by Aly Martinez
I swallowed hard and immediately pushed myself out of her lap. “Who paid for it?” I asked Macy while holding Carter’s gaze.
“I put it on your account.” Her gaze swung to Carter before turning back on me. “Shit. Was I not supposed to do that? She said it was cool with you.”
“How much?” I asked ominously.
She chewed on her bottom lip. “Well, I mean, the collection hasn’t been released to the public yet. I got it at a steal.”
Clenching my teeth, I lost my temper. “How fucking much, Macy?”
“Ten grand,” she squeaked.
Carter and I both cursed in unison.
His phone was at his ear before I’d dug mine from my back pocket.
“I talked to her before we took off…the first time. She seemed fine,” I informed him.
“I’m on it. Get some rest and sober up,” he replied.
That was going to be impossible though.
The drone of Robin’s unanswered phone echoed in my ear as I continuously pressed redial. The shock of adrenaline was more sobering than any cup of coffee, shower, or nap possible.
“Henry,” Macy started. “I’m really sorry. I had no idea it would be an issue. I mean, I’ve done stuff like that for her in the past.”
It was a huge issue, but it wasn’t her fault.
“No. I know. It’s okay.” I slid my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my side.
“What’s going on?” she whispered as I once again caught Robin’s voicemail.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Mainly because, until I got in touch with Robin, I was going to do enough worrying for everyone.
The show had been a disaster. I’d more than sobered up on the way over to the arena, but I had been left with a splitting headache. There was a reason I didn’t drink liquor very often. That “very often” being exclusively limited to when I was forced to fly.
I couldn’t imagine how I had sounded as I’d aimlessly wandered around the stage. Sure, I was naturally talented, but most of my success was directly linked to my charisma in front of an audience. Performing was in my blood. Usually, I couldn’t be dragged off the stage at the end of a concert. However, that night, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Robin weighed heavily on my mind.
She still wasn’t answering the phone, and Carter’s guys had come up empty-handed at her apartment.
She was gone.
Again.
And I was gutted.
Again.
After a phone call to my assistant, I managed to get our departure time out of San Francisco moved up to first thing the next morning. I needed to get back to check on her. Then I needed to hit the road later that afternoon if I was going to make my next tour stop—the thought of getting back on the bus being the only thing that relaxed me.
I loved life on the road.
Just not in the air.
“Calm down,” Carter growled.
I blinked. I was on the verge of passing out. I wasn’t sure I could get much calmer than out cold.
“Commercial,” I whispered around the lump in my throat.
“We had no other choice.”
“I own a private jet,” I returned, doing my best to keep from falling apart. It was a lost cause. I’d been a wreck since we’d first arrived at the airport.
“Right now, you own a broken private jet. Call me crazy, but I’m thinking I’d rather travel on a plane that passed inspection this morning.”
My hands trembled as I lifted a bloody mary to my lips. I didn’t give a single damn that it wasn’t even seven in the morning yet. We’d been alerted at five that my plane wasn’t going anywhere. Carter had assured me that I had nothing to worry about. I’d assumed he had secured another plane. I’d just never considered he hated me enough to make it a commercial flight.
Not only had the paparazzi and fans stormed me the second I’d exited the limo, but I’d had to fight my way through security and a never-ending terminal in order to voluntarily buckle myself into a flying metal coffin. Then, to top it all off, they didn’t have gin and tonic.
If that wasn’t a sign of impending doom, I wasn’t sure what was.
“I can’t do this,” I said, yanking my seat belt off and fighting to my feet.
His heavy hand landed on my back, forcing me back into my seat and then shoving me down so my head rested on my knees.
“Deep breath. You’re gonna be fine.”
“A fiery death is rarely considered fine,” I choked out.
“Just breathe.”
“I can’t’!” I struggled against Carter’s pressure on my back, knocking my drink from the cup holder and into his lap.
“Son of a…” he seethed. “Relax.”
“Let’s rent a car, ” I argued as I broke into a full-body sweat.
“Robin has a ten-thousand-dollar purse and hasn’t been seen or heard from since yesterday. You have a sold-out venue to be at tomorrow, and unless you’ve unlocked the magic of adding hours into a day, we don’t have time to drive home. Now, you can get your ass off this plane and drive. But you will be doing it alone.”
I gritted my teeth.
The legs of a flight attendant appeared at Carter’s side. “I brought you some napkins, sir.” She paused. “Would…uh…Mr. Alexander like another bloody mary?”
“You happen to have anything a little stronger hidden back there? Maybe a fistful of Valium?” he asked, not a drip of humor in his voice.
“Don’t even think about it!” I spat at the floor.
Carter groaned. “Yes. He’d love another drink.”
“Of course.” She stalled for a minute as if she’d never seen a grown man in the middle of panic attack being physically restrained by his bodyguard before.
Fucking amateur.
“How’s it going?” a man in a pair of jeans asked as his legs stopped at our row.
“Just another day on the job.” Carter’s hand squeezed my back as he started chuckling.
“And I thought my job was fun.” The deep, masculine voice laughed.
And, quite honestly, it pissed me off. “Move the fuck along,” I bit out.
They both ignored me.
