Grace Takes Off(33)
Propelled by anger, embarrassment, and probably one too many Death in the Afternoons, Pinky slung her purse over an indignant shoulder. “Stupid dog. She should be riding in the cargo hold.”
“What is wrong with you?” Matthew asked.
Evelyn came by at that moment with a treat for Millie. “Here you go, girl,” she said before turning to Pinky. “We do have a few extra seats in back, if you’d prefer to sit there.”
Pinky turned her back to Matthew, Millie, and the rest of us and marched to one of the open seats. Evelyn leaned forward to pet Millie, making eye contact with Matthew as she did so. “Where did you pick that one up?” she asked quietly.
Matthew scowled. “I’m too old to be falling for this sort of thing, but . . .” He sent a venomous glare toward the back of the plane. “She latched on to me last night and made me feel like I was being some knight in shining armor by getting her back to the States. I’m an idiot.”
I dropped my voice. “You don’t think she’s on the run? I mean, from the authorities?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Nah. The attendant back at the airport ran a quick check on her. Adam insisted on it.” He jerked a thumb toward his reading friend. “When Pinky’s in a good mood, she seems okay. Too bad she hasn’t been in a good mood since she came on board.”
Bennett asked a question about Millie’s lineage and the two men began discussing dogs they’d had as pets. Evelyn took her leave, explaining that she needed to get back to preparing dinner. I participated in the conversation for a while then excused myself as a thought took hold. Evelyn had been incredible thus far. It couldn’t be easy to keep a drunk man, two indifferent women, a dog owner and his dog-hating girlfriend, two eye-rolling friends, and two strangers happy. But from the moment we’d arrived, she’d worked tirelessly to ensure everyone’s comfort, even that of her unwelcome assistant.
I thought about how much Antoinette, Nico Pezzati’s chef, had appreciated our kind words about breakfast, and I decided to make an effort to thank Evelyn when I had a chance to catch her alone.
Rudy had taken a position in the business area at the front of the plane, but I’d lost sight of Evelyn. I assumed she was at work in the other galley. This was as good a time as any, I thought and started back. I passed the two chattering women, who didn’t pay any attention, and Jeff, who had turned on his side and was again fast asleep. Across the aisle from him, the man who had helped him aboard, whose name I’d discovered was Carl, wore headphones. He kept up a beat with those never-ceasing drumsticks and didn’t look up as I passed.
Adam did, glancing up from his book to make eye contact. His dark brows raised and he smiled slightly. I nodded a return greeting.
A set of cubicle-type walls separated the cabin of the plane from the rear area, with the side of the lavatory on my right and a floor-to-ceiling storage cabinet configuration on my left. They served as a clear separation between the two sections. I made a sharp right into the galley area, which was a lot more spacious than I’d expected. There wasn’t a door, or any other sort of barrier to stop me from entering the work space, but as I drew closer, I could see that the lighting was different, as was the floor. No soft carpeting, no fancy fixtures; this section was purely utilitarian.
The smell of dinner was strong here. Garlic, tomatoes, and a hint of basil floated around the L-shaped space. I moved along next to the stainless steel countertop and heard Evelyn working around the tight corner to the left.
“Evelyn—” I began as I reached far side, then: “You’re not Evelyn.”
My brain took a full three seconds to process what was going on.
Pinky stood in front of four dinner plates, all of them heaped with steaming pasta primavera. I noticed several things at once. Her eyes were wide, her hands were filled, and all the color slid from her face as her bottom lip dropped open.