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Perhaps she notices my disinterest, because she straightens immediately. But I accept the champagne, tipping it to my lips immediately to conceal my expression and my face in case Jordan wants to look over.
She's there again, standing in line, waiting for the other passengers to get their carry-on bags stowed in the overhead compartments and drop into their narrow, coach section seats.
The man behind her keeps shuffling up way too close, then smirking to himself and nodding. I don't like the way he's looking at her. Not one little bit. She doesn't even seem to notice that he manufactures some kind of physical impairment that has him hulking over her, practically collapsing on top of her.
As the plane begins to roll away from the gate and across the tarmac, I see the guy in the suit leering as he leans into the row, just beyond the blue curtain that separates first class from coach. He swings into the seat and I just know it. I just know that he's next to her. And I can tell from the look on his face exactly what he's planning.
“Excuse me, miss?” I ask the stewardess as she walks by. She turns back to face me. Her expression far less friendly than it was before.
“Oui?”
I withdraw a business card and hold it out to her.
“There is another passenger on this flight. Her name is Jordan Burke. Would you please give her this and ask her to join me? I reserved both these seats.”
The stewardess grips the back of the seat as the plane begins to take off, her eyes flickering nervously over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, sir, but the plane will be taking off in just a moment. I cannot —"
“You can,” I tell her simply. Of course she can. People only say “I can't” because they have been trained to do that.
In any case, she seems to understand that I am not going to take no for an answer, and she plucks the card from my fingers, nodding curtly with her lips pursed.
It doesn't take long. We’re only in the air for a minute or two when I feel her presence. Literally, I'm looking out the window, but I can feel her close to me.
I turn in my seat expecting to finally get the scolding I so richly deserve. She's going to be angry with me for leaving, for being here now, and for summoning her out of her seat like I own her.
But instead, she is smiling at me with gratitude or relief or something. A lock of hair falls in front of her face as the plane sways slightly, and she pushes it behind her ear.
“I believe you were in the wrong seat, darling,” I hear myself say like some kind of character in an old movie.
She smiles shyly and drops into the seat next to me. She's not angry? Whatever kind of luck this is, I'm happy to go along with it.
“How did you know?” she breathes. “I mean… It's like I just wished for you, and all of a sudden the flight attendant was handing me your card…”
She blinks, her eyes as wide and innocent as a child's.
“How did I know?” I repeat, trying not to let on how confused I am.
“Well, that guy, he was so creepy! Just hovering over me, trying to touch me, I think. You know what I mean?”
Hovering… Yes, I can see how that would be creepy, I scold myself, painfully aware that what he was doing is not completely unlike what I have also been doing by following her through the airport and buying her a seat without her knowledge.
“It's lucky that I saw you,” I tell her as she slides into the seat next to me.
“Oh, I'm probably just overreacting,” she says confidentially, her eyes a little shadowed with embarrassment. “I know I'm probably just paranoid, but I always feel like people are watching me. It's totally crazy, right? I mean… I just never feel like I really get any personal space.”
Tell her, I tell myself. Tell her now!
I know that I can't keep the truth from her for much longer, but I need to find the right time. Then again, is there ever really going to be a right time?
“I'm sure everyone feels that way sometimes,” I hear myself say and then instantly regret it. That was the perfect moment. I curse my cowardice.
“I'm sure you're right… Oh! What was that?”
Her eyes widen, and her fingers automatically gripped the armrest. Instinctually, I slide my hand under hers and cup it in mine, closing the other hand over it protectively.
“Some rain. Just a little turbulence. Everything is fine.”
