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My mouth fell open like the top of an unzipped suitcase. A small smile played at the corners of the pilot’s mouth, but it wasn’t unkind.
“I’ll leave you here to wash up if you want,” he said. “Welcome aboard. Our flight to St. George, Bermuda will take about two hours.”
“Wait…our flight? Mr. Hunter wants me to go with him?”
“Those were my orders. Fly him and his assistant to St. George and back. That’s you, right?”
He waited for my response with a slightly curious expression.
“Yes, of course,” I said, realizing not for the first time how different this new job was going to be from anything else I had done before.
When he left, I looked around the room and exhaled. I didn’t really have to use the bathroom so I perched on the edge of the bed, not knowing what the heck to do next. I think I may have been there for over five minutes when I heard the pilot greet my boss as he boarded the plane.
“Hi, Nick. Great day for flying,” he said. Huh, I guess Nick wanted everyone to call him by his first name.
“Sure is, Joe,” I heard him reply. His deep base voice sent chills through me. I stood and walked out into the cabin.
“Hi,” I said, feeling suddenly shy. He was dressed way more casually than yesterday in a cream colored linen shirt and perfectly fitting khaki pants.
“Hi, yourself,” he said. “Ready to go to Bermuda?”
“Yes, sir. I mean Nick.”
“Good,” he said and turned to set his briefcase down. I swallowed nervously.
“But…um, can you tell me when we’re getting back? I need to call my mom so she won’t worry.” I blushed, knowing I sounded like a kid.
He looked at me and crossed his arms over his wide chest. His expression was inscrutable.
“You live with your mother?” he said.
“Yes. I take care of her. She’s not well.”
He gave a small nod and gazed off in the distance. His voice was tight.
“Sarah, I made plans to stay overnight. I have early morning meetings in St. George and I need you with me. Are you capable of handling the requirements of this job or not?”
I blinked and couldn’t speak for a minute. Then I found my voice.
“Nick. Like I said, I have a sick mother at home. I can’t fly out of the country and back on a whim.” God knows I needed this job, but his arrogance infuriated me. Why did rich guys like him think everything was so easy?
He turned to look at me. “Does she have a nurse?”
“She needs me,” I said slowly. “She needs me to make dinner and put out her pills.”
“And a nurse can’t do that?” he said.
“Sure!” I said, much louder than I intended. “For twenty-five dollars an hour that I don’t have, a nurse would do that and probably fold our laundry too!”
Awesome sauce. I just yelled at my boss on my first day of work. He stared at me in silence for a moment. I stood unable to move, waiting for him to tell me I was fired.
“I’ll make the arrangements,” he finally said softly. “Call your mom and let her know to expect someone at 6pm.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. With a satisfied smile, he took out his phone.
“Hi, this is Nick Hunter calling for Dr. Berg,” while waiting, he said, “Dave is the head of Lenox Hill.”
I lowered myself into one of the chairs, speechless. Lenox Hill was a private hospital in Manhattan that catered to the ultra-rich. In ten seconds, he arranged a private nurse who would take care of my mom while I was flying across the Atlantic Ocean to an island paradise.
