out for the night. All just so that he could get her number, and spend some time with her.”
Now it was Melissa’s turn to look stunned, but she recovered almost immediately. It turned into a catty glance at me.
She gave me an insulting once over. “I bet you misunderstood. Stephan just thinks you’re special because you’ve been BFF’s forever.” And with that heartwarming assessment, she stalked out of the galley.
Stephan and I shared a look that communicated what we were starting to think about the little red-headed gold-digger.
The mess that awaited us outside of the plane was dealt with more quickly than I would have thought possible.
They were holding the loud-mouthed men somewhere in the airport, questioning them extensively. Probably scaring the hell out of them, I thought. One police officer was waiting for us when we deplaned, and interviewed me briefly about what I’d seen and heard personally.
My part was short. And I got to hear Stephan’s account first hand, so I got a pretty clear picture of what had gone down.
It had started out as raunchy chatter by the men, though Stephan had heard about that second-hand from James. Comments about my body, things they’d like to do to me, graphic and disgusting, but nothing we’d call the police about, usually.
And then on takeoff, one of them had apparently gotten especially loud and graphic, talking about some drugs he had with him just for women like me, and that they should follow me through the airport and buy me a drink. And drug it. And then try to get me alone in their hotel room.
That encouraged the others to add in what they would do to me when I was drugged and unconscious, and there I got a clearer picture of why the police had been called.
I doubted the men would get arrested, unless the drugs they had mentioned really were in one of their suitcases. I thought it more likely they would lose a few hours of their precious vacation time and get the hell scared out of them by the police.
Stephan finished telling his version of the events shortly, and without any unnecessary embellishment.
The police officer nodded and wrote as he went on. Just as he finished up, I saw James approaching with another police officer. Neither of these officers had been there to meet the plane.
Just how many police were involved in this fiasco? I wondered, a little baffled.
I stiffened a little when I saw that Melissa was walking beside him, touching the back of his arm in an overly friendly way as she chattered away about God only knew what. I tried to ignore her.
James looked stoic and unreadable as the trio got closer to us. I noticed that he wore only his dress shirt, still with no tie or jacket.
“Did we leave his suit jacket on the plane?” I asked Stephan.
Stephan blinked. “Must have,” he said.
“I’ll go get it,” I told him, and turned briskly to do so.
The plane was deserted as I came back on, and I was relieved that another crew hadn’t yet taken it over.
I dug a pen and a piece of hotel stationary from my carryon, jotting down my name and number, and slipped the small piece of paper into James’s jacket.
I’d done a whole hell of a lot more already, so it seemed silly not to give the man my number.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mr. Spellcaster
Both officers were absent, but James, Stephan, and Melissa were still waiting when I reemerged from the jetway. James and Melissa were speaking, but James looked up when he saw me, giving me his full, intense regard.
Stephan was writing furiously. He was filling out an incident report, I was sure.
I handed James his jacket without a word.
“Do I need to fill out my own, or can I just add to yours and sign?” I asked Stephan, referring to his paperwork.
“We can share,” he told me without looking up. “I’m almost done. I got most of it down during the
Now it was Melissa’s turn to look stunned, but she recovered almost immediately. It turned into a catty glance at me.
She gave me an insulting once over. “I bet you misunderstood. Stephan just thinks you’re special because you’ve been BFF’s forever.” And with that heartwarming assessment, she stalked out of the galley.
Stephan and I shared a look that communicated what we were starting to think about the little red-headed gold-digger.
The mess that awaited us outside of the plane was dealt with more quickly than I would have thought possible.
They were holding the loud-mouthed men somewhere in the airport, questioning them extensively. Probably scaring the hell out of them, I thought. One police officer was waiting for us when we deplaned, and interviewed me briefly about what I’d seen and heard personally.
My part was short. And I got to hear Stephan’s account first hand, so I got a pretty clear picture of what had gone down.
It had started out as raunchy chatter by the men, though Stephan had heard about that second-hand from James. Comments about my body, things they’d like to do to me, graphic and disgusting, but nothing we’d call the police about, usually.
And then on takeoff, one of them had apparently gotten especially loud and graphic, talking about some drugs he had with him just for women like me, and that they should follow me through the airport and buy me a drink. And drug it. And then try to get me alone in their hotel room.
That encouraged the others to add in what they would do to me when I was drugged and unconscious, and there I got a clearer picture of why the police had been called.
I doubted the men would get arrested, unless the drugs they had mentioned really were in one of their suitcases. I thought it more likely they would lose a few hours of their precious vacation time and get the hell scared out of them by the police.
Stephan finished telling his version of the events shortly, and without any unnecessary embellishment.
The police officer nodded and wrote as he went on. Just as he finished up, I saw James approaching with another police officer. Neither of these officers had been there to meet the plane.
Just how many police were involved in this fiasco? I wondered, a little baffled.
I stiffened a little when I saw that Melissa was walking beside him, touching the back of his arm in an overly friendly way as she chattered away about God only knew what. I tried to ignore her.
James looked stoic and unreadable as the trio got closer to us. I noticed that he wore only his dress shirt, still with no tie or jacket.
“Did we leave his suit jacket on the plane?” I asked Stephan.
Stephan blinked. “Must have,” he said.
“I’ll go get it,” I told him, and turned briskly to do so.
The plane was deserted as I came back on, and I was relieved that another crew hadn’t yet taken it over.
I dug a pen and a piece of hotel stationary from my carryon, jotting down my name and number, and slipped the small piece of paper into James’s jacket.
I’d done a whole hell of a lot more already, so it seemed silly not to give the man my number.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mr. Spellcaster
Both officers were absent, but James, Stephan, and Melissa were still waiting when I reemerged from the jetway. James and Melissa were speaking, but James looked up when he saw me, giving me his full, intense regard.
Stephan was writing furiously. He was filling out an incident report, I was sure.
I handed James his jacket without a word.
“Do I need to fill out my own, or can I just add to yours and sign?” I asked Stephan, referring to his paperwork.
“We can share,” he told me without looking up. “I’m almost done. I got most of it down during the
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