The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)(9)

“Maybe, but what if he has a massive gambling debt and needs the life insurance money to take care of his twelve children and handicapped wife?”

He blew out a suffering sigh. “Look, do you think it would make you feel better to know what those sounds are? I mean, if someone could assure that there is nothing to worry about?”

“I don’t know…” I snapped before sucking in a resigned breath. “Just…tell Levee I love her, okay?”

“Dear God,” he mumbled as his grip on my back disappeared.

I sat up with enough time to see him walk out of first class.





WITH MY BASEBALL cap pulled low over my eyes, I attempted to stretch my legs out in the three inches of space the airline had graciously allowed me. I would have given my left nut for a seat in the emergency exit row. The plane was packed, but I was biding my time, waiting for a chat with the flight attendant to see if I could schmooze my way into an open window seat. For a guy my size, being stuck in a middle seat, sandwiched between two other men, was only slightly above the seventh level of Hell. But I guessed, when the company buys you a ticket hours before takeoff, you get what you get.

I would have way rather been in the cockpit of my own plane, but I didn’t have time to wait around for the repairs to be made. I needed to get home and see if I could grab another flight for Jackson. Broken plane or not, a charter pilot didn’t get paid unless he actually flew. I needed the money. Part time was exactly as partially lucrative as it sounded.

“Need a favor, Roth.”

Pushing my hat up, I found Carter hunched over in the aisle and staring down at me.

“Sure. What’s up?”

After retrieving his wallet from his back pocket, he pushed some bills in my direction. “Two hundred bucks. Switch seats with me and talk him through takeoff.”

“I’m sorry. What?” I asked before glancing at the hairy guy to my left, who was clearly unaware that deodorant had been invented.

“He’s flipping out up there and, quite honestly, I don’t know what the hell to tell him. We need to get home. But, right now, either he’s going to get kicked off for acting like a maniac or I’m going to smother him with a six-inch courtesy pillow.” He stopped to give me a shrug that said he wasn’t kidding. “I’m thinking, if he had someone to explain what was going on, he could keep his shit together. If not, we’ll still have the pillow as a backup plan.”

My eyes slid to the men on either side of me before I popped my eyebrows in question. “You want to pay me two hundred bucks to move to first class?”

“No, I want to pay you two hundred bucks to talk bullshit about planes.”

I smirked then plucked the money from his hands. “What do you know—plane bullshit just happens to be my specialty.”

He backed up to allow me out of the row. “You have any experience in crisis negotiation?”

I tipped my head to the side. “Should I?”

He shrugged and clamped his hand on my shoulder. “Couldn’t hurt. Good luck up there.”

“Uh…thanks,” I said skeptically.

He seemed entirely too excited to squeeze his mammoth body into a tiny-ass economy seat.

Whatever. Better him than me.

He shared my feelings.

“Better you than me!” he called out with a laugh as I headed up front.

I got the feeling two hundred bucks, extra leg room, and free drinks weren’t going to be an upgrade at all.

And my suspicions were confirmed as I made my way through the magical curtain of opulence that divided first class from the commoners.

Yep. I’d been duped.

“I need a drink. Now!” Henry yelled.

Yes. Yelled.

“Sir, you’ve already had two and we haven’t even taken off yet,” the busty, redheaded flight attendant said as the other passengers watched on—a few snapping pictures with their cell phones.

“Which only makes my glass that much more empty.” He pushed to his feet, and if his glossed-over eyes were any indication, the last thing he needed was another drink.

“Hey. Hey. Hey.” I stepped in front of him before he had the chance to exit his row. Placing a hand on his chest, I gently pushed him back. “Let’s hold off on the drinks until we get in the air…and maybe back on the ground.”

His gaze menacingly drifted down to my hand. “Don’t f*cking touch me,” he whispered as his solid pec flexed against my palm.

I cocked a challenging eyebrow. “Not a problem as long as you sit down and stop acting like an entitled *.”

He held his ground and studied my face for a moment before yelling, “Carter!”

Yes. Yelled. Again.

Inches from my face.

In the middle of a plane loaded with passengers.

The sound echoed off the overhead bins, assaulting me repeatedly before fading away.

Clenching my teeth, I peeked over my shoulder at the nervous flight attendant and tossed her an encouraging grin. “Go ahead. I’ll take care of him. I swear.”

“You’ll take care of who?” Henry smarted.

I kept my attention on the flight attendant.

Her eyes flashed to mine for only a second before jumping back to Henry. “He can’t act like this. It’s disruptive for everyone.”