Beside me, Olivia typed furiously on her laptop, her poor keyboard suffering with every keystroke.
“I’m sorry about the breakup,” I said to our flight attendant.
“I’m not,” she cooed, playfully swatting my shoulder. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”
“Looking forward to it.” I watched American Airlines’ finest walk away then turned to my seatmate. “Did you just roll your eyes?”
More rapid-fire typing ensued. “No.”
“You absolutely did.”
“If I did,” Olivia said, “it was automatic. A hair-trigger response to watching junior high flirtations.”
“I’ve been back in your life less than a week, and you’re already jealous?” If looks could kill, I would’ve been outside, hanging onto a rotating propeller by my fingernails.
“You haven’t changed at all since college, have you?” she asked.
It took effort to maintain my carefree smile, but I hadn’t spent years working hard to outdistance my youthful bad reputation just to be kneecapped by one snippy comment from Olivia Sutton. “Is making decisions on faulty assumptions how you operate in business as well, Olivia?” I paused just long enough for her to work up a good glare. “What you saw just now was me being nice to someone. You should try it.”
Olivia’s murderous look darkened, and I knew she was probably calculating how many levers she’d have to pull to open a door and push me out of the plane.
But then she swayed in her chair and gave a small whimper. “These seats are unbearably close.” Her rapid blinking spiked my reluctant concern. “I wish we could open a window.”
“Very bad idea. The laws of physics tell us that would not end well.” I passed her my bottle of water. “Down some of this. In fact, take it all.”
“I’m not drinking after you,” she said without much rancor. “Who knows where your lips have been.”
My voice dipped low. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would not.” A bead of sweat trickled a discreet path down her neck.
“Drink the water, Olivia,” I said. “You look like you’re on the verge of passing out.”
“I’m fine.” But she grabbed my water bottle anyway, uncapped the top, and drank—my questionable germs be darned. “Is it warm in here to you?” With her free hand she tugged at the neck of her blouse. “Why’s it so hot?”
“I can have that effect on the ladies.” Okay, enough of this. I stood and held out a hand. “Let’s take a little walk.”
“I’d rather not.”
“A stroll through the aisle and to the galley is exactly what you need.” My fingers clasped her clammy hand. “Come on, Olivia. How about you breathe deeply, ignore those adorable tingly feelings of hatred, and channel all that uppity energy into moving.”
“Fine,” she said as I helped her to her feet. “But I would’ve done this anyway. Not because you suggested it.”
“Whatever you say, Livvy.” Her old nickname slipped off my tongue, and I caught Olivia’s instant glare. Only I had dared to call her that back in the day, and not because it suited her. Just because I knew it got under her skin.
With her raggedy breathing and a hand to her stomach, Olivia allowed me to lead her straight to the galley. The fake smile she wore looked at odds with her ghostly white face. “My friend here needs some air,” I explained to Flirty Flight Attendant.
Olivia shook her head. “That’s not true.”
“Pardon me,” I corrected. “My archenemy, whom I can barely tolerate, needs some air. Is it all right if we stand here for a few minutes?”
“Of course.” The woman was back to cooing, and Olivia was back to eye-rolling. “Is there anything I can get you?”
The flight attendant had directed that question to me, but Olivia responded hotly anyway. “I’m fine.”
“How about some juice?” I suggested.
Somewhere a bell dinged, and the attendant frowned as she passed a cup of OJ to Olivia. “I’ll be right back to check on you guys.”
