system. She unhooked her five-point seatbelt and stood up. “Stef?” Charlotte had a perplexed look on her face. “Where are you going?” “To set up for the beverage service.” “Are you barmy? We’ll be getting takeoff clearance any second.” Stef glanced out the window in the exit door. They were on the taxiway, in line to take off. Charlotte put a hand on Stef’s arm. “I know the pinstriped drunk sitting in twelve-B keeps pushing the call button, but he’ll have to wait for his Jim Beam until we reach cruising altitude.” Stef could hear the British banker in row twelve, talking loudly to his seatmate. “Sit down, pet. Let Allen deal with him,” Charlotte said. Stef’s colleague Allen was strapped into the jump seat by the forward door. He was eyeing the sloshed passenger with prissy disdain. He caught Stef’s glance and rolled his eyes. Stef sat back down. The klieg-light sky looked so bright it was nauseating. She lowered the window shade and buckled up. The captain came over the P.A.
