Page 2 of Just Like You (Square Mile Rogues #2)

Kieron Andrieu, I read straight from the passenger list in my hand.

Diamond club card holder. We had too many of those; every single one of them thinking they were God’s gift to my particular airline of employment.

Truth was, they were, even I was well aware of how much money these humans brought to the business, and Mr Andrieu here must be over six feet tall, squashed into a middle seat in economy, wearing a very…

fine suit that stretched alarmingly over his impressive chest .

Then he looked up at me, and… Yes. A delightful specimen of a man indeed. I didn’t usually let these things affect me, but…

Ice-blue eyes. Dark hair flung over his forehead, cheekbones to die for and an alarming amount of neat stubble on his perfectly groomed chin.

I was tired, and perhaps I was a little overly emotional as such, but he looked so uncomfortable and squashed, and yes.

I did feel for him. I’d spent many hours sat on planes, just like this, and I wasn’t even six foot tall.

Julian Bradley was a scrawny little thing, and even in my thirties, where I’d once been a cute little twink, I no longer was.

These days I was a pathetic and desperate man whose once youthful looks were fading fast. That was the honest truth.

Not that I had the time to reflect over my lack of appeal, standing here staring at a man who had…inadvertently ended up in a seat not built to accommodate him. Instead, I was rather awkwardly staring at my passenger list, noting the evidence that was clearly there.

Mr Kieron Andrieu, this very… large and squashed…

Diamond club card holder, had today somehow drawn the unlucky number and some numpty at check-in had downgraded him.

Which nobody had cared to inform me of before boarding so I could have sorted that massive overstep and swapped his seat with whoever had paid the least in our business class section…

which was what Mr Andrieu had paid handsomely for.

Also, he was clearly grumpy, gritting his teeth as I tried to clear my throat.

“Mr Andrieu, I am so, so sorry. ”

“Don’t bother,” he hissed, not even looking at me. “If you can’t fix this, I really don’t want to hear your excuses.”

Ah. So that kind of man. Still, he looked up at me and…

Handsome, yet so angry. And yes, I was no doubt hallucinating with this week’s accumulated tiredness, because he huffed again and crossed his arms tighter. “I paid more than your monthly wage for this flight.”

“I am well aware of that,” I answered back.

Well, he had no idea what kind of money I made, but I was excruciatingly aware of our overinflated business class fares, and after all these years dabbling in the art of customer service, I knew better than to get involved in long discussions about things I couldn’t fix.

“I am, and I say it again, extremely sorry about all of this. We are completely, fully booked today, and I unfortunately have no other seat to offer you. I can, though, offer you a compliment—”

He held his hand up in my face.

“Spare me the spiel, Julian.”

Yeah. I had my name on my name badge right there on my chest, but I didn’t like the way he spat my name out.

“If there is anything I can do to make your journey with us more comfortable, then…”

I had to stop because he stared at me. Right at me and it made my heart jolt.

“Spare me the bullshit,” he said, in a voice dripping with venom. “I fly this route once a week and this? This is fucking ridiculous. ”

“Mr Andrieu, if you could please mind your language,” I said, side-eyeing the family in the row in front, with the snotty toddler who was now standing on the seat holding a particularly sticky sweet in their hand.

Ugh. Children. I tried to smile sweetly at the child, and less so at the mother who made zero effort to control the small human who was now smearing snot and sticky stuff on the headrest in front of Mr Andrieu, who looked suitably disgusted.

“Please,” he said. I had no idea if it was a plea or another sarcastic remark to once again remind me of who I was. A nobody. Someone who had worked far too hard in the past week and who just needed a friendly face and a… Fuck.

Not that kind of…fuck. I needed dick like a bullet to the head, but now the toddler had chucked the sweet onto Mr Andrieu’s suit and if I didn’t resolve this?

I had no seats. No staff travelling who I could move.

I had nothing, and it was summer and all these families with small children were doing my head in.

Everything was a little too much. Drama.

Constant problems and issues and disappointed people thinking I had some kind of magic wand and could fix everything and anything with a flick of my wrist.

“Mr Andrieu,” we were discreetly interrupted. “I’m Aurelia, and I will be looking after you today. Unfortunately, I need to borrow Julian here for a second. I will be right back with some wet wipes for that…sticky…”

She reached out and took the sweet out of Mr Andrieu’s pinched grip, and I? I fled.

“He’s a massive wanker,” Aurelia whispered in my ear as I slid through the galley. “The passenger in 4C just complained of chest pain, Mario is on the radio to MedLink, and I think the Captain is throwing a tantrum. He’s got tickets to the Matinee of Wicked and…”

“On it.” I rolled my eyes as she smiled.

“It’s one of those days.”

It definitely was. One of those, where nothing was straightforward and everything seemed to just go wrong. One thing after the other, as someone with a massive pushchair tried to enter the galley, blocking my way. How they’d got that thing down the aisle? Beyond me…and physics.

I was stuck here, and Aurelia was trying to wave her hands to get the pushchair out and…and…

And now Kieron Andrieu was standing in the galley, right in front of me, all…impressive six feet of him. Built. Broad. Imposing and… I had to think it. Dangerously handsome.

Also a straight bastard, because I wasn’t stupid or delusional.

“I need to wash my hands. And I will be sending you the dry-cleaning bill for this suit,” he barked out.

This Kieron Andrieu was obviously a nasty piece of work and our Captain was a selfish wanker and whoever was in 4C was getting offloaded, this very minute, alongside this monstrosity of a pushchair.

I didn’t care. Not today. This Mr Andrieu was staying in his crappy seat, and the sooner this sector would be over?

The sooner I would get back into a nice, clean hotel bed and try to regain some of my sanity.