Page 50 of Mile High Ruin

I straighten. “Captain.”

His mouth curves in that slow, unpleasant way I remember too well. “I was beginning to think private aviation scared you off.”

“No.”

“Good.” The word carries more meaning than it should.

Camille’s attention shifts toward us, and I’m grateful for it because Hale seems to notice her watching and changes his posture slightly, becoming more professional without actually moving away.

“Everything ready?”

“Almost,” Camille says.

He nods and looks at me again. “You settling in better this time?”

“Yes.”

“That first flight was a little eventful.”

I hold his gaze. “So I recall.”

For one moment, something passes through his expression. It’s not embarrassment, certainly not apology. Something closer to resentment.

Then the copilot calls his name from inside the cockpit and Hale steps back. “We’ll talk later.”

I keep my face blank. “No need.”

He stares at me for half a second before turning away.

The cockpit door closes behind him. Only then do I realize my shoulders have tightened.

Camille exhales quietly. “I didn’t know he was on this rotation.”

“Neither did I.”

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

The answer comes automatically, and Camille looks at me long enough that I know she doesn’t believe it completely. I don’t blame her.

I tell myself Hale is only the captain. I’m not alone with him.

Camille is here. There are other crew members. There will be passengers.

He has done nothing yet.

That last word bothers me.

Yet.

I turn away before the thought can develop further and continue preparing the cabin. The work helps. It always does. There’s comfort in routine, even inside aircraft that cost more than entire buildings, because glasses still need polishing, linen still needs arranging, temperatures still need checking, and passengers still expect everything to appear effortless no matter what’s happening behind the galley curtain.

I’m setting out the final service items when I notice something on the forward crew seat.

A small box.

I stop. It’s dark brown, wrapped with a narrow gold ribbon and placed exactly in the center of the cushion. For a moment, I assume it belongs to Camille. Then I notice the small folded card tucked beneath the ribbon.