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And then he walked off toward the suite.
She opened her mouth to explain what had happened.
James spoke before she could. “If you think you can sleep your way to better pay, you might want to reconsider.”
Ouch.
The verbal slap made her swallow the words. Already shocked by Ryan’s advances, her dismay grew.
Really? James was automatically labeling her the ladder-climbing company whore?
While she didn’t want to believe it, it was clearly the case. It showed in his stiff posture and tightly compressed lips. And the gaze filled with judgement and fury wasn’t aimed at Ryan. This on-brand James hostility was all for her.
And because she was so sickened by what had just happened with Ryan, she welcomed the familiarity of it.
She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s really amazing how quickly you think the worst of me.”
“I mean, I don’t want to, but I know what I just saw. Is this the way you do things, Tori? I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Her stomach sank further with disappointment.
“It’s not such a bad deal, right?” It was a stupid reply, but his lack of faith or respect for her hurt. “I mean, at least he’s attractive. Though going on the personality, probably not so good in bed.”
The words came up like vomit. The need to strike back and hurt him like he’d hurt her. Though that would’ve meant he cared for her, and everyone knew what a joke that was.
And yet he looked stricken, his face paling. Just as quickly, he recovered, and his eyes were like ice.
“Oh, Tori. I’m sure you’ve gotten pretty good at closing your eyes and thinking of England.”
Oh damn.
She didn’t think he had it in him to deal such a low blow, but there it was.
“I’m sure I have.”
She pushed away from the wall, leaving him to bask in his own self-righteous morality while she headed back to the suite.
*
“Could I getanother one of those gin and tonics?”
“Of course.”
James flashed a tight smile to the flight attendant as she went to grab the alcohol.
Usually, he wasn’t one to fly first class, but after the Mariners game last night, he’d upgraded when he’d learned there was a spot open on his short flight to Idaho.
The free alcohol alone made it worth it.
“Here you are, James.” The flight attended—Stella, was it?—set down the tiny bottle of gin and a can of tonic water for him to make the drink.
It was nice how Stella had made it a point to learn everyone’s name in first class. Or maybe that was just how they did things now?
Was Stella—who appeared to be a sweet lady in her fifties—judging him right now? Knocking back his second drink on a flight that was less than an hour and a half?
Shit, he needed it.
He mixed the drinks together, took a sip, and closed his eyes. Then immediately regretted it.
