Turbulent Intentions (Billionaire Aviators #1) - Melody Anne Page 0,32
if it isn’t hot enough. I can steam it more,” she said, though steam was pouring off the drink.
“Feel it,” he demanded and reached for her hand.
That was Stormy’s breaking point. Ripping her arm back before the man could touch her, she accidently hit the cup and knocked it on its side, the hot liquid splashing all over her angry customer.
“What the hell!” he screeched, jumping back.
“Seems pretty hot,” Stormy muttered before she thought that might not be the best thing to say.
“I want your manager right now,” he hollered.
If Stormy had the energy to care, she might have realized the mess she was in. But as Henry came out, profusely apologizing to the man, then stepping in and remaking his drink for free and giving him just about anything he wanted, she simply stood there and waited.
When he was finished, Stormy stood back and began taking off her apron. It didn’t matter if the incident wasn’t her fault, didn’t matter if the customer wasn’t always right. Henry wouldn’t see it that way.
When the man exited their business she turned and looked at Henry, who was glowering at her.
“I know, I know,” she said, too tired to even care. “I’m fired.”
Henry seemed a bit disappointed he hadn’t been able to say the words. But he didn’t stop her from handing over her badge, keys, and apron.
So much for this day being the best one possible.
Refusing to let it get her down too badly, she turned and walked away from the job that hadn’t been her best one ever, but hadn’t been the worst either. Now, she had to hit the streets all over again.
At least she was too damn tired to care.
When her phone rang as she left the terminal, she considered throwing it beneath one of the many busses passing by, but then a smile lifted her lips when she saw who it was.
“Miracles do happen. The too-busy-to-ever-call-her-best-friend woman is answering her phone,” Lindsey grumbled with zero greeting.
Stormy laughed.
“I’ve been in a funk lately and not fit to socialize with anyone,” Stormy said by way of apology.
“I’m not just anyone. I’m your bestie, so no matter how bad the funk, you always, and I mean always, talk to me,” Lindsey insisted.
“I know. How’s the move going?”
“It’s heaven,” Lindsey said, but Stormy could hear something in her voice.
“What is it?” Stormy demanded.
“Mike’s place is tiny. I mean tiny with a capital T . . . or should I say small T. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”
“Because you love him,” Stormy pointed out.
“Yes, I guess . . .”
“Okay, we need to get together soon. You’re worrying me, Lins,” Stormy said.
“I’m good. I promise. Now, let’s talk about you,” Lindsey insisted.
Stormy chatted with her best friend while she rode the bus home. She didn’t tell her she was being kicked from her apartment because that would upset her and she would insist on Stormy coming to her place. There was no way Stormy was going to share a postage-size apartment with the two new lovers.
Besides, Stormy would figure it out. She always did. Even if she had gotten knocked down more times than she cared to admit. The ending result wouldn’t be her dream situation, but it would eventually work out and she’d survive.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
His limbs practically twitching as he walked down the Jetway, Cooper had to stop himself from running as one of the flight attendants chatted away about her plans for the weekend.
He’d been in the plane for the past five hours after a ten-hour day. He was pushing the max time allowed and he was ready to blow off some steam. He sure as hell hoped his brother was up for a round at the gym. Last time they’d boxed, Maverick had gotten in a lucky shot, giving him a bloody nose.
It was payback time.
With flight bags in tow, Cooper walked toward the exit. As he turned a corner, he glanced up and noticed Stormy moving down the concourse ahead of him.
His weariness faded when he realized she was still in the building. Before he was able to try to chase her down, his phone rang for the third time in three minutes. Whoever was trying to get ahold of him was being obscenely insistent.
It must be important. If not the person was going to get chewed.
Stopping, he dug out his phone and answered. “What?”
He wasn’t going to try to pretend to be pleasant when the person on the other end was most certainly interrupting him.