He had very little hope Christa would forgive him. He certainly wouldn’t if he were in her shoes. But he owed her an apology nonetheless. He glanced at his clock. It was twelve-thirty. She might still be sleeping. He wouldn’t be doing himself any favors if he woke her up. He would need to wait a while longer to go over to Bex’s condo.
He spent about ten minutes pacing, thinking. Finally, he realized his time would be better spent conferring with his friends. The ones who were right, it turned out. He grabbed his keys and rushed out the door.
Ten minutes later, he pulled up to the office and jogged into the building.
Hatch came to the door of his office, probably expecting a client in the waiting room. His eyebrows lifted. “I thought you were working from home?”
“I was, but something happened. I need your help.”
Sweets and Tank came out of their offices and joined Hatch in the hallway. Sweets was frowning. “Did you by chance pull your head out of your ass?”
Yeah, I deserve that. It was his unwillingness to face this recrimination that had kept Mack from coming into the office for the last day and a half. He nodded and then shook his head. “No, it got yanked out for me, but same difference.”
Tank’s brows lifted to match Hatch’s. “Please tell me you confronted Little Miss House Player.”
Mack winced. “No. She left her bag at my house, some things fell out, among them was shocking evidence she fantasizes about me. I took it next door, she wasn’t home, her roommates shoved into the doorframe and made me see the light. They even had a bet between them about whether or not Tina’s story to them about her relationship with me was true.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, man,” Hatch said.
Mack ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted to apologize to you guys for being such a fucking idiot, but mostly I’m just killing time so I don’t wake Christa up before I apologize to her next.”
“No need to apologize to us,” Sweets said, “we get it. You’ve known Tina her entire life. It’s hard to think ill of a close family friend. And I doubt she started out so malicious. It was probably just a crush for many years. But recently she started taking things too far.”
Mack cringed. “I hate to ask. How mean was she to Christa?”
Hatch winced. “Very. It was bad. Very bad. And Christa is so damn nice. She just took it. She was too nice to even tell you the things that Tina said to her.”
Mack groaned. “Fuck.”
“Yeah. I’ll be honest with you. I think you blew that one. No amount of groveling is going to get you back in her good graces. It was over the top. But I’m sure she’ll appreciate an apology at least.”
Mack blew out a long breath. “Well, thanks for listening. I no longer have on my stupid-goggles. I promise not to be such a jackass in the future.”
Tank offered a conciliatory smile. “No worries, man. We get it. We figured eventually something would happen to convince you things weren’t as they seemed, but you had to figure it out on your own.”
“Yeah. I should have listened, though.” Mack backed toward the entrance. “I’ll talk to you all later. And don’t worry about tomorrow. I’ll be ready to meet with the client.”
“Okay. Let us know if you need anything,” Hatch responded.
Chapter 25
Christa was still stumbling around in the kitchen, first glass of iced coffee in hand, lights still dimmed even though it was almost two in the afternoon, when a knock sounded at the door.
She was grateful she’d finally slept a full seven hours. She was also grateful that whoever was at the door hadn’t shown up sooner than now and hadn’t rung the doorbell because Bex was still sleeping.
She opened the door without looking first, and was shocked to find Mack standing a foot away from her, fingers tucked in his pockets.
For several seconds she stared at him, and then lifted her glass and took a long drink. She needed the caffeine before she could face him and process that he was truly standing there.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Why?”
“I have a few things to say.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“You might be right, and I don’t expect you to forgive me for my stupidity, but I’d at least like to apologize. In person.”
Christa drew in a slow breath as she stepped back and let him in. She wasn’t vengeful enough to be mean. His issues were his issues. Not hers. She would let him say his peace and then politely ask him to leave. Preferably before he ripped a bigger hole in her heart.
“Thank you.” He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “Is that your first glass of coffee?”
“Yes.”
“Want me to wait while you make another?” He was smiling. Slightly.
She turned around and headed for the kitchen as she glanced down at her T-shirt and shorts. Who cared what she was wearing? “Sure.”
He followed her, making her nervous. She didn’t want to have this confrontation. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might wise up anytime soon. She would rather have had more time to get stronger. And more coffee. She didn’t have enough in her and it hadn’t kicked in yet.
So, yes. She was going to make a second glass while he waited.
After doctoring it up just right, she turned and leaned against the counter, taking a sip from her second glass. Cold. Sweet. Creamy. Perfect.
Mack had dropped into a kitchen chair. He lifted his gaze when she faced him, looking chagrined. “I know there’s nothing I can do to make things right between us. I really fucked up. But I wanted you to know that I realize now I’ve been a royal asshole, and I’m very sorry for everything.”
She took another drink of her second glass and set it on the counter. “Thank you.” She wondered what had happened to clue him in, but didn’t feel like asking.
“I’m sure you’re still super pissed with me, and you have a right to be, but I want you to know that I really like you. I have from the moment we met. We clicked. We have a connection. And I’d give anything for a second chance if you ever feel like you’re able to give me one.”
