It was Saturday morning, and there was usually a group of old school New York men on this flight. They were heading to Vegas, had just paid for an upgrade to first class, and were getting their party started. They were obnoxious and rude, but also a common feature on JFK flights.
I paused briefly by James. His fists were clenched, his hard face tilted toward the small window. He looked very out of sorts.
“Can I help you with anything, Mr. Cavendish?” I asked him quietly. I couldn’t begin to imagine what had him so agitated.
He shook his head slightly. He quickly contradicted himself. “Tell Stephan I want to speak to him as soon as he’s available,” he said shortly.
“Okaaay,” I said, confused, and moved on.
CHAPTER NINE
Mr. Angry
“What was that all about?” I asked Stephan, as we buckled into our jump seats. He and James had had a brief but intense looking exchange right before Stephan came to sit beside me.
He just shook his head, looking out the window.
I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Ow,” he said, shooting me a surprised look. “What’s gotten into you?”
My eyes widened with incredulity. “Me? What about you? How did Mr. Beautiful over there get you in his corner so fast? You’re supposed to help me avoid guys like that. Instead, you’ve been helping him. And now you’re close-mouthed about talks you’re having with him.”
He sighed. “It was about that rowdy crowd in rows five and six. They’ve been keeping up a non-stop dialogue about you, and it’s not sitting well with James. I need to have a word with them once we reach ten thousand feet.”
He smirked suddenly. “Or else I think Mr. Beautiful might start throwing punches.”
I rolled my eyes, shooting an exasperated look at James, who was directly in my view. He still had his gaze trained on the window, but his eyes were glassed over, his fists clenched hard. He looked even more agitated now.
“It’s just the usual good ol’ boy Vegas crowd,” I told Stephan. “Same type of crowd we get almost every week. The’ve been easy to ignore so far. Don’t get them unnecessarily riled up.”
Now it was Stephan’s turn to look exasperated. “I don’t think you heard the worst of what they’ve been saying. James told me, and it wasn’t pretty. They are being particularly raunchy and using a lot of profanity loudly enough for the rest of the cabin to be disturbed. I need to address it. Better to nip it in the bud. And look at James. He is seriously agitated. Better to piss off a few jerks than to have an all out brawl on our hands.”
I did look at James. I studied him closely. His agitation seemed to be growing by the second.
His eyes snapped wide suddenly, his gaze shooting to us, his hands going to his seat belt as though he were preparing to get up.
“Ah, shit,” Stephan muttered, trepidation in his voice.
James seemed to get himself under control, carefully letting go of his seat belt and unclenching his hands. He closed his eyes, his lips moving.
“He’s counting to ten,” I said stupidly. “Can you hear what they’re saying that’s getting him all riled up? I can’t hear a thing.”
“I can hear their voices, but I can’t make out what they’re saying at all,” Stephan said, watching James carefully.
Stephan was painfully tense. I knew he hated fighting more than just about anything else in the world. I had also seen him fight several times, though it had been years since he’d had to. He was exceptionally good at it. Whatever happened, he would be able to handle himself, I knew. But he would hate it. He abhorred violence of any kind.
James opened his eyes suddenly, looking more furious than I’d ever seen him. Apparently counting to ten hadn’t worked. His hands shot again to his seat belt and I watched in horror as he shot from his seat, striding to the troublemakers with violence in every quick step.
“Fuck,” Stephan cursed. “Stay here. Please,” he pleaded, going after James in a flash.
There was a very tense exchange. James was leaning down close to speak to the man who had addressed me earlier, and I couldn’t see his face or hear what he was saying.
Stephan was pointing at one of the other men and his voice was raised, though I couldn’t make out the words over the plane engine and the distance. I was surprised that Stephan didn’t even look at James, making no attempt whatsoever to make him return to his seat.
Shit, I thought. That probably meant his own temper was flaring up as well. It really would be a brawl if Stephan started throwing punches.
I saw the man who Stephan was clearly reaming out raise his hands, as though in surrender. That didn’t seem to appease Stephan, though, who just turned to the man who James had taken special exception to. I assumed he was still talking to the man, though I couldn’t hear him.