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Callie
The flight moved along as planned. The client seemed happy, and that kind of satisfaction was what Hera Aviation needed for referrals. Those would be the lifeblood of their business.
Mr. Young’s cologne lingered in the cockpit long after him, the woodsy scent one she’d smelled before, but couldn’t place where. Familiar and comforting.
“Liam seems like a nice guy,” Jonathan said while completing his pre-flight check. He might be more anal retentive than Callie was with his double-checking and triple-checking. “And good looking, too.” His eyebrows peaked.
“And straight?” She meant it to be more of a statement, but it came out as a question.
Not that Jonathan was a gay litmus test, but Callie didn’t assume anything about anyone, unlike Mr. Young’s erroneous belief about her job on the plane hadn’t changed her theories about him … too much.
Being a woman in a traditionally man’s field had tried her patience and tolerance more than once. She did enjoy watching Mr. Young squirm a little after Paul made his announcement as to her rank and company position. Of course, she probably could’ve introduced herself as “Captain Laurel” but what fun was there in that?
But maybe Liam was more interested in Jonathan.
Jonathan smirked. “Definitely straight. The way he looked at you like you were an ice cream cone he’d like to lick…” Jonathan whistled.
“Ew!” Callie shoved Jonathan’s shoulder.
He pretended she’d hurt him. “Maybe this could be a little Mexico escape for you, boss?”
That couldn’t happen. Business was business. Pleasure was pleasure. This was all business. The two didn’t cross paths in her mind. Plus, with the storm coming, better to get back in the air as soon as possible. Safety ranked number one on her list of priorities.
Checking a few gauges and controls, she shook her head. “The plan is to land. Then Liam will get his brother to the airport in less than two hours, and we’ll leave after refueling. Maximum of four hours we’ll be back in the air.”
There would be no time for escaping anything or escaping to anything. Sam needed to get back home. Her heart clenched for the family, and she had to take a few seconds to collect herself. This mission brought back memories she didn’t want to forget but might turn on her at any second.
Her focus and determination to make this day happen was a testament to her father’s belief in her. He’d been there for her no matter what and encouraged her every day of his cut-short life. And now her dream of a personal private jet company had become a reality without him. Memories slithered up her back and into her brain. The ghosting recollections of her father comforted her most days, and today she felt like he was right there beside her.
We’ll get Sam back to his family. That’s where he belongs.
She needed to collect herself. “Be right back.” Callie stood and straightened her jacket to head to the restroom at the back of the plane.
In the main cabin, Mr. Young thumbed through a magazine. Meg had prepared the staff with the tidbits of info to create conversation. Meg stood in the back galley talking to Paul and gave the supportive thumbs-up. This trip was off to a good start, but now that Callie was standing, she couldn’t wait to get back into the air. There was safety behind the control wheel. There was action. When they were on the ground, it was unpredictable, and she had been feeling lost after Trent. She’d thought he was forever, but it was better this way. She could focus on the company.
Callie stopped as Liam’s face stayed stoic. His silhouette was regal. An oblong face. Bushy brows that were trimmed, but not manicured. Large lips that she could imagine were like two pillows, welcoming and soft. His blue eyes, like a peacock, deep blue, almost teal, lifted from examining the magazine.
She stared for longer than she would admit to herself. He smiled, and his brows rose.
After straightening her jacket, she said, “Just a quick update. We’re preparing for push back from fuel any minute now. Wanted to make sure you’re getting the VIP experience Hera Airline is striving for.”
“My favorite magazines and homemade toffee? I’m in heaven.” He closed the magazine and set it off to the side.
“That’s great to?—”
“Moving … hold on!” The declaration from the cockpit came too late.
The plane jerked backward, and Callie fought to maintain balance. She tried to grab for the back of the chair to stop her forward, gawky motion but instead grabbed Mr. Young’s shoulder and boob-planted into his face.
“Mphf,” he mumbled, the heat from his mouth brushing over her skin like a blowtorch. She tried to maneuver away, but she only accomplished smothering him. His hands grabbed her waist and spun her until her ass planted firmly in his lap.
And now she was giving him a lap dance.
“Oh, my God. I’m so … crap—” Callie flailed, trying to recover and move off his lap, but it was no use. Her feet were in the air, her body crushed to his. Through all of it, she recognized the outline of a penis in her left butt cheek, and she was both horrified and highly impressed.
And completely and utterly mortified.
In any other setting, she might be laughing and taking a moment to enjoy being in a handsome man’s arms, but not their first client. Even so, she calmed her awkward movements, relishing the feeling of his warm body against hers for a few moments. The worst was done; she might as well just resign to what had happened.
