Page 31 of Mile High Heist

Sometimes, I couldn’t believe this was my life.

Peter was scrolling idly on his phone when I came up behind him. Then his screen went dark, and his eyes immediately clocked me in the reflection.

I didn’t falter.

The point was to be seen. He angled his phone slightly, as if wanting a better view of my approach. It wasn’t until I was a few steps away that he placed his phone face down on his tray table.

Giving me his full attention.

I stopped just in front of him, leaning slightly on the seat ahead. I cocked my hip and crossed my ankles. Those unsettling icy eyes roamed over me, lingering on every inch of exposed flesh.

“I’ve popped your briefcase above row 74. Just in case you needed it.”

Row 74 was Madoc’s row. Worst case, I sent one killer to another.

Peter hummed, looking up at me with his signature cocky grin. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course. I am at your service, sir.”

Gag.

Peter’s brow twitched up slightly, as if surprised by my boldness. Was I laying it on too thick? I’d never tried to seduce someone before. I’d never really needed to. I was cute, blonde, and approachable. My mother said it was a fleeting gift of youth. She was not-so-subtly conditioning me to settle down and get married before my looks faded and I had nothing left to offer.

If I had the personality of a bitter cow like her, I’d be worried, too.

“At my service?” Peter hummed, tilting his head. “Well, what else can you do for me?”

I twirled my ponytail around my finger. “What else would you like?”

“Tell me about yourself.”

My throat tightened slightly. But luckily, I’d rehearsed this.

“Well, I’m a Sagittarius,” I whispered, like it was groundbreaking information. “So I’m very optimistic, and I love learning new things.”

His right hand twitched on the tray. His gold ring made a small, unsettling tapping sound. It was oddly in tune with my rapid pulse.

To distract myself from the sound, I kept rambling: “I’m twenty-one, but I’ve been told I look younger. I think it’s my face.”

“It is,” Peter agreed, staring at my face. “Keep going.”

I swallowed nervously. My eyes tracked him discreetly; his hands, his pockets, looking for anything that was out-of-the-ordinary. “Uh, well, I was also voted most likely to win an Emmy in my yearbook. Not that I’m an actress, or anything. I just have that razzle dazzle personality.”

Kill me now. Peter laughed, like I’d spoken that last part aloud. His smile hadn’t changed, so I had no idea if he was buying it. I dragged my eyes over him with a flirtatious smile, as if I was checking him out.

No bulging pockets. Could he be hiding it in his shoe?

His watch caught my eye. Gold, expensive. The kind of watch my father liked.

In fact, it was exactly the kind of watch my father liked, right down to the model.

Just a coincidence, I told myself. There was no way he knew who I really was.

“Fascinating,” Peter said, and leaned toward me. “That was certainly an award-winning performance.”

My heart stopped.

I forced out a giggle. It sounded just a tad screechy. “What do you mean?”