She leaves again, swaying her curvy hips and giving a coy glance over her shoulder.
This is a different flight attendant than we had coming here, and she and Luka obviously have history. She’s also much less professional and way more brash, with her hair teased big, her huge fake lashes, her lips a seductive glossy pink. I’m sure the cleavage on her uniform probably isn’t standard…it’s almost as if she dolled herself up on purpose.
Well, if she’d hoped to get Luka’s attention, it worked. He tilts his head slightly and keeps his eyes glued to her as she works in the small galley area at the front of the plane.
She’s preparing a snack and making a big show of it, turning just right so her breasts are angled for Luka’s viewing pleasure. Dropping something so she has to bend over and retrieve it. While she’s at it, she fusses with a strap on her shoe, making slow work of it, running her fingers over her ankle and lightly up her calf while chatting with Luka in a low purr.
Now my face flames hot. Fuck this. I’m about to get up when Candy glides from the galley with a tray in her hands. Her friendly smile does nothing to hide the fire in her eyes. She knows what she’s doing and isn’t afraid to hide the fact that she’s after my husband.
“Sparkling water, cucumber sandwiches, vanilla cinnamon-coated dates?”
I don’t move. I simply look up at her. She bats her lashes and gestures at my tray table.
“Shall I just leave your plate right here, then?”
All I can do is glare. “Go ahead.”
She sets down the plate and glass and the folded cloth napkin with zero fanfare. No giggling, no boobs in my face. With a final blink, she spins and heads back to Luka, almost immediately going low with her cleavage near his arm. The plane makes a hasty bump and she grips the back of Luka’s chair, falling into him. Of course, his hand goes around her waist to steady her, then runs slowly to the rise of her ass. And out come the giggles.
Enough’s enough.
He might have gotten away with fooling around in Paris, on our honeymoon of all things, but this is too close to home. And who knows, Candy might even be the type of person who’s eager to sell their dirty celebrity gossip to the highest bidder. We’re trying to improve our public image, not muddy it even more.
I whip off my seatbelt and go to Luka, coming up behind him and sliding my left arm over the back of his chair as I bend to speak in his ear. He looks at me with a slight jerk, as if I’ve taken him by complete surprise. Candy doesn’t have the good sense to get off my husband and I’m inclined to push her, but I don’t.
“Honey,” I croon next to his ear. “You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to stop now.”
He looks at me like he has no idea what I’m talking about. “Time to stop what? We’re just having fun. Are you jealous?” His voice is pointed, hard and loud enough that Candy can certainly hear him.
“No.” I straighten up and cross my arms. “But you’re making a mistake.”
He grins with an amused huff. “Why do you care so much?”
I draw back and shake my head. I’ll never admit to him how I really feel. “I don’t.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Your image is the problem. You have a reputation to uphold. For DRM.”
Scoffing, he looks at Candy while he speaks. “No press here to see anything, Brooklyn.”
I can’t believe he’s being so blasé about this. “You really think messing around with an employee is a good idea? All hell will break loose if that gets out. You can’t trust just anyone.”
“That’s rich, you telling me who to trust.” He leans back in his chair and spreads his knees, beckoning the flight attendant to come over. “The thing is, Candy and I go way back. She’s definitely earned my trust.”
In one swift motion he pulls her onto his lap, his hand resting high on her thigh. She smiles, her arm around his neck as he gives me a lazy look, the glint of venom in his eyes.
