Chapter 2 — Layover Sparks

Emily

The crew hotel lounge in Paris hummed with subdued chatter, an occasional clink of glasses, and bursts of laughter that seemed to ripple through the dimly lit room. The faint scent of polished wood and citrus lingered in the air. Emily hesitated at the entrance, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. The scene before her—a casual mix of colleagues unwinding and mingling—felt like a world apart from the efficient, structured environment of the plane. She scanned the room, her gaze briefly catching on Captain Jack Lawson, leaning casually against the bar in a leather jacket. His laugh rolled like low thunder, drawing every eye his way, including hers.

She immediately looked away, her chest tightening with irritation. No one should be that comfortable, that effortless. Socializing wasn’t her strong suit to begin with, and Jack’s presence only made her feel more out of place. What am I even doing here? she thought, glancing toward the exit.

“Come on,” Sarah urged, tugging at her wrist with a grin as bright as the polka-dot scarf tied playfully around her neck. “You’re not backing out now. You work too hard, Emily. One drink won’t kill you.”

Emily sighed, her gaze still lingering on the doors. “I don’t think anyone here will care if I’m not around.”

“That’s why you need to be here,” Sarah countered, her teasing tone laced with warmth. “We all adore your professionalism, but people should see you can have fun, too. You’re not just spreadsheets and safety briefings, you know.”

Before she could protest, Sarah looped her arm through Emily’s and steered her into the room. Emily’s grip tightened on her bag strap as she smoothed her already immaculate blouse, trying to shed the traces of her professional armor. Her gaze darted around the lounge, noting the easy camaraderie of her colleagues, the way their laughter came effortlessly. It was a stark contrast to the rigidity she clung to every day. She felt conspicuous, like an anomaly in a sea of casual energy.

“See?” Sarah said brightly, unbothered by Emily’s obvious discomfort. “Not so bad, right? Just relax. Let’s get you a drink.”

Reluctantly, Emily allowed Sarah to guide her to the bar. The closer they got, the more aware she became of Jack’s presence. His piercing blue eyes caught hers as she approached, and a slow, maddeningly self-assured smile spread across his face.

“Well, well,” Jack said, tipping his glass in her direction. “Didn’t think I’d see you here. Let me guess—Sarah dragged you in?”

Emily straightened her shoulders, her voice clipped but polite. “She can be very persuasive.”

“Persuasive, huh?” Jack set his glass down, his smirk deepening. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who needed convincing. I figured you’d jump at the chance to show us all how to properly unwind.”

Emily’s mouth twitched, the faintest hint of a smile threatening to break through. “Well, I don’t see a presentation on workplace professionalism happening here, so I suppose I’ll stay—briefly.”

Sarah laughed, stepping in before the tension could build. “Oh, Jack, don’t even try it. Emily’s sharp enough to cut you down in three words flat.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Is that so? I might have to test that theory.”

Emily crossed her arms, her gaze steady. “I didn’t come here to spar with you, Captain.”

“Good,” Jack said, his smirk softening into something almost sincere. “Then let me buy you a drink. Call it a peace offering.”

Emily hesitated, her eyes flicking to Sarah, who gave her an exaggerated look of encouragement. Against her better judgment, she nodded. “Fine. One drink.”

Jack signaled the bartender. “A glass of wine for the lady,” he said, his voice low and smooth. Then, turning back to her, he added, “Do you ever turn it off—the whole hyper-professional thing?”

Emily’s narrowed eyes met his. “Do you ever turn it on? The professionalism, I mean.”

The group around them chuckled, but Jack leaned forward slightly, his expression more amused than offended. “Touché. But for the record, I take my job very seriously. I just don’t believe in letting it consume me.”

Her wine arrived, and she took a sip, savoring the tartness as she considered her reply. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of coasting through life on charm alone.”

For a brief moment, something shifted in Jack’s expression. His confidence cracked, just slightly, revealing a flicker of something Emily couldn’t quite name. Doubt? Vulnerability? Whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“You think that’s all there is to me?” he asked, his voice quieter now, though still tinged with amusement.

Emily hesitated, feeling suddenly off-balance. “I don’t know you well enough to say,” she replied, her tone measured. “But first impressions matter.”

“And what’s your impression so far?” Jack leaned in slightly, his teasing tone offset by the sharpness in his gaze.

Before she could answer, Sarah stepped between them with a mischievous grin. “Alright, break it up, you two. This is supposed to be a fun night, not a debate club.”

Jack chuckled, leaning back as if in surrender. “Fair enough. Truce.”

Emily nodded curtly, though her heart was racing. There was something about him—his confidence, his ease, his ability to needle her just enough to shake her composure—that left her feeling unmoored. She hated it. And yet, she couldn’t quite deny the spark of intrigue that simmered beneath her irritation.

The conversation shifted as Sarah drew the group into a lively debate about the best layover destinations. Emily tried to participate, but her attention kept drifting back to Jack. Despite herself, she noticed details she’d have preferred to ignore: the way the dim lighting softened the planes of his face, the way his laugh seemed to ripple through the room, drawing people in effortlessly.

“Earth to Emily,” Sarah teased, nudging her shoulder. “You’re awfully quiet. Don’t tell me you’re zoning out already.”

Emily forced a smile. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, redirecting her attention to the group. She was determined to shake off whatever strange spell Jack seemed to cast. But he wasn’t done with her yet.

Throughout the evening, Jack found small ways to draw her out—asking her opinion on absurd hypotheticals, teasing her about her perfectly tied bun, even challenging her favorite coffee brand. Each interaction left her flustered, though she refused to let him see it.

Finally, she’d had enough. “I think I’m calling it a night,” she announced, setting her half-empty wine glass on the bar.

“Leaving already?” Jack asked, his tone light but his gaze steady. “I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

Emily gave him a tight smile. “Some of us have early mornings.”

Jack’s smirk returned, but there was an edge to it now. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to disrupt your perfectly planned schedule.”

His tone—mocking, challenging—pushed her over the edge. “Not everyone has the luxury of coasting through life, Lawson. Some of us actually have to work for what we want.”

The room went silent. Conversations faltered, and all eyes turned toward them. For the first time, Jack blinked, genuinely taken aback by the force of her words.

Sarah stepped forward, her voice light but firm. “Alright, I think that’s enough excitement for one night. Emily, let me walk you to your room.”

Emily didn’t wait for a response. She turned and strode out of the lounge, her heart pounding. In the quiet of the elevator, she fidgeted with the strap of her bag, replaying the evening in her mind. Why does he get to me so easily? Why do I care what he thinks? She hated the way his charm seemed to highlight her insecurities, drawing them into sharp focus.

By the time she reached her room, her anger had softened into something closer to regret. She dropped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. One drink, she thought bitterly. One drink, and Jack Lawson managed to get under my skin.

Tomorrow, she resolved, would be different. She would be calm, composed, untouchable. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.