Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(61)

Stephan found us still laughing when he burst in the door, breathless. He pointed at James. “That was mean. You had me scared to death that she’d disappeared, and here you are, laughing and joking, and not bothering to call the search off.”

“My bad,” James said, still laughing. It must have been that tension relieving type of laughter, because I couldn’t stop mine either.

“What’s so funny?” Stephan asked, his face breaking into a smile at our delirious laughter. He was always quick to shake things off.

“Melissa blew a sixty-year old for a handbag,” I gasped out. I knew it was bitchy to repeat what she’d said, but it was Stephan, and I just didn’t care anymore about being a bitch where she was concerned.

His brows shot up, his grin widening. “That’s hardly surprising, but I may turn you saying that into my ringtone.”

“Why?” I asked him.

“Because I can’t imagine a time of day where I would hear you saying something like that and not smile. So, did you two finally have it out?”

I nodded, still trying to hold in my helpless laughter. “She thought I was a gold-digger like her, just being sneaky about it. It insulted her oh-so refined sensibilities. I called her a spoiled little brat and a handbag whore.”

That made Stephan laugh as hard as James and I. “Oh God,” Stephan gasped. “I love that you said that to her. She had it coming.”

We rejoined the party, and I felt more relaxed after the strange little confrontation. I hadn’t imagined that having it out with Melissa would actually turn out to be a tension reliever for me. Maybe I needed to do that more often.

We didn’t tell our other friends about Melissa’s little confession. That would have felt like petty, mean gossip, even if it were the truth. Melissa’s character spoke for itself. I didn’t need to be its messenger.





[page]CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Mr. Distant





James came home from working on Wednesday strangely tense and quiet. He was intense as he made love to me that night, his eyes full of…something. I couldn’t identify it, but it worried me. And going to bed without him ever clearing it up worried me even more.

My worry didn’t let up the next morning when I woke to find him turned away from me. He was nude, a whisper of a sheet playing low on one dusky hip. Even concerned, I had to admire that sleek play of muscle along his naked side. I never got to see this side of him. I stroked his hip with a hand.

He flinched away, still sound asleep.

My first instinct was to back off, to give him space. I could well understand the need for space. But I was beginning to understand him well enough to know that space wasn’t what he wanted, or even what he needed.

I pressed my body against his back, rubbing my hand over that sexy golden hip. I nuzzled into his neck.

He stiffened, then relaxed against my touch. “Bianca,” he moaned. I had to check again to see if he was sleeping. He was.

“Bianca,” he said again in a rough whisper. “Stay, Bianca, stay. Please.”

I stroked his hip and kissed his neck. “I’m not going anywhere, Love,” I told him reassuringly.

That seemed to help. He relaxed against me and I hugged his back and burrowed into him. It was an hour before he had to wake up, so I drifted off again, still clutching him.

When I awoke again two hours later, James was long gone.

I worked that night, flying to JFK for our usual layover, James occupying his customary seat in 2D. He’d come to the airport directly from his casino, so we didn’t even get to see each other before the flight.

He seemed fine, just a little quiet and reserved.

It was a full flight, and he was asleep before I’d finished my service. I stewed about it, worried about him and his mood swings.

“The crew is going shopping tomorrow,” Stephan was telling me. “Canal Street.” Canal Street was the designer knock-off capital of the U.S. Every crew we’d ever worked with made at least one trip a month there. “You up for it?”

We were eating our crew meals in the galley. I shook my head, chewing and swallowing my food before I answered. “No thanks.”

I had other plans tomorrow, plans that made me nervous and gave me a whole other reason to stew.

He didn’t ask me about what I did plan, and I was relieved. I wouldn’t have had the heart to lie to him, even knowing that he wouldn’t like what I’d decided to do. In fact, he’d dislike it so much that I thought he might even try to interfere. Him not asking made the whole thing much easier for me.

James made it easier on me, as well, when we got to New York. He had the driver drop him off directly at his hotel, rather than going home for a nap.

“There are a lot of things I need to attend to today. I have to get to work right away,” he explained.

“Do you want me to come have lunch with you?” I asked him. “I’m flexible. Just name the time.”

He just shook his head, his face unreadable. “Not today,” he said. That was all.

It was when he just gave me a brief kiss on the forehead, not even looking at me before he got out of the car, that I knew for certain that something was wrong. This wasn’t just a mood.

I tried to take a nap back at our place, but it was no good. I was upset and nervous and out of sorts. Best to just get it over with. Perhaps it could even distract me, for a time, from dwelling on James.