“Glad they were able to get you on a flight.”
“Yeah. We’re back in coach. He gonna be okay?”
“I guess…” Carter started when a loud boom made me jump.
Sitting straight up, I yelled, “What the fuck was that?” My voice echoed off the overhead bins in first class.
“Luggage hatch closing,” the guy answered immediately.
I peered nervously out my window. “How can you be sure it wasn’t the wing falling off?”
He barked a laugh, but I didn’t spare him a glance.
“In my experience, wings don’t just randomly fall off. Especially not while sitting at the gate.”
“Right,” I whispered, smashing my cheek against the window, searching for the wing anyway.
“Well, I’m gonna go sit down. Have a good flight.”
Carter harrumphed. “Not likely. But I’ll try.
The guy’s laugh disappeared as the flight attendant reappeared with my drink. I hastily chugged it down.
She hadn’t walked away when another loud bang sounded.
“What the fuck are they doing out there? Strapping explosives on the wings?”
“Jesus Christ!” Carter hissed. “Can you go ahead and bring another?” he asked. “Hold the tomato juice.”
“Is he going to be okay?” she whispered as if I hadn’t been sitting inches away.
“Why does everyone keep asking that? Do I look like I’m going to be okay? No! I am absolutely not going to be okay. But guess what? I’ll be a hell of a lot closer to okay if you’d hurry up with that drink.”
I’d barely finished my rant before my drink was gone from my hand and Carter was shoving my face back down to my knees.
“He’ll be great. I promise.”
“Grr
rrrrrreat!” I told my legs with a manic laugh.
“Would you fucking stop?” he snarled in my ear. “I swear to God, if you get us kicked off this flight, I will kill you. We have to get home. Take a deep breath, grab your fucking balls, and act like a man. It’s a flight. Not a death march.”
Another loud bang made me flinch.
“What the hell was that?”
He sighed. “Man. Up.”
“I’d like to meet the pilot before we take off. Get his credentials and all. Maybe he’s willing to take a bribe.”
“A bribe? Henry, if the plane crashes, he’s going to be dead too. I’m pretty sure survival is more than enough incentive for him.”
“Maybe, but what if he has a massive gambling debt and needs the life insurance money to take care of his twelve children and handicapped wife?”
He blew out a suffering sigh. “Look, do you think it would make you feel better to know what those sounds are? I mean, if someone could assure that there is nothing to worry about?”
“I don’t know…” I snapped before sucking in a resigned breath. “Just…tell Levee I love her, okay?”
“Dear God,” he mumbled as his grip on my back disappeared.
I sat up with enough time to see him walk out of first class.
WITH MY BASEBALL cap pulled low over my eyes, I attempted to stretch my legs out in the three inches of space the airline had graciously allowed me. I would have given my left nut for a seat in the emergency exit row. The plane was packed, but I was biding my time, waiting for a chat with the flight attendant to see if I could schmooze my way into an open window seat. For a guy my size, being stuck in a middle seat, sandwiched between two other men, was only slightly above the seventh level of Hell. But I guessed, when the company buys you a ticket hours before takeoff, you get what you get.
I would have way rather been in the cockpit of my own plane, but I didn’t have time to wait around for the repairs to be made. I needed to get home and see if I could grab another flight for Jackson. Broken plane or not, a charter pilot didn’t get paid unless he actually flew. I needed the money. Part time was exactly as partially lucrative as it sounded.
“Need a favor, Roth.”
Pushing my hat up, I found Carter hunched over in the aisle and staring down at me.
“Sure. What’s up?”
After retrieving his wallet from his back pocket, he pushed some bills in my direction. “Two hundred bucks. Switch seats with me and talk him through takeoff.”
“I’m sorry. What?” I asked before glancing at the hairy guy to my left, who was clearly unaware that deodorant had been invented.
“He’s flipping out up there and, quite honestly, I don’t know what the hell to tell him. We need to get home. But, right now, either he’s going to get kicked off for acting like a maniac or I’m going to smother him with a six-inch courtesy pillow.” He stopped to give me a shrug that said he wasn’t kidding. “I’m thinking, if he had someone to explain what was going on, he could keep his shit together. If not, we’ll still have the pillow as a backup plan.”
My eyes slid to the men on either side of me before I popped my eyebrows in question. “You want to pay me two hundred bucks to move to first class?”
“No, I want to pay you two hundred bucks to talk bullshit about planes.”
I smirked then plucked the money from his hands. “What do you know—plane bullshit just happens to be my specialty.”
He backed up to allow me out of the row. “You have any experience in crisis negotiation?”
I tipped my head to the side. “Should I?”
He shrugged and clamped his hand on my shoulder. “Couldn’t hurt. Good luck up there.”
“Uh…thanks,” I said skeptically.
He seemed entirely too excited to squeeze his mammoth body into a tiny-ass economy seat.
Whatever. Better him than me.
He shared my feelings.
“Better you than me!” he called out with a laugh as I headed up front.
I got the feeling two hundred bucks, extra leg room, and free drinks weren’t going to be an upgrade at all.
And my suspicions were confirmed as I made my way through the magical curtain of opulence that divided first class from the commoners.
