Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)(18)

Once she wasn’t in his force field, she regained her bearings and realized Louise was waving at her from behind the check-in counter. Oh crap.

“I need to go. The passenger I told you about is arriving.”

“I let you go take care of this, and in exchange you’re putting in for time off. Otherwise you’re going nowhere.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’d let me?”

He didn’t correct his words, remaining silent, his face inscrutable, his grip on her shoulders unshakable. Yeah, apparently he’d meant exactly what he’d said.

Damn, Elle wanted to hash this out now, but she couldn’t miss Aston Biggs. She had the moral duty to make his life as miserable as humanly possible, so she nodded curtly.

She had lots of accumulated extra hours, and with Tate out of Rosita’s, the workload at the restaurant was going to double. Maybe getting some time off at the airport wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

He released her and she hurried to the counter, Jack at her heels.

“What did this guy do to you?”

“To me? Nothing.”

Aston Biggs, famous Internet mogul, had thrown his weight around and used his name and influence with her supervisor to get a last-minute seat on a transatlantic flight that had been totally booked. Because of him, there was a domino effect of bumped passengers, and a woman who had a confirmed seat was left out. She hadn’t made it on time and her son had died alone in a hospital after an accident. All so that * could go have lunch in Paris or whatever it was pricks like him did there.

Elle hadn’t been working when that had happened, but she’d been there when the woman had been waiting for the next flight and had gotten the news of her son passing away.

She hadn’t been able to say her good-byes, so it had been Elle’s mission ever since to be at all his flights to stomp all over his rights.

“I hate bullies, and he’s the worse kind,” she answered. “The kind who can’t take what he himself dishes out. All talk, no walk. Because of him, someone missed something that she can’t ever get back.” And she knew very well what she was talking about.

“Why did he put a restraining order on you?”

“The guy has no sense of humor,” she muttered as they reached the counter.

Louise’s eyes were still wide. She gave Jack a once-over and whispered, “Elle, who is this?”

“Borg, Louise. Louise, Borg,” she introduced them.

“Oh. Good idea to get a bodyguard. Perfect intimidation technique. You never know when Biggs will snap.”

Elle hadn’t thought of it that way, but Louise was right. Not that Elle needed someone fighting her battles.

As always, Aston Biggs was fashionably late. He believed people of his stature weren’t supposed to be kept waiting, much less with commoners. His time was too valuable.

The little weasel scrunched his nose at the sight of her. “You. I don’t want her tending to my business,” he said to Louise.

Elle smiled widely and took a step away from the counter. She’d already tended to his business; she was there just to observe.

“I’m on this flight. Business class.” Even though it was an intercontinental flight, the bastard didn’t present any documentation. No passport. No e-ticket. As if everyone should know him.

“And you are?” Louise asked.

“Mr. Biggs. Aston Biggs, of course,” he spat, obviously not pleased.

Louise tapped on the keyboard. “Hmm, I’m sorry Mr. Biggs, but according to our system, you booked a seat in coach.”

“Impossible. I do not fly coach.”

He was today. Last row. Closest to the bathroom. Constant flow of people. Least legroom, loudest seats on the whole plane. Flanked by the two most robust passengers she’d found, whom she’d awarded several thousand bonus miles for the aggravation to have to put up with Biggs for eight hours.

“Sorry, sir. Nothing I can do. Check-in is all but closed. The business-class seats are taken, the boarding passes printed and handed out. If you would have come in earlier, maybe we could have—”

“I want your supervisor here. Now.”

“That would be me,” Elle said, her voice sugary. “You will have to take this up with your travel agent when you get back.”

“I want her supervisor,” Biggs yelled at Louise.

“We are very sorry for the misunderstanding, but there’s nothing he can do either. Boarding has started and unless you hurry to the gate, you’ll miss the plane,” Louise explained, handing him the boarding pass.

He ignored her and, after turning to Elle, took a step forward. “All this is your fault. You conniving little bi—”

She would have had no trouble beating the shit out of him; after all, she had the right to defend herself and the restraining order had expired, but before he could reach her, Jack intercepted him.

“You heard the lady. Get moving.”

Biggs wasn’t used to being talked to in that manner or addressed by someone looking like Jack, because he stammered a bit before answering. “And you are…?”

“Assaulting an airline agent is a very serious offense. I suggest you rethink it.”

“I have unfinished business with her.”

“No. Your business is finished. Get moving,” Jack repeated. His back was in front of her, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but she could guess by the tone of his voice his expression must have been frightening.