“Jake, please. I’m trying here.”
“Why not Evan? He’s as despicable and morally twisted as you.”
“Exactly,” he said. “He’s just like me and we’ve already discussed why you’re the better fit.”
“Even if I was stupid enough to accept anything from you, how do you plan on explaining handing over your airline to a random stranger? You only have one son, remember?”
“I’d come clean.”
“About your first wife as well?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I would tell everything. So, is that a yes to my offer?”
“It’s a hell no. I appreciate the offer, though. If you don’t mind, I have a flight to France in a few hours. I wish you and Evan well.”
“You said you’d honor a dying man’s wish. This is mine, Jake. This is what I want, and I also don’t want to die with you hating me.”
“You’ve lived with it all these years. Shouldn’t make that much of a difference when you’re six feet under.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’m dying?” He looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. “What disease it is at least?” What symptoms?”
“Doing so would imply that I cared.” I motioned for the check. “Congratulations on the success of the completed merger. I wish you nothing but the best, before you die, that is.”
“I know that goddamn book is about you,” he said, hissing. “I know that girl is referring to her relationship with you.”
“Then that makes two of us.” I spotted the waitress following my dad’s ‘Hold off on the check’ signal instead of mine.
“Your brother and I covered all the tracks. He was the one who put you two on so many similar flights.”
“Are you expecting a thank you?”
“I’m expecting some consideration. I’m covering for you in a lot of ways and I would like something in return. Would it kill you to at least consider it?”
“No. That answer will always be the same.” I stood up. “By the way, out of pure curiosity, how many people have FCEs at your airline?”
“Just you.”
“Stop bullshitting me.”
“It’s true,” he said. “Just you. A few people have ECFs, which are Executive Clearance Forms. It means they’re high up and untouchable unless they do something heinous. I think HR just assumed the FCE was the same thing.”
“And what exactly does FCE stand for?”
“Future CEO of Elite.”
I stepped away from the table and walked away. I rushed back to my car and cranked the engine, quickly speeding away.
I had the sudden urge to call Gillian and talk to her about the meeting with my father, but I suppressed it; she was still a disappointment, just like everyone else.
Gate C50
Jake
In-flight --> France
I stared out the windscreen of the plane, unsure as to whether I was coming or going. Everything from last week to this evening had been a blur, and I needed a break. After I made my return trip on this route, I was going to request a month of personal leave.
“Captain Weston?” A low, familiar voice asked, interrupting my thoughts. “Captain Weston?”
“Yes, Ryan?”
“Um…We’re clear for takeoff, sir. We’ve been clear for three minutes. If we sit here any longer, control is going to think something is wrong.”
“Right…” I put my hand on the control, driving the plane forward—staring straight ahead. This time, there was no adrenaline rush, no release of anxiety.
I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I just sat still as the plane coasted through the clouds for hours, wishing I could somehow re-do the past few months of my life.
“Can I trust you alone for twenty minutes?” I asked him, unbuckling my seatbelt. “I need a Coke.”
“Why can’t you just ask one of the flight attendants to bring you one?”
“Yes or no, Ryan.” I rolled my eyes. “Can I fucking trust you for twenty minutes or not?”
“You can trust me.”
I couldn’t trust him. I left the cockpit and stepped into the relief pilot’s space, letting him know I was stepping away for twenty minutes. I walked straight to the galley and unlocked one of the drink cases. I pulled out the first two drawers, but there was no Coke in sight. There was everything else except Coke.
“Old habits dies hard, huh?” The sound of Miss Connors’ voice made me turn around.
“I guess so. Where is my Coke?
“With me.” She smiled and opened a different compartment, taking out two Cokes and handing them to me. “I moved them all once I realized you were going to be flying with me.”
“How mature.”
“Thank you.” She laughed and leaned against the wall. “Has anyone figured out you’re the guy in the book?”
“What book?”
“Funny.” She rolled her eyes. “Did you know that she called me ‘The Hawk’ behind my back all this time?”
“Yes. Why?”
“No reason.” She shrugged. “I actually liked that part. I could’ve done without knowing all the disgusting filthy things you two did in layover cities though. And did you really have sex in the bathroom in-flight? Please tell me she made that part up…”
An image of Gillian leaning against the door and fucking me as we flew over Paris suddenly crossed my mind.
“She made that part up,” I said.
“I knew it was true.” She winked at me and handed me another Coke. “Do you want your dinner at seven?”
“Eight is fine.”
She patted my shoulder and walked away, leaving me alone. I started to call after her to ask if she’d spoken to Gillian lately, but the plane suddenly began to shake violently and the seatbelt sign flashed on.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.” Ryan’s voice came over the speakers and the plane swayed violently to the left. “We’re experiencing an unforeseen mechanical issue with one of our engines right now. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”
The plane swayed to the right and the passengers’ fearful murmurs became louder with each second that passed by. Glasses from the first class cabin shattered onto the floor, and the overhead bins at the back of the plane flew open, forcing luggage to topple into the aisle.
I braced myself against the wall and made my way back to the cockpit. “What the hell is happening, Ryan?” I asked. “What mechanical issue?”
“If I knew, I would’ve said specifically what it was.” He was sitting in my seat, his hands nervously tapping the controls. “It’s the storm ahead, see? I just thought I would say mechanical issue instead of tropical storm. Sounds better to the passengers and makes them feel safer, don’t you think?”
Jesus Christ…
“Just call control and ask to climb,” I said flatly, taking his seat as the plane continued to shake.
“You should know the answer to this issue after finally passing all those simulator sessions.” I waited for him to make the call, but he simply sat there, tapping the buttons. “Ryan, call control and ask to climb.”