Page 13 of His Temptation
“It is,” I reply quickly.
“Oh.” A small smile forms before she bites her lip to suppress it.
“Why do you ask?” I ask her curiously.
“It’s just, in the meeting, I kept wondering why everyone was calling this wing a supercritical wing. I didn’t realize it was the name of the design. I didn’t understand what was so critical about it.”
The threat of a smirk makes me bite my inner cheek. “I guess it’s not the most creative name.”
We sit in silence for a moment as I watch the crew loading the luggage.
“Every flight matters. We’re not just selling planes, Miss Ricci. We’re selling freedom, possibility, power.”
She pulls out a pad of paper and begins to write.
“Stop writing. I didn’t bring you here to take notes. I brought you here to get an understanding. When you’re sitting in on those meetings, there’s so much more than ‘industry lingo’ going on. Every detail in this business matters. The routes, the timing, the fuel efficiency, the safety. Everything impacts the bottom line. And do you know what the board cares about?”
She shakes her head.
“I should say safety. God knows that’s what their answer would be, but it’s money. It’s my job to make sure we are as efficient as possible in every aspect of this business to provide the board with numbers that make them want to keep investing. Is this making sense?”
She gives me a quick nod of her head, letting me know she is following me.
“Good. Now for the fun part.”
I take out my phone and shoot a text message to a friend. He tells me what gate to meet him at.
“Follow me, Miss Ricci.”
“Kylie,” she says as we stand. “You can call me Kylie. I’d prefer it.”
“Very well. Follow me, Kylie.”
Now I’m agreeing to call her by her first name. I don’t do that. It feels oddly personal and wrong, but fuck if I’m going to stop. There’s just something different about her. As we walk, I catch a glimpse of her ass swaying in her skirt and look away quickly.
I wonder how old she is. She seems young and inexperienced. Not just lacking confidence in the job, but in life. I’ll have to check her file. I wouldn’t want to risk giving her the wrong impression and asking a personal question. We aren’t friends, and the last thing I need is for her to think we are.
We arrive at the gate where Dave is waiting.
I walk up to him and shake his hand. “Thanks for agreeing to this on such short notice.”
He slaps my shoulder. “Anything for you, my friend.”
Dave is an executive at the US Department of Transportation. I happen to play basketball with him and some of his buddies, and he owes me one.
“Dave, this is my assistant, Kylie.”
“Hello, Kylie. You must be a saint to survive working for this man.” He gives her a look that I’m all too familiar with.
He’s checking her out, and for some reason, it pisses me off.
“Well, it’s only been a couple of weeks. I wouldn’t grant me the title of saint just yet,” she says with an ease that I’ve never received.
Dave throws back his head and laughs. “Beautiful and funny. Killer combination.”
Before I can tell him to fuck off and stop flirting with my assistant, he motions for us to follow him. We go down a windingramp until he leads us out onto the tarmac. The wind instantly begins to blow on us as the sun hits our faces.
I reach out to put on my sunglasses to stop from being blinded by the rays.
