Turbulence
Page 47
I was still waiting for a time when the sex wouldn’t be so spectacular, an instance where it would only be ‘good,’ or maybe even average, but it was getting more intense every time.
Making sure the coffee was hot enough, I turned it on low, ready to start breakfast service. I opened the compartment where we kept the placemats, but Miss Connors stepped in front of me and slammed it shut.
“How are you on this lovely day today, Miss Taylor?” She asked, smiling.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m amazing.” Her smile didn’t waver. “I didn’t see you on the crew shuttle this morning, so I was quite surprised that you beat me to the airport for a change. Imagine my surprise when I arrived this morning and saw you already waiting patiently at the gate.”
“Yes, well...” I wasn’t sure where she was going with this. “On time is late, and early is on time. I caught the shuttle right before yours.”
“Oh, really?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “You know, that’s quite interesting because there was no shuttle before mine. Even if there was, I would’ve seen you catch it because I was in the lobby having coffee and a book at five this morning. If you came down, there’s no way I would’ve missed you.”
I said nothing.
“Furthermore,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “I actually went to your room at seven to make sure you were coming, so imagine how shocked I was when a housekeeping associate told me you never actually checked into your room the other day.”
I felt my face turning red, but I still didn’t say anything.
“So, I started thinking to myself. Well, Miss Taylor is definitely incompetent at times, and although I did see her argue with someone familiar at the gala weeks ago, there’s no way this young woman would risk her career over a pilot’s cock.” She shook her head. “There’s no way the front desk agent had the same girl in mind when he told me you turned in your room key shortly after checking in and was picked up by some ‘pilot guy.’ There’s no way, is there, Miss Taylor?”
I swallowed, unable to meet her gaze anymore.
“End it.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “End it today. I don’t care what type of stupid system of lust the two of you have going on, but if it continues past today, I’ll have you fired.”
“Miss Connors, I’m—”
She held up her hand. “I expected more from you. You can do much better than a goddamn pilot,” She rolled her eyes and walked away without another word, leaving me completely embarrassed.
***
Seconds after checking into my Los Angeles hotel, I got the hell away from Miss Connors and locked myself in my room. I plugged my laptop into the wall and sat at the desk, forcing myself to temporarily forget about her threats.
I googled “Flight Attendants Fired for Breaking Employee Fraternization Policy,” and several pages of results popped up. I clicked on each of the links, my heart sinking with each and every article. Of the twenty I read, eighteen of the incidents were from Elite Airways, but they were several years old. The more current articles were all quotes from executives, all of them saying a variation of, “That’s why our safety record is so high. Our flight employees are pure professionals. No other airline in the world has a policy like ours, but the proof is in the policy.”
Shit...
I closed all the browser windows and leaned back in my chair. I was going to have to find a way to end this; losing my job over sex wasn’t worth it, no matter how amazing it was.
Sighing, I got up and took a long shower—thinking through the past few months, tallying up all of our meet-ups. No matter how badly I wanted to believe that this could turn into something more, the only thing that improved between us was the sex. Our conversations were still on his terms, still unbalanced and tilted in favor of my reveals and his conceals. And the longer I continued to deny the fact that deep down, I did want more, the longer I would drag this out and potentially get hurt.
I stepped out of the shower and immediately scrolled down to Jake’s name in my phone. I typed my email and hastily hit send, not giving myself a chance to change my mind.
Gillian: We need to end this. Now. I’m sorry...
He didn’t respond.
And entire hour passed before I stopped staring at the screen and realized he wasn’t going to. Figuring silence was his easy way of accepting things, I opened my laptop once more and opened up a few new tabs.
Since I’d managed to go several weeks without giving in to my curiosity about Jake’s family, and we were now practically over, I had to know what he meant by Evan being his brother. Why he said it in a way that looked as if he hated to admit the fact.
I typed in “Evan Pearson” in one tab and “Elite Airways CEO Nathaniel Pearson” in another.
