30 Days (Lost Love Trilogy #1) - Belle Brooks Page 0,35

us. I received your message loud and clear.” Sadness washes over his expression.

“Okay.” Why do those words cut through my heart like glass?

I’m so uncomfortable being in his presence. I urgently need space between us. Standing, I place the strap of my carry-on over my shoulder, adjust my low-rider jeans, and inspect my white top for any stains, since spilling liquid on myself is another talent I seem to possess. All good. Pulling my suitcase behind me, the waiting area is now at my rear.

“Where are you going? We need to check in for the flight in five minutes.”

“To pee,” I call back, loud enough for everyone sitting there to hear.

“Don’t be long,” he shouts.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see his tense jaw, his creased brow, his worried expression … I’m annoyed. It’s not like I have a choice to stay and cancel my flight.

The restrooms are vacant apart from a cleaning lady in one of the stalls. My reflection looks completely lost as I stand there staring at myself. “I’m never going to be happy again,” I mutter before using the amenities.

When I return to the check-in area, I find Marcus waiting with his arms crossed. Why is he waiting for me?

“You’re ready now?”

“Yes,” I reply quietly, mainly because my voice has lost any power, since I’ve concluded this week is going to be even harder than I first anticipated.

He takes each stride in time with mine. I want to scream, “Fuck off!” but don’t. Marcus goes first and his check-in is smooth and non-eventful. Why wouldn’t it? When it’s my turn, of course security pulls me to the side, running that silly handheld machine they have over my person. The humorous expression on Marcus’s face tells me he’s enjoying the fact I was singled out for this procedure. I’m not really embarrassed, yet I feel my cheeks warming. Finally, when I’m allowed to continue through to boarding, I can hear his laughter.

“Is it—”

“Nope, not hot. I’m blushing because that guard was incredibly attractive,” I lie.

Marcus instantly stops his heckle.

We sit for about five minutes until the announcement from the speakers tells us it’s time to board. We say not a word, nor do I look at him as we get on the plane.

“Welcome,” the flight assistant says as I enter. “You’re in business class.” She points in the opposite direction to the passengers before me. I’ve never flown business before. “Sir, you’re also in business class.”

“Thank you,” Marcus replies, following close behind me—too close.

Part of me wants to stop suddenly so his body presses against mine. The other part of me knows if this were to happen, I’d be uncomfortable for the entire flight to Sydney, so I don’t.

“Seat 12A. Where are you …? Found it!” I mutter.

The seat is perfect, close to the front of the aircraft, a place I’ve always wanted to sit when flying. Plus, business class is much roomier than economy. A feeling of satisfaction washes over me. I become delighted when my seat number is the one located by the window. A rare moment of good luck, it seems. If only Sammy were here to celebrate this with me. It’s almost hard to believe.

After pushing my luggage into the overhead, I slide to the window and get comfy, looking back over my shoulder once settled. I notice Marcus has stopped a few rows back and is standing, talking to an older gentleman in a swanky black suit. Is that Mr Klein? It must be. My stomach begins to flutter. Any minute now, I’ll meet my new boss. I just hope my hex allows me a week off and that he’s not a complete arse to work for.

Trying to dampen the nerves, I think of topics I could discuss on our flight. Politics? No. Football? Not a chance. Golf? Okay, golf is off-limits. The law? I know very little about the law. My face becomes hot, but this time it’s not from blushing it’s from anger. Marcus distracted me at the airport. I’d planned to spend that time thinking about questions for the trip. Dropping my head in frustration, I try to come up with appropriate topics of conversation, ones where I’ll seem like I actually have a fucking clue.

The weather. Yes, that I can do. I breathe a sigh of relief. Slowly, I swivel my head just enough to catch a glimpse of the two men talking easily and comfortably. They shake hands and then Marcus walks my way. The man in the