Page 24 of Passenger Princess

“Yes, Ava. You look very pretty.”

She moves, heels clicking as she walks to the full-length mirror and takes herself in.

“Hmm,” she says, turning left, then right in the mirror. “Not good.”

“Not good?”

“Not the vibe I’m going for.”

“This seems like your exact vibe, Ava.”

“On your arm, I’m going for hot, big guy, not pretty.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before speaking. “You’re not going to this event on my arm, Ava.”

She rolls her eyes at me, and I think about all those mothers who tell their kids if they keep doing it, their eyes will get stuck that way. I hope they never meet Ava Bordeaux, irrefutable proof that’s a fucking lie, considering it seems she does it every five seconds in my presence.

“Okay, listen, we have to have a talk about this bullshit,” she says, standing in front of me, face fierce, hands on her hips, and glaring up at me.

It takes everything in me to fight the smile because, fuck, she looks adorable like that, like an angry pixie. I bet if she put on the costume, she’d look like a dead ringer for Tinkerbell.

Instead, I raise an eyebrow in ago-onway and wait for her to continue.

“I don’t care how this job normally works for you. I don’t care if you normally just sit in the shadows on the lookout. That’s not howIroll. I already told you you’re not following me around for three months like a creep. You're not sitting in a corner when we eat meals. You’re going to have a fun summer, too, do the fun stuff with me.” She stops, thinking, before adding more. “Maybe thinkof yourself as my companion more than anything. You’re here to keep me safe, yes, but also to keep me company. Be my friend.”

"That's not how this job works, Princess,” I say as soon as she’s done with her tirade. “I know what I signed up for, and that’s not it.”

“Well, you better prepare for something new and different.”

“My boss pays me well to be invisible. Clients want it, and I promise it’s what you want.”

Something in her face changes in the blink of an eye, going from joking and assertive to self-conscious and nervous.

“Look, Jaime. I got into this by accident. This isn’t some goal I’ve had in my life. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s an adventure, and I’m so excited to be here. I love to travel, love to see new things, so gettingpaidto do it is absolutely insane and crazy and fun. But I’m going to be lonely. I also don’t really knowany ofthese people. At all of the events before the actual pageant, I was the odd man out because all these girls knew each other ahead of time; they’d been in these pageants together for years. I didn’t know a single one of them. Having someone—anyone—that I know and can talk to when it gets weird would really make me feel a lot better.”

The sincerity in her face cracks something in me, as does the pleading in her voice that, against my best judgment, I give her an offer. “You get nervous, you feel uncomfortable, you come back and hang with me until you’re ready to go back, okay?"

“Great, appreciate that, really, I do, but again, I’m not having you sit in the corner like the hired help while I eat or have fun. That’s weird as fuck and makes me itchy."

“Ava, my boss would never approve?—”

“Let me talk to him,” she says.

My brows furrow, and her face has somehow become even more determined and stubborn. “What?”

Her hand goes out like she is asking for something. “Give me your phone; I’ll call your boss and talk to him.”

“No,” I say firmly. She isnottalking to Greg. The man will eather alive.

“What’s he going to do, bite? I just want to talk to him, explain my side. If he insists you’re not allowed to hang with me, I’ll accept it. I’m a pain in the ass and pushy, but I wouldn’t put your job at stake,” she says, like it’s obvious.

I weigh my options for a moment in my head before shrugging, unlocking my phone, and handing it to her. “His name’s Greg. Probably my last call.”

“God, your phone is so boring. You don’t even have fun apps or a background," she says with horror, then taps the contacts icon and finds Greg easily. “And there’s only like five contacts in here.”

“Can we stop hyperanalyzing my phone and just call my boss so we can get to dinner?”

She smiles wide before hitting call and lifting the phone to her ear. It rings for just a moment before she smiles again.

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