I clicked on the best picture of Nathaniel and enlarged it, raising my eyebrow as I noticed the similarities between him and his son, Evan. Then I pulled up a picture of Jake.
At first glance, there wasn’t much to compare—Nathaniel’s features were far softer and his hair in his younger years was a dark brown that complemented his full mustache. But his eyes—those bright blue and stunning irises were damn near identical to Jake’s.
So he couldn’t have been adopted...
I stared at the two of them for at least five minutes, wondering how the hell something like this had gone undiscovered for so long, how some opportunistic reporter hadn’t already spun the story to the tabloids at least. I was certain ‘family-oriented CEO fathered a secret son’ would’ve fetched a high price.
I made a cup of cheap hotel coffee and started to read over the short biography on his father’s ‘About the CEO’ page. Everything was exactly how I’d remembered it years before, all standing still in its fairy tale glory:
At six years old, Nathaniel Pearson was a young boy who only dreamed of being a pilot. Growing up poor, his parents were unable to afford lessons at the local glider school, so he learned how to build planes instead. After dropping out of high school at age fourteen, Pearson worked two jobs to help support his family, and eventually enrolled himself into flight school and became one of our country’s most decorated pilots.
After decades of service, he started Elite Airways, with the inaugural flight of a plane he helped design. However, the very first flight ended in fatality—killing his own wife, Sarah Irene, and severely injuring his only son, Evan.
Although Evan healed completely, Sarah succumbed to her injuries, forcing Nathaniel into years of depression. Amidst his heartache, Nathaniel vowed to make his airline the safest in the world and Elite has had no fatal crashes since.
He hopes to see this record continue.
I clicked on Evan’s profile, but his biography was far shorter, far less informational. It was simply a rehash of his university years and his love for flying. His picture was an older one of him in a navy blue pilot uniform.
Frustrated, I leaned back and played a YouTube video of him being interviewed several years ago. As the questions were asked and answered plainly, I started to think that whatever ties Jake had to him were maybe long lost, or that maybe he was the product of infidelity the family wanted to keep hidden. I read a few more articles and prepared to turn off the interview, but I heard Evan say something that caught me off guard.
Making sure the coffee was hot enough, I turned it on low, ready to start breakfast service. I opened the compartment where we kept the placemats, but Miss Connors stepped in front of me and slammed it shut.
“How are you on this lovely day today, Miss Taylor?” She asked, smiling.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m amazing.” Her smile didn’t waver. “I didn’t see you on the crew shuttle this morning, so I was quite surprised that you beat me to the airport for a change. Imagine my surprise when I arrived this morning and saw you already waiting patiently at the gate.”
“Yes, well...” I wasn’t sure where she was going with this. “On time is late, and early is on time. I caught the shuttle right before yours.”
“Oh, really?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “You know, that’s quite interesting because there was no shuttle before mine. Even if there was, I would’ve seen you catch it because I was in the lobby having coffee and a book at five this morning. If you came down, there’s no way I would’ve missed you.”
I said nothing.
“Furthermore,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “I actually went to your room at seven to make sure you were coming, so imagine how shocked I was when a housekeeping associate told me you never actually checked into your room the other day.”
I felt my face turning red, but I still didn’t say anything.
“So, I started thinking to myself. Well, Miss Taylor is definitely incompetent at times, and although I did see her argue with someone familiar at the gala weeks ago, there’s no way this young woman would risk her career over a pilot’s cock.” She shook her head. “There’s no way the front desk agent had the same girl in mind when he told me you turned in your room key shortly after checking in and was picked up by some ‘pilot guy.’ There’s no way, is there, Miss Taylor?”
I swallowed, unable to meet her gaze anymore.
“End it.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “End it today. I don’t care what type of stupid system of lust the two of you have going on, but if it continues past today, I’ll have you fired.”
“Miss Connors, I’m—”
She held up her hand. “I expected more from you. You can do much better than a goddamn pilot,” She rolled her eyes and walked away without another word, leaving me completely embarrassed.
