Page 62 of Wild Card 13

I barely looked up.

Then I froze.

Lucy stepped onto the plane.

For a second, my brain completely stopped working.

Not because I hadn't seen her lately.

I had.

Three or four times a week at minimum since the blowup in her office. Hallways. Meetings. Arena offices. Occasionally standing outside Sarah's office looking like she was actively questioning every career choice she'd ever made.

That wasn't new anymore.

The surprise was seeing her here. On the plane. Traveling with the team.

Inmyworld. Or at least the version of it I'd spent the last eight years living inside.

Lucy paused near the entrance while one of the travel coordinators handed her a folder.

Her dark auburn curls fell over one shoulder. A cream sweater disappeared beneath a charcoal blazer. Slim black trousers. Practical boots.

Professional.

Controlled.

Composed.

The exact opposite of how I suddenly felt.

"What?" Jonah asked from across the aisle.

I realized I'd stopped chewing and my mouth was slack open. "Nothing," I choked as I forced a dry, large bite to go down.

His eyes narrowed.

I pointed at Marco. "He's talking again."

"Fair."

Across the cabin, Marco was still speaking. Nobody appeared to know what about. Not even Marco.

Lucy thanked the coordinator, accepted a folder, and started moving down the aisle.

Every conversation within ten feet of her immediately shifted. Not because anybody was intimidated. Because people liked her, a little too much for my taste.

A few weeks ago she'd barely known where half the offices were. Now equipment staff waved. Operations personnel greeted herby name. Keith trusted her. Sarah trusted her. Hell, my coach trusted her.

She fit.

I hated how much that realization bothered me.

Lucy stopped beside Bea's seat. The two women exchanged a few quiet words. Bea looked exhausted. Alois looked like he would rather have been punched than participate in office chitchat.

Business as usual.

Then Lucy continued down the aisle.