The brunette scrunched her nose. “She reminds me of some of the sorority girls I knew in college.”
“And is that a good thing or a bad one?”
She tried to look serious, but she needed to squint to see him. “Definitely bad. Those girls were bitches.”
He laughed despite himself. “I think you just saved me from a nasty divorce.”
She pointed her finger at him. “And don’t forget the alimony.”
“True enough. If you weren’t as drunk as a sailor on shore leave, I’d buy you a free drink. Is your mother really that scary?”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Worse.” She grabbed her water and drained it.
“So what are you going to do?”
She shrugged. “Tell her, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“It might be a really, really short trip.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “She’s picking me up from the airport. I can tell her as soon as she picks me up. Shoot, I didn’t even need to pack my suitcase.”
“It might not be so bad,” he volunteered. “She’ll understand. I can’t imagine a mother would want her daughter to marry a lying, cheating bastard.”
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nope. She can’t get her deposits back. She warned me last fall before making the bookings.” She looked up at him. “She was pissed about my engagement. She said Jay should have asked Dad for my hand in marriage, as if it were some kind of business transaction. And the fact that I’d dated him for two years without ever bringing him home. Well . . . that pissed her off, too.”
“So why not catch a flight to KC to introduce them?” He could only imagine how upset his mother would be if he got engaged to a woman she’d never met.
She sighed. “Jay could never get away. And honestly, I’ve only been home once in four years. I didn’t want him to meet them.”
“So they were basically going to meet him on the way to the chapel? I can understand why she’d be pissed.”
The woman gave him a frustrated glare. “Really, Mr. McMillan? I saved you from the single greatest mistake of your life—future Mrs. McMillan up there—and you’re turning on me just like that?” She tried to snap her fingers, but she fumbled with them several times before giving up.
He grinned. “When you put it that way . . . I’m still not surprised your mother was pissed.”
“Well, it wasn’t going to be like that. That’s why we were coming today, so my family could spend an extra couple of days getting to know him.”
“Wow.” He lifted his hands off his lap. “A whole couple of extra days to meet their new son-in-law.”
“You don’t know my family. And the whole thing’s moot. He’s history and my mother has to cancel a twenty-five-thousand-dollar wedding without getting a single penny back.” She took several shallow breaths, and Josh realized she was about to cry.
“Hey! Maybe she can get a refund on some of it.”
She sniffled, reaching to the floor for her purse, but the seatbelt across her lap kept it out of reach while also protecting her from falling out of the seat and onto her head—a real danger.
“Here, let me get that for you,” Josh said, already unlatching his belt. He leaned forward, grabbed the bag, and set it in her lap.
She pulled out a package of tissues, struggling to tug one loose from the plastic.
He reached over and did it for her.
She blew her nose, a noisy sound, then looked up at him. “Do you want to know the worst part?”
Ordinarily he wouldn’t. He’d be looking for the first opportunity out of this crazy conversation. But God help him, he was genuinely curious when he asked, “What?”
“She’s going to say, ‘I told you so.’” Tears filled her eyes. “They’re her favorite words.”
“Maybe she won’t. Families surprise you sometimes.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know my mother.”
There was no doubt about it; she was in a difficult position, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. But there was no need. Her alcohol-induced ADD kicked in, and she started digging through her bag again. “Where is it?”
“What are you looking for? Maybe I can help.”
“Tina lied. She swore that Dramamine would keep me from feeling sick, but I feel like I’m about to puke.”
“Dramamine?”
“Maybe I should take more.”
He grabbed her bag and pulled it from her. “You took Dramamine? When?”
“When I was boarding the plane. The last time I flew, the turbulence made me sick. I didn’t want that to happen again.”
“How many drinks have you had?”
“Only two,” she said, looking indignant, then a little sheepish. “Plus the rest of yours.”
“That’s two and a half too many. You can’t drink with Dramamine.” He reached over his head and pushed the call light.
The flight attendant appeared within seconds, and he found himself mentally calling her the almost-future Mrs. McMillan.
“Can I get more water for . . .” He looked at the nearly incapacitated woman, realizing he didn’t even know her name.
“Megan,” she offered.
“. . . for Megan. She’s not feeling well.”
The flight attendant looked disgusted. “Is she drunk?”
“No. She just needs water.”
The woman released an exasperated sigh and spun on her heels.
“She’s pissed at you, you know,” Megan mumbled, leaning back in the seat. “She’s jealous.”
“Let her be,” he grumbled. “Didn’t you know you shouldn’t drink with Dramamine?”
“No.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against the window.
The flight attendant brought the water and handed it to Josh, who took it without giving her a glance.
“Megan, why don’t you drink more water before you take a nap?” He looked back at the attendant, who stood in the aisle watching. “Can you bring her a blanket?”
She stomped away, returning with the blanket a few moments later. By then he’d coaxed Megan to drink more water. He leaned her seat back and spread the blanket over her as she passed out. He watched the rise and fall of her chest for a moment, feeling a bit better when it appeared normal. As long as she was breathing okay, she’d be fine. He considered telling Tiffani what was going on, but he didn’t expect much sympathy. Megan was right. The flight attendant was jealous.
He was about to engage in a last stand for the company that had been his life’s work—and his father’s and brother’s—so how had taking care of this woman become his top priority? The only thing he knew was that it felt right.
Chapter Three
Josh spent the rest of the flight worried about the woman next to him, so much so he had trouble focusing on his own issues. How was he going to prove that Andrew Peterman and Bart Vandemeer’s firm had stolen the plans? It wasn’t like they were just going to hand over the information willingly. He hoped fate would intervene and do him a solid. Ten employees were counting on him, including Ted Murray, an engineer close to retirement age who’d been hired by Josh’s father before Josh was even born, and Missy Dunston, their seven-months-pregnant receptionist. Neither one would have jobs lined up and waiting. They were counting on him to protect them, whether they knew it or not.