Page 112 of Fly Boy
He tilts his head, a little condescending, as if I’m nothing more than a nuisance, storming into his office, expecting him to change his mind about his employees.
“Pippa, it's noble of you to take the blame, but…”
“I’m not taking the blame. It’s the truth,” I shout, frustration coating my voice. “I was the one who told him to make those flights. I was the one who told him to use our plane.”
His gray eyes, so similar to mine, narrow. “And why would you do that?”
“Because…” I hesitate as, for the first time in my life, I don’t know how my dad will react. After my mom died, he dated women half his age, and that wasn’t a problem for him. But this isn’t abouthim. It’s about me and my crossing the line with someone he employed.
I love you, Pippa.
“Pippa?” Dad prompts, giving me that look only parents have perfected. The all-knowing look. “Why would you ask him to make those flights?”
My lips part in realization. “You know.”
“Why don’t you tell me anyway,” he says, lacing his hands together and placing them over his stomach.
I take a deep breath, holding it until the burn becomes too much, and blurt, “Because Wyatt was coming to see me. Wyatt and I are together.”
You could hear a pin drop, his office is that quiet.
“And how long has this been going on for?”
He doesn’t sound mad, but I rush forward anyway, closing in on his desk, not wanting the space of his office between us when I tell him my darkest secret.
“Since November,” I admit, eyeing him for any reaction as he nods slowly. “But you already knew that?”
“I had my suspicions,” he says smugly. “I’m not dumb, Pippa. I could tell there had to be something going on. The way you both looked at each other was reason enough for me to think that.”
“But…?”I thought we were sneaky.
“Honey, you couldn’t have been more obvious than if you stared at that man with flashing pink heart glasses and a badge that saidI’m into my pilot.”
I grimace, feeling self-conscious as I stand in front of my father, a man who evidently can read me like a book.
“Oh god,” I groan, my palms heating when they hide my face.
Dad chuckles. “Yes, it was rather embarrassing to watch.”
“Urgh,stop talking.Please.”
His laughter tapers off, and he clears his throat. “Regardless, there were also flights to locationsyouwere at…” He gives me a chance to speak, but I stay quiet, hidden away behind my hands. “Was that diversion really because of bad weather?”
“Yes,” I say, uncovering my face with jerking movements, horrified that he’d even suggest that. “We weren’t even together then, and Wyatt would never make something like that up. If anything, he wanted to continue taking me back to Colorado, even if that meant driving because the airfield we had to leave the plane at was ‘too expensive.’” I air quote the last words, so he understands that Wyatt would never abuse his position like that.
He brings his clasped hands to his mouth, resting his elbows on his desk as he thinks. I don’t like that he’s not looking at me or that I can’t tell what’s going on in his mind, but with each passing second, my skin feels too tight on my bones.
“I wish you would have come to me. Both of you.”
I frown. “But you fired him anyway?”
“Because he lied. Because you lied. Because it’s a conflict of interest,” he says. “You understand dating an employee is a conflict of interest.”
“But he’s notmyemployee.” Even if I do joke about it.
“Yet anything I were to do for him moving forward, even something simple like the extended trip we did in France, which was more cost-effective than anything, would be deemed preferential treatment.” He looks at me sympathetically. “I can’t hire him back.”
“But…”
