Page 2 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Pilot
“The customer is always right, even when they’re being a complete jackass,” he finished with a grin.
“Exactly.Now follow my lead.”
The SUV moved across the tarmac before stopping aggressively next to us, just like the man who emerged from it.Tanner Roberts.He was taller than his magazine photos suggested, his dark hair perfectly styled despite the early hour.His scowl, however, matched every tabloid snapshot I’d ever seen.
Under a thick black down jacket, he wore a light blue tailored shirt with no tie and the top two buttons undone.Even with his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, he scanned the airstrip with clear disdain.
I approached with my brightest smile and extended my hand.“Hi, I’m Felicity Foster, your pilot for today.”
He removed his sunglasses, and his deep brown eyes barely flickered toward my outstretched hand before returning to his phone as he brushed past me.“Let’s get this over with.”
“Mr.Roberts,” I called after him, maintaining my professional smile.“Standard safety protocol requires a brief pre-flight orientation.”
He turned, one eyebrow arched imperiously.“I’ve flown private jets since before you had a pilot’s license.Skip it.”
I stepped closer, forcing a smile on my face in spite of his gloomy attitude.“Company policy, sir.I’d be happy to abbreviate it for someone of your extensive experience.”
His jaw ticked with annoyance.“Fine.The exit’s there, oxygen masks drop down, and I buckle my seatbelt.Orientation complete.”
“Perfect!”I chirped, secretly enjoying how my cheerfulness seemed to grate on him.“And in the extremely unlikely event of a water landing—”
“I’ll use the billionaire special and swim to shore using stacks of hundred-dollar bills as flotation devices,” he cut in.
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.“That’s not in our safety manual, but I’ll make a note of it.”
His eyes narrowed, clearly unused to being laughed at.“Are we done?”
“For now, Mr.Roberts.”I gestured toward the cabin.“Your flying experience awaits,” I said before following him toward the plane.Mom’s face flashed in my mind, her gentle smile when I visited, how she sometimes remembered my name.For her, I could tolerate one grumpy billionaire.
Inside the cabin, Tanner dropped into one of the cream leather seats with the stiffness of someone expecting discomfort despite the luxury.His jaw clenched as he watched me complete my final preparations.
I slid into the cockpit and pulled out my pendant, pressing it to my lips in my pre-flight ritual.
“Superstitious nonsense,” he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.
I tucked the pendant away under my collar and focused on the controls.Some people didn’t understand the comfort of routine, the power of believing in something.Their loss.
“We’re cleared for takeoff.Sit tight, Mr.Roberts!”I announced, making sure to inject extra cheer into my voice.
The engines roared to life beneath my hands, the vibration traveling up my arms.It was a familiar sensation that never failed to thrill me.The Cessna responded to my touch like an extension of my body, climbing smoothly into the morning sky.The airstrip fell away beneath us as we ascended into the clear blue.
I leveled us off at cruising altitude, checking our flight path.Perfect conditions, minimal wind resistance.We’d make excellent time.
Tanner was silent in the cabin.If I turned around, I imagined that I would find him gazing out the window with an unreadable expression.His fingers would drum against his thigh, and the small action would be the only sign of his apparent discomfort.
“So, Mr.Roberts, what brings you to Angel Spring?”I asked, attempting to ease the tension.
“Business,” he replied curtly.“That’s all you need to know.”
Well, that certainly killed the conversation.I adjusted our heading slightly, unfazed by his abruptness.I’d dealt with difficult passengers before, though rarely ones with such sculpted jawlines and sharp cheekbones.
“Well, I’ve heard that it’s a beautiful place,” I continued brightly.“You couldn’t pick a more idyllic spot for business.”
Tanner responded with a grunt that seemed to require minimal movement of his perfectly formed lips.I heard him rummage around, and then the sound of him typing on a laptop keyboard, the universal motion that signaled our conversation was over.
I returned my attention to the controls, letting silence fill the cabin.Some people preferred quiet, and I could respect that, even if my natural instinct was to fill awkward silences with chatter.
The Cessna cut through the sky, smooth as silk.Up here, with clouds beneath me and endless blue above, I found the peace that eluded me on the ground.No medical bills, no heart-wrenching visits where Mom looked at me with blank confusion.Just me and the sky.And today, one grouchy billionaire.
