First Class Sin. Cara Lockwood

didn’t know how many zeroes he had in his bank account. Too many, really, when he thought about it. Growing up middle class, he’d never imagined he’d have this much wealth at his disposal, that he’d own one of the world’s biggest airlines. Yet here he was.

      “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and he admired the slimness of her neck. He loved how quick she was, how smart. He admired that she had strong opinions and stuck to them. He found himself wanting to ask her personal questions: does she have a family? Does she ever want kids? But those questions weren’t the ones he was supposed to ask. He ought to be focusing on her consulting work for AM Air. This is business. Just business. Don’t make it personal.

      He doubted Juliana would ever guess she was sitting next to the man who ran the company she was evaluating. Law didn’t like the spotlight, and shunned social media, so few outside Blue Sky even knew what he looked like. He knew it was unfair to keep Juliana in the dark, but he’d been tasked with evaluating how competent she was, and that was what he’d do. He’d never had a problem keeping his professional life separate from his personal one before. He wasn’t about to start now.

      Then, out of nowhere, the plane hit a serious and unexpected patch of turbulence. He clutched his armrest as the nose dipped. Without warning, they seemed to fall ten feet and Law felt his stomach leap to his throat.

      Whoa, what was that?

      Law knew turbulence could pop up unexpectedly but there was barely a cloud in the sky, and weather forecasts had been clear almost all the way to Chicago. His mind instantly clicked into survival mode: assess the danger, form a plan, act. But of course, there was nothing he could do. He was wearing his seat belt, and Juliana had on hers, and someone else was flying this bucket of bolts, and all they could do was wait and hope for the best. He glanced at Juliana, who’d lost all the blood in her face, looking a shade paler than the tray table stowed in front of her. He reached out and clasped her hand. She let him, glancing at him with fear in her eyes. How he wanted to tell her everything would be okay, that she shouldn’t be afraid, but the hairs standing up on the back of his neck told him maybe that was a promise he couldn’t make.

      The plane jostled again, one overhead bin flying open and a backpack falling out into the aisle with a hard thud. Gasps and one shout went up from nearby passengers as Law held Juliana’s hand, pulling her arm closer to his, worried that all his bragging about Blue Sky’s accident record might have cursed them. He glanced around the cabin, looking at the panicked faces around them, many with eyes squeezed shut in prayer, and saw he wasn’t the only one who thought this contraption might fall from the sky. Goodness, the irony: Blue Sky President and Majority Shareholder Dies in Own Plane Crash. He was pretty sure all his shares would be worthless after that. Although, who cared if he was dead?

      He realized in that moment the stark truth: no one. He had no one to leave his fortune to other than a couple of distant cousins he rarely saw, and his alma mater, the University of Pennsylvania. The Ivy League school would be getting a substantial portion of his estate. If he went down with this plane, he’d be a tiny blip in history, one soon forgotten.

      He looked at Juliana, who had pressed her lips into a grim line.

      “We’re going to be fine,” he told her, glad he sounded authoritative, and hoped it wasn’t a lie.

      The cabin rattled once more, hard, the nose of the plane dipping down. Another round of shocked gasps pierced the air, and this time one high-pitched scream. She squeezed his hand hard, holding on with all her might, her grip surprisingly strong. Not a sound left her clenched jaw, but Law could tell she was using all her strength to keep the panic in check. Law found himself running through all manner of different scenarios—none of them good. He heard the ceiling rattle and prayed the cabin stayed in one piece. Once bits started flying off, the cabin pressure would be done for. He tried to think of ways he could protect Juliana, but he knew if the plane really did go down, his options would be limited.

      The plane dipped twice more as the cabin rattled and his armrest vibrated. Now a man shouted from somewhere behind him. Much more of this, and none of the passengers would be able to hold it together. He could feel the pilots struggle to get control of the nose once more. Then, after another harrowing few seconds, the plane righted itself. Sheesh. What the hell had that all been about?

      The pilot came on the intercom seconds later. She sounded calm, and completely collected. “Sorry about that, folks. We hit an unexpected patch of turbulence, but we’re all okay now.”

      Law made a mental note to find out the pilot’s name and send her his own personal commendation. Not only had she gotten the plane back on track, but she’d made it look easy, too.

      Applause rippled through the cabin as collectively everyone let out a sigh of relief. “We’ll be keeping the seat belt sign on for just a little bit to make sure we’re out of it.”

      He damn well wasn’t taking his seat belt off this whole flight at this point. He glanced over at Juliana, and he could tell by the look on her face she wouldn’t, either.

      “Are you okay?” he asked her, realizing her breathing came in rapid, staccato breaths. She kept a viselike grip on his hand, nearly cutting off his circulation.

      “I think so.” Her voice sounded shaky. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hug her until she stopped shaking. A flight attendant darted down the aisle and grabbed the backpack that had fallen onto the carpeted floor. She grabbed it and tucked it back up into the open overhead bin and then shut the door.

      “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think I need a drink.”

      Juliana laughed a little, still holding his hand tightly. “Yeah, for sure,” she said. “But now? We’re at the back of coach, and there’s no beverage service.”

      “Actually, sitting at the back of the plane is the best place to be,” Law said, sharing a little-known secret. “Flight attendants are more likely to give you special treatment, because the other passengers can’t really see.”

      “Really?” Juliana seemed skeptical. No matter, Law would show her. CEO or not, passengers at the back of the plane did get a few perks. The studies at his airlines showed flight attendants were twice as likely to respond to a call button at the back of the plane than the middle. This was part convenience, but also practicality. There only existed so many blankets and extra drinks on a plane. If staff gave them out where everyone could see, there’d be more demand. Besides, if he needed to, he’d pull rank.

      “Trust me. What’s your poison?” he asked.

      “Wine, normally, but I’d say this deserves a vodka soda,” she murmured, taking a deep breath.

      “Coming right up.” He signaled the flight attendant sitting in the jump seat behind them, realizing he knew her. He’d met Sari on her first day a few years ago when she’d accidentally spilled soda on his pants. She’d spent the rest of the flight profusely apologizing and near tears after another flight attendant told her who he was. He’d told her that as long as she treated every customer as if they were the president of the airline, then she’d do just fine.

      Her face broke out into a smile when she saw him.

      “Law! So nice to see you,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

      “You and the crew okay? Anyone banged up after that little bit?” he asked, concerned. After all, these were his people and he wanted to make sure they were all right.

      Sari shook her head. “We’re fine.” She flashed him a brave smile. Juliana still held his hand and he was almost afraid to move it for fear she’d realize they were still touching. He liked the feel of her hand on his, her long, delicate fingers wrapped around his.

      “Good.” He nodded. “Could you do me a huge favor? Would you mind grabbing us two vodka sodas?”

      “Right away, sir,” Sari said, not missing a beat as she turned around and disappeared into the plane’s galley.

      “How do you do that?”