The corner of his mouth tilted in a rare half smile that was gone in an instant. “What did you do? E-mail him to death too? Cyberstalk him with inconsequential e-mails?”
How sweet. He knew how to crack a joke. “Nope. I reserve that rare honor for you. And those e-mails were not inconsequential,” she found herself blurting out, her voice barely there as she finished the sentence.
He didn’t answer, his eyes like laser beams going through her.
“Getting time off is not a good idea. If I drop all the stuff I normally do, people around me will notice there’s something wrong.” Not to mention she would go ballistic if she wasn’t busy. She would never be able to sleep again. “And not only that, but how the hell are we going to explain your presence? What are we going to tell the Bowens?”
She didn’t want them involved in any manner. James and Max had two small babies. Christy was pregnant. Their hands were full without having to worry about her or babysit her. And they would the instant they found out about the whole Maldonado situation.
“I’ll tell them we hooked up.”
The absurdity of that statement made her burst into laughter. “And who would believe that?”
“Does it look like I can’t play the part?” he asked, pressing her flush against him.
Well, if that hard thing poking from below his waist was anything to go by, then no, he had no problem playing the part. But that was beside the point.
She couldn’t deny Jack pushed all her buttons, getting her hot and bothered with just a look. The problem was, whenever she was around him she felt trapped between wanting to kiss him and wanting to beat the shit out of him.
And she’d given up on bad boys.
“What about me being repulsive and unbearable? A burden?”
“’Repulsive and unbearable’ were your words, not mine, pet. And you are a burden, but not in the sense you think.”
“What do you mean?” A burden was a burden; no two ways about it.
He shook his head, looking pissed off again, and put space between them. “Forget it.”
Once she wasn’t in his force field, she regained her bearings and realized Louise was waving at her from behind the check-in counter. Oh crap.
“I need to go. The passenger I told you about is arriving.”
“I let you go take care of this, and in exchange you’re putting in for time off. Otherwise you’re going nowhere.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’d let me?”
He didn’t correct his words, remaining silent, his face inscrutable, his grip on her shoulders unshakable. Yeah, apparently he’d meant exactly what he’d said.
Damn, Elle wanted to hash this out now, but she couldn’t miss Aston Biggs. She had the moral duty to make his life as miserable as humanly possible, so she nodded curtly.
She had lots of accumulated extra hours, and with Tate out of Rosita’s, the workload at the restaurant was going to double. Maybe getting some time off at the airport wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
He released her and she hurried to the counter, Jack at her heels.
“What did this guy do to you?”
“To me? Nothing.”
Aston Biggs, famous Internet mogul, had thrown his weight around and used his name and influence with her supervisor to get a last-minute seat on a transatlantic flight that had been totally booked. Because of him, there was a domino effect of bumped passengers, and a woman who had a confirmed seat was left out. She hadn’t made it on time and her son had died alone in a hospital after an accident. All so that asshole could go have lunch in Paris or whatever it was pricks like him did there.
Elle hadn’t been working when that had happened, but she’d been there when the woman had been waiting for the next flight and had gotten the news of her son passing away.
She hadn’t been able to say her good-byes, so it had been Elle’s mission ever since to be at all his flights to stomp all over his rights.
“I hate bullies, and he’s the worse kind,” she answered. “The kind who can’t take what he himself dishes out. All talk, no walk. Because of him, someone missed something that she can’t ever get back.” And she knew very well what she was talking about.
“Why did he put a restraining order on you?”
“The guy has no sense of humor,” she muttered as they reached the counter.
Louise’s eyes were still wide. She gave Jack a once-over and whispered, “Elle, who is this?”
“Borg, Louise. Louise, Borg,” she introduced them.
“Oh. Good idea to get a bodyguard. Perfect intimidation technique. You never know when Biggs will snap.”
Elle hadn’t thought of it that way, but Louise was right. Not that Elle needed someone fighting her battles.
As always, Aston Biggs was fashionably late. He believed people of his stature weren’t supposed to be kept waiting, much less with commoners. His time was too valuable.
The little weasel scrunched his nose at the sight of her. “You. I don’t want her tending to my business,” he said to Louise.