She glared at him. “Too soon, Mack.”
He nodded, swallowing. Good. He deserved to feel remorseful. He wasn’t wrong—he had fucked up. “I know.” He stood and wiped his palms on his jeans. “I just needed to tell you how sorry I am. I won’t bother you. I have no right. If you ever find it in your heart to forgive me, please give me a call.”
She tipped her head to one side. “It’s not about forgiving you, Mack. I can do that easily. You’re forgiven. It’s about trust. And I don’t trust you. It’s not just about Tina. You have other issues, too. There were red flags. I saw them all the time. I’m mad at myself for ignoring them and continuing to spend time with you like some stray puppy when the signs were all there. You held me at arm’s length, and I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
He swallowed hard. “I know. I made mistakes, but my issues have nothing to do with you just so you know. I’ve had more fun with you than any woman I’ve ever dated. I should have listened to everyone when they warned me Tina was a disaster, and I should have been upfront from the first date about my other…issues. I fucked this up all by myself. You don’t own this. I do. All you ever were was sweet and kind. I’m totally to blame. And, again, I’m so very sorry.”
“Like I said, apology accepted.” It took every ounce of willpower to shove off the counter and walk to the front door. She opened it and stood in the doorway, making it clear that this confrontation was over.
Mack followed her. He hesitated in the doorway, so close she could smell him, his shampoo, his soap, his aftershave.
She pursed her lips and tried to hold her breath. She definitely didn’t want to lose her composure until he was gone.
He reached out hesitantly and took her hand, rubbing the backs of her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. Finally, he dropped her fingers and walked out the door.
She watched
him walk toward his car for about three seconds and then shut the door quietly. For a moment, she leaned against the back of the door, and then her knees went weak and she slid down to the floor, cupped her face in her hands at her knees, and cried.
Chapter 26
Two weeks later…
* * *
“I promise I’m on three waiting lists,” Christa told Bex and Shayla on Saturday morning. “Who knew it was so darn hard to get a single apartment in this area? I know I’ve overstayed my welcome, but I don’t want you to think I’m not working on a solution.”
Bex was sitting in the corner of the couch, feet up on the coffee table, putting nail polish on. “No one’s rushing you, Christa. You’re fine.”
“She’s right,” Shayla said around a bite of sandwich. She was sitting in the armchair, flipping through channels with the television on mute. “You’re fine, but…have you considered the fact that maybe you don’t actually want to find an apartment?”
Christa flinched and glanced at Shayla from her end of the couch. She frowned. “Why wouldn’t I want to find a place? I’m sleeping on your couch. I’m inconveniencing my friends. My stuff is piled in your living room. Of course, I’m looking for my own place.”
Shayla lifted her brows. “Well… I mean… I wonder if you’re not bemoaning the fact that it was much nicer staying with Mack?” She winced as she finished her sentence.
Christa sucked in a breath and blinked at her friend.
“She’s right,” Bex said from her other side. “I know you’re stuffing your feelings for him down as deep as possible, and I totally get that. We all do. He fucked up. Badly. If I were you, I would totally kick him to the curb and never look back. But I’m not you. You’re more sensitive, and I know you fell hard for him. I also know you well enough to know you’re probably spending a lot of time every day wondering if you’ve made the right choice.”
Christa pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her shins, hugging them tight. She stared at the coffee table for a long time.
“We love you, honey,” Shayla said. “A lot. And you’re welcome to do whatever feels right to you, but I think you need to talk to Mack again. Clear the air. Make sure you really purge him from your system if that’s truly what you want. If you still think you can’t forgive him, then it will be easier to move on after you’ve said your peace.”
Her friends were right. She hadn’t thought that closely about it, but there was no doubt she thought about him all the time. She missed him. She’d fallen hard for him in just a few short weeks. Even though he’d come over and apologized, she didn’t have closure. It was holding her back.
“You’re probably right.”
She needed to talk to him. The ball was in her court. If nothing else, she needed to say some things. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time today before she worked tonight.
While she had the nerve, she quickly grabbed her phone and shot off a text to Mack.
Hey, I’d like to talk sometime if you’re available. Maybe tomorrow?
She stared at the phone for a few seconds and then dropped it in her lap when he didn’t respond. There was no reason to read anything into it. Maybe he was busy.
“That scowl on your face is starting to look permanent,” Tank commented as he wiped his hands on a towel and moved to the next weights station.
Mack glanced at him, probably scowling further. He had nothing to say in response.
“Why don’t you talk to her? Tell her exactly what has happened in the last few weeks.”
Mack sighed as he lay back on a bench, intent on continuing his workout by bench pressing. “Did that.”
“Well, since it didn’t work, and you’re clearly not going to be able to walk away, maybe you should do it again.” Tank set his hands on the bar and leaned over Mack.
Mack narrowed his gaze. “Back off.”
Tank lifted both hands. “I’m just trying to help. You’re in love with her, and I think you should fight for what you want. Don’t let her walk away so easily.”
