5
Smith sat in his seat to the rear of the Calloway private jet, looking out at the clouds and brooding. He refused to look at Cameron, who was sitting in a rear-facing seat closer to the front, reading a Parisian guidebook and pointedly ignoring him.
He’d arrived on the tarmac hoping that she might rethink her argument, that she might not show up at all. Yet as soon as he had climbed the stairs of the private jet, he’d seen her putting her personal things in the overhead bin.
She was wearing the same kind of outfit that would fit in at the office, a modest light blue dress with little triangles printed all over it. And of course she was wearing stockings with garters, which he saw when she checked the overhead bin for a blanket.
He’d trudged on the plane without a word. He could feel
