Page 37 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

I opened my eyes to find Rhett across the aisle, looking at me with an expression that might have been amusement. Of course he would notice my pathetic display of terror.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to meet his gaze despite the fact that we were still climbing and every instinct in my body was screaming that we were all going to die. “Different kind of pressure.”

“Apparently.”

The casual dismissal in his tone made something snap inside me. Here I was, having what was probably a full-blown panic attack, and he was using it as another opportunity to make me feel small and inadequate.

Fine. If that’s how he wanted to play this game, so be it.

I had six restaurants and three weeks to prove myself. Six opportunities to show him and everyone else that I wasn’t just some lucky amateur who’d gotten in over her head. Six chances to make a name for myself in an industry that ate people alive if they weren’t strong enough to fight back.

Rhett Voss thought I was just a scared little girl who couldn’t handle the pressure? He was about to learn exactly how wrong he was.

Step aside for prodigy Clementine Hartley.

The plane leveled out, and I forced myself to relax my grip on the armrests. My heart was still hammering, but now it was as much from determination as fear. I had work to do, skills to prove, and a reputation to build.

I was going to start in Miami.

The seatbelt sign dinged off. My heartbeat started to slow and my muscles unclenched. I watched as passengers around me immediately unbuckled and pulled out laptops and tablets.

But I kept my seatbelt firmly fastened. I told myself it was just being cautious. Turbulence could happen at any moment, right? The flight attendants always said to keep your seatbelt on when seated. I was just being a responsible passenger.

The truth was, I felt safer with it on. Like that thin strip of fabric could somehow protect me from the fact that we were currently suspended thirty thousand feet above the ground in what was essentially a flying tin can.

“You planning to stay strapped in for the entire flight?”

I looked over to find Rhett watching me with those dark eyes. He had reclined his seat and looked completely relaxed, like flying was as natural to him as breathing. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed, hands folded behind his head. He looked like he was lounging in his own living room.

“Why does it concern you?” I shot back.

He smirked. “It doesn’t. You do you, little Clementine.”

I rolled my eyes. “As if I would do anyone else.”

That earned an eyebrow raise.

Shit.

Did he think I was referring to sex?

Of course he did and that was why he smirked again before winking at me.

It was going to be a long tour.