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“Relax and enjoy your flight,” the copilot says, offering a small smile. “We'll be taking off momentarily.”
My fingers start to nervously drum on the armrest.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
“Great. Bad flyer?”
I turn toward Paxton. “Oh, now you want to speak with me?”
He adjusts in his seat to face me. “Want to?” His head shakes. “No.”
“Then why bother?” I fix my attention out the window beside Paxton, watching the building pass as the plane drives toward the main runway.
“Because you're liable to break something with the way you're fidgeting. The last thing I need right now is explaining to the studio why their plane is damaged and the lead actress's agent is bleeding when we land.”
“Exaggerate much?” Despite my words, the rhythm of my fingers picks up as the plane takes off.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Hardly,” he mutters, and I pull my gaze away from the window and find that he's staring at my hand.
I let out a long-drawn-out sigh. “It's not that I'm afraid of flying. I'm just afraid of flying in a plane this small.” I motion around.
“It's just like flying in any other plane.”
“Hardly. The wind could blow this thing down if it's too forceful.”
My fingers frantically tap on the armrest as we lift into the air. If anything is going to happen, it will happen now. Most plane crashes occur at takeoff. Or is it landing? I have no clue.
“Have you ever flown private before?”
I shake my head, and the plane chooses that exact moment to wobble around the sky.
Tap. Tap. “It's just a cloud,” Paxton says. “So Daddy dearest never took you on the company plane?”
Inhale. Exhale. Everything is okay. “Not that it's any of your business, but no.”
Tap.
“Any particular reason?”
Tap.
“No. Again, that’s not any of your business.”
“You're a child.”
Tap.
“Sure am.”
Tap.
“I promise you . . . you're safe.” His tone is gentler than ever, and his brows are pinched when I look at him.
Is he worried about me?
“And I should believe you, why?” I level him with a hard stare.
“Don't. Doesn't make a damn bit of difference to me what you do, princess.”
Arrogant jerk.
4
Paxton
@Stargossip: We might focus on the stars, but can we all agree that Paxton Ramsey, agent to the stars, is smokin' hot??
@Spankmedaddy: I'd let him paddle me . . .
@Hotboysofsummer: Hells yeah! The man is FIRE!
@Sophisticateddreamer: This is gross. Just stop!
@Deathtothesystem: He's a douche from what I hear.
She’s driving me crazy.
Despite me telling her that she has nothing to fear, her fingers still relentlessly drum on the surface of the armrest.
Usually, I consider myself a rather patient person.
I'm also empathic.
But with this woman, all bets are off.
I don't know how much longer I can put up with her.
Unfortunately, I have no choice. It's just my luck that I'd be forced to share air with Apate, the goddess of fraud, deceit, and trickery.
The worst part: I can't even drown out her sounds.
Like a world-class idiot, I forgot my noise-canceling headphones, which would've been the perfect solution to this annoying part of what's sure to be an awful trip.
This is new territory for me. I'm the fun guy. The life of the party, who doesn't take myself too seriously. She brings out something in me that puts the D in dick. I can't help but push her buttons and make her squirm.
Not like she doesn't deserve it.
Taking a deep breath, I pretend she's not here . . . because that's mature.
I pull out my laptop and queue up some documents I need to review. It's not an easy feat as the plane sways, but I manage to get through one and begin the next.
I'm unsure how much time passes, but the ride gets progressively bumpier. The plane dips with turbulence, and the drumming of Mallory's fingers intensifies.
Princess needs to relax.
Her words still amaze me. Knowing who her father is, I find it strange that this is her first time on a private plane.
I'm well-versed in his company. They have a corporate jet, and he and his agents constantly fly to meet his clients. It's one of the perks new agents who get hired boast about.
Since everyone knows she’ll eventually take over for him, I would've assumed she'd traveled by that jet numerous times. Has she not gone along with him to meetings in the past? Apparently, not by his plane. There’s no way she can fake her fear.
She's sucking in big gasps of oxygen, sounding on the verge of hyperventilating. One hand continues to tap while the other clenches with white knuckles. I really . . . really don't want to make small talk with the woman, but it's against my nature to allow someone so scared to practically collapse with fear.
“Do you always get this worked up when you fly?”
“No. I mean . . . maybe?”
This girl will be the death of me. “It's either a yes or a no.”
“Not everything is black and white, Paxton,” she bites back, voice cracking on a screech as the plane tilts a bit.
