Page 4 of On the Fly
“Who cares how it happened. I’m good at my job, and it was a nice salary increase over my previous position. He wasn’t looking to sleep with me. He even mentioned introducing me to one of his sons, but I told him I wasn’t in the market for a set-up.”
With her eyes closed, she didn’t see his mouth gape open at the absurdity of any of his brothers dating her. All of his family loved flying—two were pilots.
“But I’m not into older guys.” That was when her left eyelid cracked open. She assessed him closer before saying, “I’m not into guys at all so quit trying to sweet talk me.”
A pretty smile as big as California lit her face, a bubble of laughter followed shortly after.
She was insane and seemed to say those words for shock value more than any truth, but they worked and he took a mental step back and considered not firing her the first chance he got. “So social media means what?”
“It doesn’t surprise me that you don’t know social media. You don’t seem very sociable, but for the rest of us, it means any platform where people gather online.” The overhead ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign blinked on followed by the captain explaining they were preparing for their final approach. The rosy color leached from her cheeks, and her teasing abruptly ended as she mumbled to herself, “Oh fish sticks. Breathe, just breathe.”
“You’re fine. Calm down,” he said, offering his arm. She didn’t hesitate to grip his wrist. She was lost to him in her panic. He watched her concentrate on her breathing, drawing air in through her nose, releasing it between parted lips, which moved slightly as if reciting some sort of calming mantra. When the plane began its descent, she had no shame in her game. Her fingernails dug into his skin with her death-grip. Before they drew blood, he twisted his wrist and threaded their fingers together. She allowed the move and clutched his hand tightly. But then her fingernails dug into the flesh on the back of his hand, making him question his decision to assist her.
Why had he ever engaged with her?Please don’t let this be a representation of the next few days.
Chapter 3
Cell phone anchored between her shoulder and ear, Emma mouthed a thank-you to her cab driver then grabbed the handle on her suitcase and slid across the back seat. The traffic jam in the front drive of the hotel surprised her. Her cab driver barely had room on the street to let her out safely and definitely had no way to assist in exiting the vehicle.
To complicate matters, her stepmother, Patty, had chosen then to check up on Emma and make sure she hadn’t backed out on the travel plans. That conversation should have been quick and to the point, which was the only reason she’d accepted the call when she had. Big mistake. After a monologue on the wedding plans, Patty had transitioned to a discussion on the benefits of peonies over hydrangeas—or maybe it was the other way around. Emma had a hard time listening as she tugged her heavy suitcase behind her up the small mountain they called a front entrance. Okay, yes, for the benefit of the pity party she threw herself after having to listen to her stepmother wax on for over twenty minutes, she embellished a bit on the seriously significant uphill climb to the front doors of the hotel from street level.
“Emma, what’s that noise?” Patty sounded put out to be interrupted. Emma rolled her eyes as she dodged the large group of exceptionally pretty people all dressed in company approved Rora Airline merchandise as they exited the front doors at the same time she tried to enter. Then she saw the line at the front desk in the hotel’s lobby and nearly groaned out loud. There were at least six receptionists with lines ten deep of guests trying to register. With every non-essential—meaning they weren’t actively working a flight—remote employee flying in for the corporate town hall meetings this week, of course the hotel closest to the corporate offices would have an influx of guests. Emma had known that, but this…was a lot of people.
“No way.” Her shoulders slumped as another giggling group passed her by.
“Emma, did you hear me? Pay attention, dear. I’m bringing you the dress you’re to wear at the wedding. It matches the wedding party, so you won’t be an eyesore in the family pictures. I’m hanging up now to send the photo. I don’t know how to send it while I’m still on the phone. Call me back when you get it.” Patty didn’t wait for any acknowledgement before disconnecting.
Emma had wanted one last read through of her presentation before her scheduled meeting. They’d told her it was to bring the new owners up to speed, but she knew the truth. The presentation was really code for justifying her job to the company’s executive board. If she secured her position at the first meeting and they got behind her ideas, she’d have to come back to the hotel and prepare to give a similar presentation to the thousand or so employees gathered for the meetings tomorrow. She needed time to freshen up, change into the professional suit she’d brought, and appear sharp and together all in less than three hours. She had no time to wait in long lines.
Emma fumbled with her phone as she went through the steps in the hotel’s app to register remotely. She’d tried twice in the cab ride over and gotten error messages each time.
“Excuse me.” A bump from behind got her moving as her phone processed her newest request. She watched the spinning circle and took her place in the back of the line just in case the app rejected her again. Emma stared intently at the phone, willing it to give her access to her room. Error message.Dang. Her shoulders slumped. Then a notification popped up from her stepmother and she sighed.
She swiped away the notification to try the remote check-in again. Her dumb phone left the Hilton app and instead opened Patty’s text message, making Emma want to groan in frustration. But the picture might have been the only thing that could have taken her mind off her presentation and the long line ahead of her.
“Heaven help me.” Emma loved all things retro, but this dress looked like an eighties glam band had thrown up Queen Victoria’s court. No one should wear that much teal tulle, and if this was her dress—scaled back so as not to clash, mind you—she could only imagine what Julia’s poor bridesmaids must be wearing.
“I know, right?”
Emma looked over her shoulder to a guy fixated on his phone screen.
“The remote entry’s down today. They’re having problems.”
The dress had made her forget even that.
~~~
Ander stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up one wall of the conference room on Rora Airlines’ executive floor. He took a deep breath as he anchored a palm on the glass and tucked a hand in the pocket of his slacks. The latest in a line of department heads droned on behind him, the rest of the executive board paying attention and asking questions. The stacks of paperwork the executive team had foisted upon him when he’d arrived told a dismal picture, not that he hadn’t been aware already. He’d done his research beforehand. How had his father avoided the company’s financial issues becoming public knowledge? Avoided creditors banging on the door?
He sighed as he stared at the hotel down the street all decked out in the Rora Air colors. The annual town hall event had been scheduled a year in advance, so there was no stopping it. But how much had that cost the company?
He’d followed his gut instincts his whole life. They never failed to lead him in the right direction in business. And his gut churned with the need to sell, to put this bitch on the market and cut their losses. They would all do far better financially, with a hell of a lot less work, if they sold the airline.
Ander had gone straight from the airport to his first meeting, and he’d been sitting around this conference room all day as the current executive staff heard updates from the division heads and solidified what information they planned to share with the whole company at tomorrow’s presentations. His mom hadn’t been wrong. This was the best time to fly out and gather needed information without tipping anyone’s hand as to the family’s next course of action.
Why did his family have such a desire to keep this company afloat and family-owned? Emotions had no place in business. No matter how his father treated this company. Besides, his father hadn’t wanted any of them involved in the running of it, so why should they start now?
Ander took a deep breath and cleared his thoughts. Think reasonably. He couldn’t deny there was personal emotion bleeding into his desire to be finished with the airline. Perhaps more than a little, actually.
