Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
"On the plane...you were sending an email to him."
"I just explained that me and my girlfriend had an awful experience with one of his employees on this flight. Which was the truth."
Blown away by the power Marco casually wields, I glance back again at Drew. I'm just in time to catch him sprinting towards us. His face is like a storm cloud. "You bitch!" he yells.
Sally hooks her arm around his neck from behind, tossing him to the ground. She strikes a stance that makes me positive she takes martial arts of some variety. "Stay away from her!" Sally shouts.
I watch the scuffle in front of me, my eyes wide. Sally fights like a wild woman, tripping Drew and knocking him to the ground before kicking him away. Drew jumps back to his feet and comes at us again; Sally dodges him and grabs him from behind, locking his arms in a submission hold. "Come on," Sally says to Drew. "You don't want me to do this, do you?"
The fight drains out of him. He shakes his head. "Okay, okay! Fuck!"
Sally releases him and he stumbles back, rubbing his tender neck and glaring at all of us. "I don't know how you convinced my boss to fire me, but I won't let this go quietly."
"Yes, you will," I say, squaring up with him. "You didn't have to do things this way, Drew. You could have offered that passenger a voucher, or asked Sally to apologize, or at the very least, talked to us! Instead you jumped straight to blackmailing Sally to make your job easier."
Sally is giving me a look of pure disbelief. She wipes her eyes that are welling with tears. "Filia..."
I poke Drew in the chest; he recoils. "You didn't do any of this for the passengers. You did it for your ego. You don't deserve this job. Get out of here."
He puffs up his chest as if he plans to spit some counter argument. A big hand settles on my shoulder; Marco. Drew looks up at him, wilting under the bigger man's aura of dominance.
Without another word, Drew half-sprints, half-jogs through the airport. He vanishes into the crowd.
"Do you think he'll try and get back at us for this?" I ask.
"No," Marco huffs. "He's a coward. No one with a backbone would do what he did to your friend."
Sally perks up, facing me with wide, tear-filled eyes. She opens her mouth, shuts it, considers what she wants to say thenhrows her arms around me as she gives me a massive hug. "Filia! Thank you so much!"
"Don't thank me," I laugh dryly. "It's my fault this happened to you."
"No! Not at all! I made the decision to spill that wine."
"Sure, but you were trying to help me."
Releasing me, she smiles at Marco while arching her brows. "Guess it worked, huh?"
I must be pink from my forehead to my throat. Marco chuckles, his hand gripping my middle. "Yes, it worked."
"I should thank you, too," she says to him. "You did something to get him fired, right? Filia doesn't have that kind of pull."
Marco shrugs dismissively. "A guy like Drew would have been fired eventually. His nature is too toxic to avoid it."
"Probably," she agrees. Sally beams at me. "This is great. I bet Marco could get you your job back, too!"
A sensation like rocks grinding together moves through my insides. "I...hadn't thought about that." She's right. If he has the connections to get Drew out the door, surely he can get me back in.
"Yes," Marco says clearly. "I can do that."
"Amazing!" Sally gushes. "Filia! That's great news!"
"Yeah," I reply. it comes out...softly.
Marco blinks at me, but Sally doesn't pick up on my uncertainty. She checks her phone, then looks around the gate we're at. "I have to get back to work. Give me a call when you know you'll be back, Filia. Thanks again. Bye!" She hurries back to the plane.
"We should go, too," I say, moving away from Marco. "Your flight to Colorado is soon."
"I have enough time to drive you to your apartment first. My flight isn't for another five hours."
"I can take an Uber."
"No way. I already booked a car."
"You're just on top of everything, huh?" I ask quietly.
We don’t say much as we head to baggage collection and gather our bags.. We make our way quietly to the car rental counter andMarco picks up a keyfob from the counter, then we make our way outside and approach a gorgeous, bright yellow Mustang. He loads our things in the trunk and we slip inside.
"What's your address?" he asks me.
I tap it into the GPS app on the car's screen. "It's not far from here. I got the place so I'd be near the airport."
"That makes sense."
It did, but does it now?
Our quiet stalemate continues as we pull out onto the freeway. The drive flies by. Not even LA traffic slows us down. Marco parks his car outside the front of my apartment complex. It's a rare duplex, the lower level rented out by the landlord's son. I've never seen the guy–– partly because I'm gone a lot, but also, I think he's the type of kid who lives off his father's income while he tries to become "famous" out here.