Page 75 of Shared By the Pilots

“Oh no!” I said, covering my mouth with my hands. “That sounded expensive.”

Broussard let out a low growl and unzipped the suitcase on the ground. One of the bottles had smashed, spreading a pool of tequila on the ground. Broussard’s shoes and the cuff of his pants were also soaked. But the other bottles were still intact.

“Here, let me help,” I said, crouching down.

“NO.” Broussard’s voice was like a whip as he pushed me away. “You have done quite enough.”

“What’s going on here?” Luke suddenly asked. “I hope Mr. Mandalay here isn’t bothering you.”

“Actually, he is bothering us,” Broussard snapped. “We dropped one of our bags thanks to him. A bottle of tequila shattered, and now there’s glass everywhere.”

Luke shook his head. “Adam is new to the Excelsior family. He doesn’t understand how we operate. I’ll make sure we discuss this with Mr. Langston when we land in Houston.”

“See that you do.” Broussard looked around, then gestured to the other man. “I need to dry off. Go find something to clean this up. We can’t leave any trace.”

“Where?” his associate asked. “I don’t know this airport as well as the others…”

“Mr. Mandalay,” Luke snapped. “Go help our passengers find whatever they need to clean this up. I’ll stay here and watch your bags.”

Broussard looked at Luke, then at the luggage.

“Don’t worry,” Luke assured him. “Unlikesomepeople, I know to keep my hands off things that don’t belong to me. I’ll make sure nobody comes near.”

Luke had flown with Broussard plenty of times before, so he must have been trusted. Broussard nodded, then stormed into the terminal with me and the other man on his heels. As soon as we were inside, Broussard went straight to the men’s bathroom.

“The cleaning supplies are that way,” I said, pointing toward the far end of the terminal. “Want me to get them for you? I can clean up your bags, make sure they’re spotless…”

A flicker of fear shone in the other man’s eyes. “No! I’ll do everything.” He looked around the terminal suspiciously. “Stay here and watch the door. Make sure nobody goes near our bags.”

“Message received,” I said.

The man walked away to look for the cleaning supplies. I turned and peered out the window. Just as I had hoped, Luke was checking suitcases, patting them down—presumably to feel for which ones were cold.

“Hurry,” I muttered to myself. “They’ll be back any minute…”

“What did you say?” Broussard suddenly asked.

I whirled around. Broussard was standing a few feet away clutching a handful of paper towels. He sat on a bench and removed one of his shoes.

“I was trying to give myself a pep talk,” I said, hamming it up for dramatic effect. “I know I screwed up. I’m really sorry. This is my first flight with Excelsior and I wanted to make a good impression.”

Broussard held the towels against his sock and said, “You made an impression, but it wasn’t a good one.”

Resisting the urge to peer out the window, I said, “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“No.”

I need to warn Luke. If he gets caught…

“I understand,” I said. “I’ll leave you alone, then…”

As I turned and put my hand on the door to go outside, Broussard said, “Oh no you don’t. I don’t want you going anywhere near my luggage. Stay right here until I’m done.”

I managed to sneak a peek out the window before turning back around. Luke had another suitcase open, and was gawking at the contents.Hurry.

“I won’t go near your luggage. I’m going straight to the jet, where I’ll stay until we take off.”

“Don’t leave my sight,” Broussard said in a cold, dangerous voice. The kind of voice I didn’t dare argue with. For the first time since agreeing to all of this, I wondered if I had gotten myself into something more dangerous than I expected.

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