Page 22 of Just Like You
She slammed the door.
I picked up the phone and dialled her desk.
“What,” she barked. Maura in a nutshell.
“Appreciated,” I said, almost tenderly.
“Wherever you’re going, I’m running low on Malt whiskey. I only like thirty-year-old Lagavulin.”
“I will look,” I promised.
“You will pre-order with your airline of choice and pick it up on the return sector. Delivered straight to your seat. Sometimes, Kieron, I wonder which planet you live on. Do you not know these things?”
“I do.” I smiled. “And your wish is my command.”
“I’m glad you are aware of that fact.” She slammed the phone down.
Maura. I liked her. Despite the blackmailing and threats, the fact was that she had my back. I hadn’t had that in a long time, and I suppose it was another sign that I was growing old. I needed someone to have my back. Someone who didn’t just take take take…
My phone went again, and I picked it up, barking out a yup into the receiver.
“Babes.” Gina. Okay.
“Hey,” I said.
“I have an event. Wednesday night, I need you. I will have Charlie courier over a suit, and you need a decent timepiece and we’re looking at slick hair. Can you do that?”
I scribbled it down because no, I wouldn’t remember, but I was sure Gina would again remind me.
“Suppose.”
“A little enthusiasm goes a long way, babes.”
“How did the surgery go?”
“Boobs are sore as fuck, but they will look stunning in the dress I’ll be wearing. I’m the ambassador of the brand, you know. Need to flaunt that look.”
I knew full well the look she was about to flaunt. More skin than thread, all on display, whilst I would be standing there like a mannequin with a glass of champagne in my hand.
I’d done worse events. And yes. Gina.
“I’ll text you.” She hung up.
She made me calm, but just for a moment, because here was my airline confirmation sliding into my inbox, and suddenly that unease in my stomach was back with a vengeance.
Chapter Seven
Julian
Perhaps I should have been nervous, but strangely I wasn’t. A crew member bringing someone with them on a trip was a normal occurrence, and we had five extra people for this trip, affectionately known as cling-ons. Friends, family, kids, coming along for the ride, with the promise of a cheap holiday in a place they’d normally never be able to afford to visit.
I didn’t mention my involuntary one because I didn’t want to endure the shame of having to own up if he didn’t turn up. Instead, I discreetly had words with my Captain, informing him that Imight have a friend joining me, but that he was running behind and might not make it.
Little white lies. But also saved my arse, being under-planned and not communicating with my team. Damn it. This was messy. Messy as anything.
I’d also sent off a message to the hotel, advising on a guest and that I needed an extra space on the transfer boat… that I might not need. Kieron might be completely gaslighting me here for all I knew, and anyway. A ticket to the Maldives would be spare change for this guy. Remember? He had some timepieces that would have paid off my mortgage in one go. No doubt a big-money earner.
Still? He was… I couldn’t even describe him. The kind of guy I would never ever go for. I didn’t like arseholes. I silently screamed in frustration as I once again rolled my luggage onto another plane, exchanged pleasantries and information with the team around me and then gracefully took my place by the door, my iPad at the ready. Let’s do this.
