Page 6 of The Layover

She looked between it and me as if she didn’t quite understand. “I don’t…”

“Please.” My voice was firm.

She nodded and handed me the device.

I pressed the Send button, and whistled sharply. The high-pitched sound split the air, and the bulk of people shut their mouths in favor of looking around for the source. Now most of the plane was looking at me.

Not my favorite thing, but I knew exactly what they saw—a large, casually dressed man who looked like I had zero fucks to give. I was imposing, and when I spoke, many of them would hear the accent and draw conclusions.

“The captain has kept you apprised of the situation.” I let a hint of menace slide into my voice. “The crew needs to do their jobs, and can’t answer your questions. When we land, you will be taken care of.” I was only repeating what had already been said, but if even a fraction of people drew their own conclusions about what the large Italian man meant by taken care of, things would be quieter.

The noise started again, but not nearly as much of it. I handed the woman the receiver, gave her a brief nod, and returned to my seat.

A glance at Lee as I passed showed she was watching me with amusement. She didn’t try to hide her smirk when I met her gaze.

I slid in next to Raul again, and he squeezed my knee. “You’re sexy when you go all gruff-mafioso,” he teased.

“I know.”

After some circling and frequent updates from the crew, we landed and disembarked. The pack in front of every desk in the airport was dense, as people clambered to figure out what they were supposed to do next.

“If we pick a line, we’ll be here all night,” I said. But if we didn’t, who knew how long we’d be stuck here? We could afford to lose a day, though I hated to take so long to get back to our daughter, but much longer and we’d cut into our work schedule.

Raul nodded. “I’ll make some calls.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, but paused without dialing, his gaze falling on something behind me.

I turned to see Lee approaching, a faint smile on her full lips. How often did she wear a look like that? The kind of expression that said she knew and saw more than she was letting on.

“Nick, right?” She stopped next to us.

I stopped myself from looking around, to figure out who she was talking to. Nick—short for Dominic, my middle name. I hated when Raul did that. “That’s me.”

“In case no one else said so, or even if they did, nicely done on the plane.” She sounded sincere.

I didn’t care if anyone besides Raul had an opinion about the things I did, but hearing Lee’s words warmed me. “Thank you. I hate seeing a situation deteriorate that way.”

She chewed her bottom lip, biting the plump flesh into a swell I wanted to nip at, and took a step back. “Anyway, I’ll let the two of you be.” Despite the words, she didn’t turn away.

Was her demeanor different from on the plane? If so, it was subtle. I could be reading too much into the situation.

“Wait,” Raul said, despite the fact that she hadn’t left. “We got off on the wrong foot earlier.”

“Because I turned you down?” There was the Lee from First Class.

Raul chuckled. “Because you didn’t want to.”

No. Really. I’d married an asshole. “She gets it, principe. You’re pushy.”

Lee’s smile grew as she ducked her head. When she looked up again, her mostly blank expression had returned. She focused on me. “Do you not have a problem with him hitting on me?”

“I have a problem with it if you do.” I shrugged. “Otherwise, no. We’re very European in our relationship.”

She furrowed her brow. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I was hoping you did, because I don’t, but we hear it from a lot of Americans,” I teased.

“Essentially, anything goes as long as everybody agrees.” Raul put it much more directly and clearly than I had.

Lee’s not-quite smile was back. “Listen, I don’t know if the two of you have made arrangements for the night, but I have a hotel room already, if you’re interested.”

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