Page 1 of Chasing You

chapter one

MILES

PRESENT

The soundof metal scraping on wood echoes through the room as I pull out a small chair to sit in front of the chief of Everglades Airways.

The air felt thick out in the hallway where I waited for someone to call me in, but it feels even harder to inhale now that I’m sitting in the quiet room.

My knee begins to bob up and down under the table; it’s not every day you get called into the chief’s office. My anxiety tumbles in my stomach like a dirty load of laundry.

I don’t get it often—anxiety, only when I am left in the dark about something. I hate the not knowing. And I have no idea why I’m here.

“I won’t be a second, Miles,” the chief says. He is writing something down in his notebook that sits on the table between us, his eyes glued to the page, and it only makes me feel worse. I find my eyes surveying the room, looking for something else to focus on.

They catch on the gigantic Everglades logo pasted on the wallbehind the chief, the blue and green hues perfectly representing the Everglades in Florida. The owner named the airline after his late wife, who dragged him there every year. Apparently, she loved alligators.

My eyes continue their journey, snagging on that same logo at the top of the notebook Chief Jones is writing on. It’s even wrapped around the pen in his grasp.

I try to read what he’s writing; maybe it will give me some idea as to why I’m here. But it just looks like upside-down scribbles to me, his handwriting messy like he’s rushing. I’ve seen that logo more than I’ve seen my own reflection in the last nine years.

“Okay,” Jones says, laying the pen down and meeting my gaze with a warm smile on his face. “Good morning, Miles.”

“Good morning, sir.”

“You look nervous,” he says, that smile growing.

“Should I be?” I ask, my palms sweaty. I try to subtly rub them on my jeans without him noticing.

He laughs, the sound deep but comforting. “Not at all. I wanted to talk to you today about your progression.”

“Oh.” That’s not what I was expecting.

“You’ve been First Officer for six years now, Miles. I didn’t realize how long it had been until your captain pointed it out.”

I never let myself forget just how long I've been in this position. Six years is a long time to be second in command of an aircraft. It’s a long time to co-pilot for the captain while wishing that job could be mine.

I’ve been bidding for a captain’s position for a while, but some part of me wondered if it was a lost cause, if I should just accept that this is where I’m at. But whenever I thought of letting it go, my father’s voice would echo in my mind and I would shake away the doubt.

The chief sits forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the dark wood. “Some days it feels like you’ve been with us for over a millennium and others like you just started fresh out of the academy yesterday.”

I just chuckle, my nerves snatching my ability to speak. It was only four years ago that I was essentially forced to take a break from this job. My captain at the time thought I was working myself to the bone, and I was, getting in extra flying hours when I was off the clock. But that didn’t mean I needed a forced break. It just meant I loved to fly, I always have.

The chief’s eyes narrow at my lack of response. “Captain Williams is retiring,” he says. “He wants to spend more time with Martha after her diagnosis last month.”

Williams is one of our most senior pilots at Everglades—and my captain. But his retirement doesn’t come as a surprise after he told us last month his wife had been diagnosed with lung cancer.

“You can probably do the maths, but that leaves a captain’s spot open,” his dark eyes are trained on mine, “and I want you to fill it.”

Relief floods every corner of my mind. I got there. I did it. Yet, excitement doesn’t rattle my bones, and pride doesn’t swell in my chest. I never really feel those emotions in the wake of my achievements, only relief.

It almost feels wrong, receiving a promotion because something terrible is happening to someone. It feels like I’m benefiting from someone else’s misfortune. But that doesn’t stop the itch that has me wanting to reach out and grab the opportunity from where it sits on the table between us. I need this promotion.

The chief tips his head in my direction. “And look, I know you have your leave coming up for your sister’s wedding, so I thought you could officially start when you get back. If that’s something you are interested in, of course,” he says with a raised brow.

A flicker of doubt enters my mind, but I shake it off. Being captain means more airtime. More airtime means more time away from the rest of the world and all of the expectations that are waiting for me on solid ground. Not that it will be so much of an issue now, not once I’m captain.

“I’m interested, sir.” My mind floods with the image of mymother’s bright smile, the one I know will beam at me when I tell her about this. There is nothing she loves more than success.

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