First-Class Revenge of the Heiress

My childhood friend’s lover was a thug.

I was sitting in first class on my way back to the country when a blanket from the seat in front of me suddenly hit my leg.

The flight attendant hurried over and crouched down, her face full of apology.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. Miss Joelle says she likes it quiet and really can’t stand any noise around her.”

“She’s willing to pay 100 dollars to have you move to economy. Would that be okay?”

I set down my water glass, smiled faintly, and threw the blanket back hard.

“I’ll pay 101 dollars for her to move.”