Yep. I’d been duped.
“I need a drink. Now!” Henry yelled.
Yes. Yelled.
“Sir, you’ve already had two and we haven’t even taken off yet,” the busty, redheaded flight attendant said as the other passengers watched on—a few snapping pictures with their cell phones.
“Which only makes my glass that much more empty.” He pushed to his feet, and if his glossed-over eyes were any indication, the last thing he needed was another drink.
“Hey. Hey. Hey.” I stepped in front of him before he had the chance to exit his row. Placing a hand on his chest, I gently pushed him back. “Let’s hold off on the drinks until we get in the air…and maybe back on the ground.”
His gaze menacingly drifted down to my hand. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he whispered as his solid pec flexed against my palm.
I cocked a challenging eyebrow. “Not a problem as long as you sit down and stop acting like an entitled asshole.”
He held his ground and studied my face for a moment before yelling, “Carter!”
Yes. Yelled. Again.
Inches from my face.
In the middle of a plane loaded with passengers.
The sound echoed off the overhead bins, assaulting me repeatedly before fading away.
Clenching my teeth, I peeked over my shoulder at the nervous flight attendant and tossed her an encouraging grin. “Go ahead. I’ll take care of him. I swear.”
“You’ll take care of who?” Henry smarted.
I kept my attention on the flight attendant.
Her eyes flashed to mine for only a second before jumping back to Henry. “He can’t act like this. It’s disruptive for everyone.”
I leaned to the side to block her view of him and assured, “I understand. I promise I’ll handle it.”
Even if I have to use Carter’s pillow idea.
She didn’t seem convinced, but she nodded and slowly moved away.
Turning my attention back to Henry, I stepped into his space, the bill of my hat nearly bumping his forehead. Being afraid to fly was one thing, but being a dick to a person trying to do their job was something else completely. I didn’t care how famous he was.
“I will say this one time and one time only. I don’t give a single fuck who you are. You will watch your damn mouth. That woman does not get paid enough to deal with that shit from you. She only has to make one call and you’ll find yourself banned from flying for the rest of the day.” I loomed forward, forcing him to shuffle back. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d like to get home today. Catering to rich assholes is only a small part of her job. She has safety checks to perform before we can even close the cabin door.” I gave his chest a shove. “Now, we wouldn’t want her to be distracted while she does those, would we?”
His eyes flared wide in understanding, but he remained silent.
“Sit. Down,” I ordered in an angry whisper. Great pleasure washed over me as his cocky attitude melted away.
Breaking our stare, I settled into my new seat on the aisle. Casually crossing my legs, ankle to knee, I blocked him in our row.
He remained standing, glaring down as me as he hunched over with his elbow propped on the seatback in front of him. He was dressed similarly as he’d been the day before, but today, the V-neck pulled tight over his muscular chest was gray and his jeans appeared to be genuinely tattered from wear rather than the designer denim he’d been sporting. His blond hair wasn’t the mass of messy spikes as it had been. Instead, it was naturally sweeping across his forehead. A thin layer of blond scruff covered the curve of his strong jaw, making it obvious he hadn’t shaved since I’d seen him last.
He didn’t look like a spoiled multimillion-dollar superstar a
nymore.
But he sure as hell was acting the part.
“That seat’s taken,” he informed, rudely.
“Yes, Forrest Gump, it is. By me. Now, sit.”
He lowered his tall body into his seat. “Um, no. My bodyguard—”
“Paid me two hundred bucks to come sit up here with you.”
His mouth fell opened and closed several times before he finally exclaimed, “He did what?”
Ignoring his outburst, I searched for my seat belt. “Better buckle up,” I suggested. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen to a superstar like you in the air.” I winked, knowing good and damn well it was going to set him off.
“Where’s Carter?” he seethed. Then he suddenly paused the anger to flash a kind smile at the flight attendant as she walked past.
“Hey, look at you, fast learner,” I praised with a wide grin.
As he settled deeper into his seat, his piercing, blue eyes dropped to my mouth, lingering for a beat too long.
My smile wavered under his scrutiny, and for the briefest of seconds, I swear I saw a victorious twitch pull at the corner of his lips.
“Who the hell are you anyway? Air marshal who pulled the short straw on babysitting?” he asked quietly—as if he suddenly gave a damn about the dozen passengers who had been watching his hissy fit.
I narrowed my eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” he bit back. His gaze stayed locked on mine as he tipped his empty glass to his lips, sucking back nothing more than a drop of melted ice before passing it to me. “Take care of that.”
I rolled my eyes and then signaled to the flight attendant.
She gave Henry a wary glance before retrieving the glass, switching it for a cup of ice water. “Everything good?”
“Perfection,” Henry replied with a saccharine smile. He then held her gaze and tossed back the water as a show of good faith. When she was out of earshot, he grumbled a curse. “Anyway…who are you?”
Tugging my hat off, I ran a hand through my thick, dark hair before rocking it back on. “Evan Roth. Your pilot. We met yesterday.”
The muscles in his jaw ticked as he gave me a quick head-to-toe appraisal. “Oh. Right. You broke my plane.”
“I didn’t break your plane. It had—”