Mack lifted the bar and lowered it slowly to his chest. He didn’t want to think about Tank’s suggestion, but the man was right. Mack really needed to find his balls, man up, and face Christa again. If she was dead set on not seeing him anymore, then he would let her go. But he needed to fight harder first. One short chat while she was incredibly angry with him couldn’t be the last straw.
He would do it. He just needed to figure out what to say and pull himself together.
Chapter 27
Christa was in a slightly better mood when she and Bex arrived at work that night. She had resolved herself to face Mack. Tomorrow. After she’d slept, of course. She was off tomorrow night. At least if anything good happened between them, she wouldn’t have to run off midway through.
“Should be a fairly easy night,” Bex commented as she looked at the passenger manifest. “Neither flight is full.”
Christa nodded. “Good. I’m not in the mood for drama. Hopefully, everyone will sleep.”
Five minutes later, the passengers started boarding, and Christa put on her flight attendant face and greeted everyone as they boarded.
With the cabin half-full on the way to Los Angeles, Christa had an easy job of not only serving everyone but going back through to see if anyone needed a second drink or a snack. The flight was three hours long. Some nights, when it was packed, there wasn’t enough time to do more than make it down the aisle one time to serve and a few times to clean up.
After they landed in L.A. and everyone disembarked, Christa rubbed the back of her neck and yawned. “I seriously need to start getting more sleep,” she told Bex when they were alone.
Bex chuckled. “You need to get laid. That will help you sleep.”
“You say that like you regularly get laid yourself,” Christa challenged, grinning.
“Good point, but I’m not the one in love with a man I haven’t spoken to for almost two weeks.”
“I’m not in love with him,” Christa defended, though her words had no umph. Am I? Fuck. She knew she was.
Bex lifted her brows and continued moving down the aisle, picking up trash and making sure everything was back in place. They only had about thirty minutes between passengers deplaning and new ones boarding. On most nights, if all went smoothly and the weather didn’t hinder them, they landed a few minutes early and left on time. The weather was clear tonight, they’d landed ten minutes early, and the return flight was also half-empty.
By the time the second set of passengers started boarding, Christa once again had her friendly face in place and started greeting everyone.
It was a Saturday night. Weekdays, she could count on mostly businessmen. Weekends were a crapshoot. Usually, vacationers returning from overseas or California. They were often exhausted and sometimes crabby.
Tonight was no exception. Surly kids dragging behind their parents. Teenagers who just wanted to be left alone. A few women who looked like they’d been on a girls trip and had yet to recover from last night’s drinking. That group wouldn’t be ordering alcohol.
The flight loaded pretty quickly, and soon Christa was going over the manifest with the rest of the crew before shutting the door and preparing for takeoff.
It wasn’t until she was seated in the jumpseat next to Bex for takeoff that her friend leaned over and whispered, “Did you notice the four young girls traveling with the older man?”
Christa turned to face her. “No. Where are they?”
“Near the back. About six rows in front of us. Their seats are close but not all together. They don’t share last names. Get a good look at them. Maybe I’m just jumpy and overreacting.”
Christa furrowed her brow. “You think…”
Bex shrugged.
Christa’s heart rate picked up, and she kicked herself for not noticing before they were in the air. She’d been paying closer attention to her passengers than usual ever since the company had sent out that warning email, but she h
adn’t seen anything out of the ordinary.
It was such a difficult job. If she spotted someone suspicious and turned them in, she ran the risk of accusing someone falsely. Open Skies would say better to be safe than sorry, but it was still a difficult job.
“I’ll serve that section,” Christa declared.
“Good. Thanks. Please tell me I’m crazy.”
“Did they have bags?”
Bex shook her head. “No. Neither checked nor carry-on.”
“Shit,” Christa whispered. “Have you mentioned anything to Stacy or Kylie yet?” The other two attendants on this flight were seated at the front.
“No. I didn’t have an opportunity. I’ll pretend we need something from the front galley when we get up and inform them. I just feel…like I’m tattling on someone who didn’t do anything.”
“Except what if they’re in trouble and we ignore it?” Christa pointed out. “There’s an air marshal on board,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, that’s fucking good luck,” Bex muttered. “I won’t be able to approach him yet. Not until we’re more certain.”
Bex was right. The hairs on the back of Christa’s neck stood on end as the flight reached altitude, smoothed out, and the attendants could move around.
Bex made a beeline for the front of the plane without looking in either direction so she didn’t arouse suspicion.
Christa stood at the edge of the galley and took a mental catalog of the group of people Bex was referring to. There was a man seated in the aisle about six rows from the back. Two young girls in their mid-teens sat next to him. Across the aisle was another girl Christa guessed to be about fourteen. And behind her was a third girl near the same age.
The thing that stood out the most was that there were empty seats in both those rows, and yet neither of those girls had moved to sit together.
Could they be friends returning from a vacation in L.A.? Yes. This man could be traveling with his daughter and three of her friends. It was possible they were tired of each other and didn’t want to sit together. Or, maybe those two lone girls didn’t like each other to begin with.
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