Page 56 of Naughty or Nice

‘Miss Beaumont.’

He offers her a glass and she takes it with a smile.

‘Thank you.’

Frederick beams back at her. Frederick my professional and extremely impassive flight attendant. Yet another person who breaks character for her and they’ve barely shared two words.

I can’t blame him either. Eva has this look in her eyes when she’s relaxed that seems to encompass the world. They’re so bright, so caring, so captivating. And I’m hooked on them as I take my own glass.

‘What has Andreges prepared for dinner?’

I barely hear as Frederick runs through the menu. I’m watching as Eva’s lips part with growing surprise and, if the colour in her cheeks is any indication, with pleasure too.

‘Wow,’ she says when he finishes, ‘that sounds fabulous.’

‘I trust it’s acceptable?’

Frederick is asking me, of course, but I’m still looking at her.

‘Is it?’ I ask.

Her smile fills the cabin, contagious as it sweeps us both. ‘Acceptable? It sounds delicious!’

‘Wonderful.’

Frederick clasps his hands together, still beaming. This is the most animated I’ve ever seen him.

‘I will bring it through shortly.’

He glides away and silence descends. Her eyes are off me as she frowns into her champagne, and her switch from exuberant enjoyment to quiet introspection is so rapid I struggle to keep up.

Despite the cushioned leather I’m suddenly uncomfortable, and I shift in my seat, runn

ing a finger through my open collar. I can take a guess at what she’s thinking about, but I don’t want to go back to that. We’ve done the past. Now I want to look to the future.

‘I spoke to my father,’ she says, before I can think of a conversation-starter to stop her.

I drink my champagne but barely feel its chilling progression down my throat or even taste it. The Beaumonts make me numb. It’s a defence mechanism—effective with all bar her. But I’ve come to accept that. I don’t want to be numb with her. I like how alive she makes me feel.

‘And...?’

‘I told him he needs to get the truth out of Nate and acknowledge they did wrong by you.’

She sits straighter and brushes her free-flowing hair over one shoulder, all calm and controlled and breathtaking with it.

‘I also told him to back off as far as my business goes. This is my decision—they have no say in it.’

I don’t react, keeping my face deadpan even though inside my pride in her swells. The Evangeline of our youth would never have stood up to them.

‘You said it just like that?’ My lip quirks as I imagine it.

‘Pretty much,’ she says, and the glint in her eye hits me with the blue of her sweater. I love her in blue. Hell, I love her in every colour.

I realise she’s staring at me, waiting for a response, and I ask carefully, ‘How did they take it?’

She drinks her champagne and shrugs. ‘Dad’s still coming to terms with Nate’s lies—he needs to hear it from him.’

I nod. ‘And our potential working relationship?’