***
Seconds after checking into my Los Angeles hotel, I got the hell away from Miss Connors and locked myself in my room. I plugged my laptop into the wall and sat at the desk, forcing myself to temporarily forget about her threats.
I googled “Flight Attendants Fired for Breaking Employee Fraternization Policy,” and several pages of results popped up. I clicked on each of the links, my heart sinking with each and every article. Of the twenty I read, eighteen of the incidents were from Elite Airways, but they were several years old. The more current articles were all quotes from executives, all of them saying a variation of, “That’s why our safety record is so high. Our flight employees are pure professionals. No other airline in the world has a policy like ours, but the proof is in the policy.”
Shit...
I closed all the browser windows and leaned back in my chair. I was going to have to find a way to end this; losing my job over sex wasn’t worth it, no matter how amazing it was.
Sighing, I got up and took a long shower—thinking through the past few months, tallying up all of our meet-ups. No matter how badly I wanted to believe that this could turn into something more, the only thing that improved between us was the sex. Our conversations were still on his terms, still unbalanced and tilted in favor of my reveals and his conceals. And the longer I continued to deny the fact that deep down, I did want more, the longer I would drag this out and potentially get hurt.
I stepped out of the shower and immediately scrolled down to Jake’s name in my phone. I typed my email and hastily hit send, not giving myself a chance to change my mind.
Gillian: We need to end this. Now. I’m sorry...
He didn’t respond.
And entire hour passed before I stopped staring at the screen and realized he wasn’t going to. Figuring silence was his easy way of accepting things, I opened my laptop once more and opened up a few new tabs.
Since I’d managed to go several weeks without giving in to my curiosity about Jake’s family, and we were now practically over, I had to know what he meant by Evan being his brother. Why he said it in a way that looked as if he hated to admit the fact.
I typed in “Evan Pearson” in one tab and “Elite Airways CEO Nathaniel Pearson” in another.
I clicked on the best picture of Nathaniel and enlarged it, raising my eyebrow as I noticed the similarities between him and his son, Evan. Then I pulled up a picture of Jake.
At first glance, there wasn’t much to compare—Nathaniel’s features were far softer and his hair in his younger years was a dark brown that complemented his full mustache. But his eyes—those bright blue and stunning irises were damn near identical to Jake’s.
So he couldn’t have been adopted...
I stared at the two of them for at least five minutes, wondering how the hell something like this had gone undiscovered for so long, how some opportunistic reporter hadn’t already spun the story to the tabloids at least. I was certain ‘family-oriented CEO fathered a secret son’ would’ve fetched a high price.
I made a cup of cheap hotel coffee and started to read over the short biography on his father’s ‘About the CEO’ page. Everything was exactly how I’d remembered it years before, all standing still in its fairy tale glory:
At six years old, Nathaniel Pearson was a young boy who only dreamed of being a pilot. Growing up poor, his parents were unable to afford lessons at the local glider school, so he learned how to build planes instead. After dropping out of high school at age fourteen, Pearson worked two jobs to help support his family, and eventually enrolled himself into flight school and became one of our country’s most decorated pilots.
After decades of service, he started Elite Airways, with the inaugural flight of a plane he helped design. However, the very first flight ended in fatality—killing his own wife, Sarah Irene, and severely injuring his only son, Evan.
Although Evan healed completely, Sarah succumbed to her injuries, forcing Nathaniel into years of depression. Amidst his heartache, Nathaniel vowed to make his airline the safest in the world and Elite has had no fatal crashes since.
He hopes to see this record continue.
I clicked on Evan’s profile, but his biography was far shorter, far less informational. It was simply a rehash of his university years and his love for flying. His picture was an older one of him in a navy blue pilot uniform.
Frustrated, I leaned back and played a YouTube video of him being interviewed several years ago. As the questions were asked and answered plainly, I started to think that whatever ties Jake had to him were maybe long lost, or that maybe he was the product of infidelity the family wanted to keep hidden. I read a few more articles and prepared to turn off the interview, but I heard Evan say something that caught me off guard.
