Mission: Out of Control by Susan May Warren Page B

into the mirror. Thanks, sis.
    The flight attendant had begun to read off the passenger instructions as she slipped back into her aisle, climbing over Brody to get to her window seat.
    â€œListen,” he whispered, “we need to come to some agreement here.”
    She buckled her seat belt, cinching it down, and grabbed Pride and Prejudice . “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    He made a face and shook his head. Ha. She could recognize frustrated when she saw it. Another week, tops, and he’d go packin’.
    â€œRonie, you win. I quit.”
    Huh? Already? She turned to him, hating suddenly the feeling of loss. Okay, this had been way too easy. “I win?”
    â€œI can’t keep up with your disguises. And you clearly don’t want to let me in on your life. I mean, it would have been nice to know that Lyle was going on this trip with us.”
    She’d seen him back in business class, with Leah, still head-down in his game. “I’m sorry. He was a last-minute addition.”
    â€œBut one I should have known about. I’m not a bad guy—I get that you want to take him with you. We just need to work on our communication. I’m not the guy who’s going to stand in your way. I’m just going to make sure you’re alive when you get there.”
    Brody had pretty eyes. She hadn’t really noticed them before—a dark green, almost, with flecks of hazel inside. And he smelled good, too. Like Old Spice cologne. She’d actually noticed the flight attendant’s gaze rest on him as he’d lifted her bag into the overhead.
    He filled out that black T-shirt pretty well, too.
    Not that she was looking. Because, contrary to hisbelief, he would stand in her way. At least once he found out what this trip was really about.
    Still, maybe she could appease him a bit. Get him to lower his guard, offer an olive branch. “Maybe you’re right. I have been giving you the dodge, haven’t I?”
    â€œA little. And really, you should be a spy or something with the way you can slip into a room unnoticed.”
    A spy. She tried to stay calm, not let herself give anything away. If he only knew… Still, she let a little smile escape. “Thanks. I spent years perfecting that move at my father’s dinner parties. Savannah and I—” She sucked in a breath. “I was always trying to get my hands on a glass of champagne. Until, of course, I succeeded, and managed to throw up all over my Christmas dress. Hate the stuff. I don’t drink.”
    But his smile had dimmed on her Savannah slip. She swallowed past a boulder in her throat. No, please. “What are you listening to?” She reached out for his iPhone and she could have hugged him—okay, not really, but he did win points when he released it to her. She scrolled through his playlist. “Stevie Ray Vaughan, BB King, Otis Rush, Eric Clapton…and Big Joe Turner? You got a great mix of blues here.”
    He seemed to consider her for a moment. “I was listening to Texas Flood on the flight from D.C.”
    â€œI’m more of a BB King fan, although I love the cover song for Texas Flood . I have the live version on my phone. But I’m more into the original blues. In my other life, I’m Bessie Smith. Or Billie Holiday.” She handed him the phone. “I have to admit, I’d never peg you for a jump blues fan.”
    â€œThat’s more for fun.” He turned the phone off. “Bessie Smith?”
    â€œMy mother had an album. We listened to it all the time when we rummaged through her closet. Savannah…” What was her problem? Why couldn’t she seem to get her sister out of her brain? Or her vocabulary? She sighed, letting the sentence play out. “She had a great blues voice. I can still hear her—‘Trouble, trouble, I’ve had it all my days; it seems like trouble going to follow me to my