Page 30 of Miss Treated

Kelsey

Dominic had gone out of his way to make things comfortable after my text telling him no to a date. I was relieved things were back to normal. The type of normal where every time I was around him, I got butterflies. He, on the other hand, showed absolutely no sign of being the worse for wear and acted like he’d never been interested.

I should have been relieved he hadn’t pushed or made a big deal out of me saying no. But instead, I found myself—what? Disappointed. Ugh. I didn’t get to have it both ways. At any rate, I was positive he’d moved on to the next girl in line in his massive black book.

On Wednesday morning, we took our seats in first class, three rows into the large plane. Flying to New York conjured up an entire host of emotions since it would be my first time returning to the city since leaving Joel. Logically, the chances of seeing him in a city of eight million was a fraction of a percent, but I still found myself on edge.

Perhaps traveling back to New York could provide some closure for me. I would be able to face my memories and recognize they no longer had power over me. Here was hoping it would work.

“Champagne?” asked the flight attendant.

“Two, please,” Dominic ordered. He’d politely offered me the window seat, but ordering for me like this rubbed me the wrong way. Joel used to order for me too, taking away my voice and my choice.

“Actually, no. I’d prefer water, thank you,” I told the woman.

He quirked a brow. “They’re both for me.” He took the two glasses from the flight attendant, who was obvious in checking out his left hand and then mine in search of rings. When she didn’t see any, she smiled at Dominic and barely glanced in my direction when she plunked down the water bottle.

“You be sure to let me know if you need anything else.”

He merely smiled. “Thank you.”

“Leslie. My name is Leslie.”

“Thank you, Leslie.”

As soon as she moved on, I bit my tongue, but not hard enough. “Is there a woman alive who doesn’t flirt with you?” I could blame my uncharacteristic bitchiness on my edginess in having to return to New York City. But honestly it was jealousy.

He chuckled, the husky sound causing a shiver to snake down my spine. “Yes, in fact, the woman sitting beside me. It’s been hell on my ego.”

My lips quirked up in a smile. “I very much doubt your ego noticed.”

He leaned in, his breath close to my ear. “I’m secretly devastated.”

“I bet you are.” Even when he was cocky, he was charming. I had to remind myself it was safer, both for my career and my heart, to think of him as a work colleague and nothing more.

While the plane filled up, Dominic downed both his glasses of champagne. After, he started squirming in his seat.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nope, everything’s fine.” He signaled the flight attendant, who was all too happy to skip over. “Can I get a bourbon on the rocks, please?”

“Of course.”

“Are you all right?” I didn’t want to judge, but I hadn’t taken Dominic for a heavy drinker, especially not at nine o’clock in the morning.

He turned, looking paler than normal. “I’m kind of a nervous flier.”

“You are?” I couldn’t help feeling skeptical as he seemed immune to all forms of weakness.

“Yep.” He took the glass of bourbon and sipped it, his jaw tense.

Holy crap. He wasn’t kidding; his entire body was on edge. But it didn’t make sense. “Don’t you travel quite a bit?”

“More than I care to.”

When the cabin door closed, and the plane started rolling back, his hand gripped the glass so tightly I worried it might break.

“What do you typically do to cope?”