Chapter 31

Over the next hour, the cabin simmers. Passengers return to their seats and employ their privacy flaps. Most are good and buzzed and pass out quietly.

My neck’s so rigid I have to keep rolling my shoulders, back and forth, back and forth. I manage to stay professional with the same passengers who one-starred me, but I steer clear of Val. The doggy incident delayed her prospect encounter—a hiccup of her own doing. But the fact she’s manipulating me like some kind of world class madam has me tenser than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I need her to pursue Quincy Rydell. And I need to get it on camera.

“Hey, I wanted to clear the air in case you misunderstood.” Val corners me in the galley wearing a sweet little frown. “It’s just that, I saw you forgetting your boundaries. I have to protect our status. Above all else.” Her frown shifts into a hopeful smile. “Forgive me?”

Oh, how I’d love to wipe that smirk off her face. But I need her to trust me. “Sure.”

“Great.” Val motions toward the lavatory door at the other end of the galley. It opens and closes. “Lookout time.” She whispers. “Prospect incoming.”

“Sure. Whatever you need.”

Her shift from sympathy to arrogance makes my stomach slosh.

“You’re my copilot, remember?” she adds with bat of her lashes. “I’m counting on you.”

“Okay.”

Val flashes a look of doubt. “Don’t be short. You’ll get your chance too. Still plenty of time. After me.”

Just leave already.

“Go,” I say. “Do your thing. I’m good.”

Val steps toward me, hovers at my side. I back up toward the jump-seat. “You know… you could warm him up for me. I’m sure he wouldn’t object if I send you in first. Just leave him on the verge. Hand, mouth, etcetera. I don’t usually like to share, but I suppose it’s the least I can do.”

I’m pretty sure my face is pinched up like a feline behind. “No thanks. I’m good.”

She holds my stare for a moment longer than necessary and that makes my neck hives flare up. “Then make a plan or else you’ll miss your shot.”

Val turns all huffy-like and heads for the lavatory in the hall. Eclipsed by the galley wall, she hovers at the door a moment, then enters.

Bleh, how did I ever think we were friends?

I do a quick cabin pass-through. Quincy’s not in his seat. Circumstances are lining up nicely. It’s now or never. I need the perfect vantage point to record Val and Quincy both leaving the lavatory, on the same video…

Or.

I approach the lavatory door, my phone at my middle, poised and ready to record. A few ragged breaths leave my lips and nostrils.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

The code. Four knocks to indicate something’s wrong.

My heartbeat accelerates. Moving my phone to my hip, I angle it. Still recording. I step to the side of the door and wait. After a moment, the door clicks and creaks open. Val’s hazel eye peeks out.

I motion toward the flight deck. “Captain wants to speak to you right away. Something about the incident report.”

Wide-eyed, Val slips out in her skirt and blouse, both rumpled, but in place, her brow furrowed, cheeks flushed. She scans the area. The door clicks shut behind her.

I inch my phone out farther from behind my skirt. “Better hurry,” I whisper.

Val pivots, smooths out her skirt, and heads for the front of the cabin.

Still recording.

I rap on the lavatory door: one knock, pause, then two fast knocks. Code for, I’m coming in. Assuming Val shared that with Quincy.

Click. The door unlocks.

My pulse racing, I open the door and angle my phone.

Bare-chested with beautiful brown abs, Quincy’s grin fades to confusion. His hands freeze on his belt buckle.

Yep, I know the feeling, buddy.

“Oh, sorry!” I say, feigning surprise of my own.

I fold the door shut and back away, just in time to meet eyes with Val. Her former wide-eyed gaze falls into a suspicious squint. She glances at my hand, my phone.

Aw, hell.

Forcing my hand behind my back, I head to the other end of the galley, out the other side. Down the opposite aisle of first class, toward the flight deck. I all but trot to the forward-most lavatory. It’s vacant and I slip inside, lock the door.

Alone at last, my heart hammers at my ribs.

I stop the video that’s still recording. Please tell me I got it all. If I don’t, I’m done for. Val will never let this slide.

But the video plays and though the very bottom corner of the recording shows a small blur of my gray uniform, the remainder of the screen captures everything: Val’s face, her flushed cheeks as she steps down the aisle, my knock at the same door, and Quincy’s caught-in-the-act puzzlement inside the lavatory—even Val’s hurried return. All in the matter of about one minute, thirty seconds. Pure gold. Exactly what I need.

Collateral.

I return to the galley where Val chats with Quincy near the lavatory. She notices me and beelines right for me, “We need to talk.”

Quincy exits. I square my shoulders, ready to throw down. Val moves a hand to her hip. She means business. Good. I can’t wait to hear what she has to say.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she says, peering down her nose.

I’d love to play coy and egg on the dramatics just to ruffle her peacock plumes, but I’m over it—over her.

“I did what I had to do,” I say.

Val rolls her eyes. “Spare me the heroics and let’s talk this out.”

“By all means. I think an exchange is in order.”

She clutches my elbow and leans in at my ear. “Listen to me. You do not want to do this. The damage can be repaired, but we have to come to an agreement. We’re supposed to be a team.”

She’s not on the same page yet. “What kind of agreement?”

“Quincy is willing to rate you five stars, and have his bodyguard do the same. That should balance out your score from the dog episode, and you’ll still have a chance with 8K.”

“That’s nice of him.”

“And in exchange,” Val’s voice is barely a whisper, “you’ll delete that video right now, while I watch.”

She’s worried, but she’s covering it up. She always did have her emotions mastered in a way I never could. But she’s got a screw loose if she thinks I’m giving up my advantage. The powers have shifted, Miss Valentina. I’m tired of being manipulated.

“Actually,” I say, my voice flat and eerily cool, “this is what we’re gonna do. Everything you just said, plus you’re going to delete the recording you have of me.”

For once, Val’s beauty and glamour have disappeared, replaced by a grisly truth of desperation that’s not becoming on her at all.

“And then you can call my manager and tell her you decided on another recruit,” I add. “I’m done with FC, done with your team. Checkmate.”