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“Jet! Those are mine.”
Her cheeks flush as she tries to grab the bottle back from me. I hold them out of her reach as I read the label.
“Sleeping tablets?”
“They’re herbal. I’ve used them before, it’s fine.”
She drains the rest of her champagne.
“Did you take more before those two?” She ignores me and I snap, “How many have you taken in total?”
“Enough that you won’t have to worry about making conversation with me until New York.” She snorts.
“Ava,” I growl.
Her eyes flick to mine. “Four.” She shrugs.
“Jesus Christ.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “And you’re mixing them with alcohol when we’re about to take off.”
As if to prove my point, the flight manager announces over the PA system for all ground personnel to leave the aircraft before the final door is closed.
The flight attendant retrieves Ava’s empty glass and reaches for my untouched one.
“Not thirsty, Mr. Grant?”
“Sorry, no.”
Ava grabs it and downs it, before handing it over with a wobbly smile. “Thanks.”
The flight attendant raises an eyebrow, grabs both the flutes, and walks away. Ava tips her head back, exhaling loudly.
“It’s fine, Jet. The pills are herbal.”
“So is cannabis. Are you going to whip a joint out next and smoke that?”
“Maybe… I can share it with you, loosen you up a bit.”
Her gaze darts around the cabin, her chest rising and falling in quickening breaths.
“Then where would the flags get flown?” I grumble, placing the pill bottle down onto the table.
She turns to me, her eyes raking over my stony expression. Then she laughs, clapping her hand over her mouth.
The aircraft jerks as it’s pushed back from its parking stand.
Ava’s laugh stops and she grips both the armrests again.
“Have you ever been on a plane before?”
“Yes. Plenty of times.” She’s staring out of the window at the pushback coordinator walking alongside the plane and talking to the pilots through his headset. Once we’re fully pushed back and lined up on the taxiway the pushback vehicle detaches from the front of the plane, and we begin to move forward.
I scroll through the document Hayden sent as we taxi to the runway and wait in line for take-off. A muttering breaks my train of thought. Ava’s eyes are screwed shut and she’s pressing her thumbs to the tipof each of her fingers one by one, counting from one to five over and over.
I abandon Hayden’s email and slide my phone into my pocket.
“I didn’t know you were scared of flying.”
“Because I never told you.”
