Grounded (Up in the Air #3)(45)
I wasn’t sure what the plan was when we walked as a crew out to the pickup spot. James, or rather, Cold Mr. Cavendish, hadn’t said. I figured if he sent a car, I’d take it, if not, I’d go to the hotel with the crew.
He had sent a car. In fact, he’d sent himself, I realized as he met me at the door, taking my bag and my arm without a word. His face was a beautiful mask, his eyes a little blank.
James nodded stiffly at Stephan. Stephan had to stay with the crew for the hotel check-in, so he kissed me on the forehead and said goodbye.
I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to anyone else since James was leading me away as soon as he had Stephan’s assumed blessing.
He handed my bags off to Clark, handing me into the car swiftly. My security detail filed into the car mere moments after James and I were settled. They’d been my silent shadow for the duration of my commute and workday.
“Bodyguards are unnecessary when I’m working, James,” I told him, my voice pitched low to keep the conversation private. “I’m quite safe at work.”
He looked at me. It was the first direct look he’d given me since he’d met me at the door. His face was as unreadable as I’d ever seen it. “I find it very necessary,” he said shortly.
He looked out the window.
I hated his mood, hated his distance, but it still made me want to cling to him. I knew how unhealthy that urge was, and I tried my best to squelch it. Still, I found my hand seeking his knee, rubbing it comfortingly.
It did not have the intended effect. His hand covered mine instantly, pushing it hard into his leg. I couldn’t have pulled it away if I’d tried.
“You in the mood to be pinned to the seat and f**ked with an audience, Love?” he said, his voice soft with danger.
I tried to snatch my hand away, but he held it fast. I didn’t answer the ridiculous question, and he didn’t say another word, looking out the window, a storm in his eyes.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” I finally asked him quietly.
He squeezed my hand, his jaw working. “Bear with me, Bianca. I am going through some rather trying legal issues, and letting you leave me every week tests every last ounce of my self-control.”
I was silent for a long time, debating if I should tell him about my decision. It seemed rather like rewarding his bad behavior just then, but I had already made up my mind. It just made sense, as much as I hadn’t wanted it to.
The voluntary furlough for flight attendants had already been announced. I’d received the email as we were taxiing into JFK. I had the seniority to keep working even if there weren’t enough people to sign up for the voluntary furlough and it became involuntary, but I saw that as such a selfish thing. I didn’t need the job, not as much as so many others did. Perhaps there had only ever been this solution, and the bankruptcy was just forcing my hand more quickly. I suspected that might be the case, but it didn’t really matter anymore.
“I’ll be taking the voluntary furlough,” I told him.
I saw his hand shake with a fine tremor. He didn’t look at me. I understood that he didn’t appreciate that we weren’t alone just then.
“Thank you,” he said very quietly, in an unsteady voice.
“I’m doing it because I feel ridiculous having more money spent to protect me at work than what I’m actually making. And because there are people that need the job more than I do,” I told him, my tone hard. This was not because of his tantrum. “And I would like to begin planning the gallery showing.”
He nodded, head still turned away. “Of course. Thank you. I’ll set up a meeting for you with Danika when we’re in Vegas. She manages both my L.A. and Las Vegas galleries. She went to bat against my New York team to get your work in her gallery. She’s quite a fan.”
I had a hard time believing that. The idea of having fans was too far-fetched of a concept for me to grasp easily.
We arrived at our place via the underground garage, and James walked me into the apartment and up to our room.
He watched me from the doorway of the closet as I got undressed for my nap.
“I can’t linger. I really do need to get back to the hotel, since I’ll be heading back to Las Vegas with you tomorrow.”
I just nodded, half undressed, my back to him. I felt him watching me for long minutes before he left.
I got ready for bed and lay down to sleep, but it eluded me for a long time. The way James was acting filled me with tension and anxiety. I tried to tell myself that he was just a moody and unpredictable man. That was one of the first things I’d learned about him. But I just knew, deep down in my gut, that it was something bad, something that he felt threatened him, or perhaps threatened us. He had told Roger to offer his entire fortune to protect from the mysterious threat, and I knew that he wouldn’t use those words lightly.
My phone woke me, and even as I answered it, I knew I’d overslept. I had that groggy feeling that I only got when I took too long of a nap.
“Buttercup, you coming out with us tonight?” Stephan asked.
I blinked awake. “Who is us? And where are you going?”
“The crew is going to Red with the other two crews that are here on a layover. They are driving into the city from the airport hotels. A few extra people are coming into town, as well. I talked Javier, Jessa, Marnie, and Judith into flying in for the night. Our morning flight has like thirty open seats, so they’ll have no problem flying home with us. It’s turned into a kind of bankruptcy party. I talked to James. He said that people could crash at your place, and at his hotel. He’s even setting up a VIP section at Red for us. He was supposed to tell you about it, but I guess you were sleeping.”