Copyright © 2019 by Dori Lavelle
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing: Michelle Storrusten
Cover: Tracy Lorraine
I close my laptop and stretch my arms above my head, sighing as some of the tension melts from my body.
I step away from the desk. No more work today.
It’s New Year’s Eve and I intend to celebrate, even if it’s alone. I’ve been in New York for two years now, but thanks to the demanding nature of my job, I don’t have time to make friends. It’s fine by me because I’m a loner anyway. I’ll stick with my few friends back home in Misty Cove, Florida.
My phone rings and I pick up without looking. Big mistake. It’s my mother.
“Hi, Mom.” I close my eyes and sink onto the couch.
“Ava Raine, I’ve been calling you all day. Have you been ignoring my calls?”
“You know I wouldn’t do that.” I massage my temples. “I’ve just been so busy.”
“Busy?” My mother scolds down the phone. “Do you ever take a break? It’s New Year’s Eve, for God’s sake. You should be home with your family instead of being there all alone.”
I sigh. “I wish I could, but I have so much work to do here.”
“Is that boss of yours treating you like a slave again?” She inhales sharply. “I don’t get why you put up with him. I should really give him a piece of my mind.”
A smile curls my lips. Last time she visited me, six months ago, she actually came to my office unannounced, demanding to speak to my boss, Donny Simmons, the managing director of the Steers Investment Firm. Fortunately, he had been tied up in a meeting.
“We’re all busy at the moment. Our quarterly board meeting is in three days and there’s a lot to do.”
“Board meeting or no board meeting, it doesn’t give them permission to make you work like a dog each day of the week. You even worked through Christmas.”
“I know, Mom. But the board meeting is one of the most important events of the year for the company.” I pause. “Mom, I have to go. There’s a call coming in.”
The other caller is Donny, but I don’t tell my mother that.
“I’ll call you at midnight,” she says and we hang up.
My heart sinks when I switch to the other call. “Hi, Donny.”
“Did you reserve a table at Donella for two tonight?” he asks, getting straight to the point as usual.
“Yes, I did it two days ago.” I curl my free hand into a fist.
Donny is married to a beautiful, successful lawyer, but I know for sure he will be having dinner with his mistress, an intern from the finance department who’s half his age. How do I know? Because I read the papers this morning. His wife is in Boston, involved in a high-profile court case. Donny also asked me to have a bouquet of roses delivered to her hotel room today. The man is an asshole, but of course I can’t tell him that without putting my job at risk.
“Good. Good.” He clears his throat. “Check your emails. I sent you the presentation slides for the board meeting. I need you to make the changes I suggested. Send the slides back to me by tomorrow 6:00 a.m.”
“6:00 a.m.?” I bite back the urge not to scream. There goes my free evening.
I already spent most of today killing myself with work—booking flights and making hotel arrangements for the board members who are flying in. Donny is a workaholic and he expects everyone who works for him to follow his crazy schedule. “It’s New Year’s Eve, Donny. And it’s my day off. Is it okay if I send them to you by tomorrow night?” Since it’s already 5:00 p.m., there’s not much left of the day.
“That’s not gonna fly with me, Ava. This is a very important board meeting. If you don’t pull your weight, you’re out.”
“Out?” My fingers go to my throat, which is closing up.
“By that I mean, you’re fired,” he says in a voice of steel.
“I see.” I push the words through clenched teeth. “Okay, I’ll send the slides to you by tomorrow morning.”
Without bothering to say goodbye or thank me, he hangs up. I stare at my phone, my throat burning with words I wish I had said. My mother is right. Donny is treating me like his personal slave instead of an executive PA.
My jaw is tight as I fill my lungs with the scent of the lemon cleaner I used to scrub my apartment with this morning.
As much as I hate working for Donny, I’m lucky to be working for one of the largest investment firms worldwide.
Feeling overwhelmed, I push to my feet and head to the kitchen, where I open the fridge and take out the bottle of champagne I had planned on enjoying at midnight.
Since my plans of curling up on the couch with a bowl of chips and a glass of champagne to watch sappy old movies have gone up in smoke, I might as well pop the champagne now.
I have never opened a bottle of champagne before, so I struggle for a bit before the cork flies out of the opening and smacks me right in my right eye.
Ouch! My hand flies to my eye as pain shoots through my eyeball. My heart clenches at the thought that I might have damaged something.
I stumble to the mirror and take a look at my red eye. Apart from the tears and the redness, nothing seems to be wrong with it. Still, what a shitty way to end the year.
Cursing under my breath, I go back to the kitchen and pour myself a full glass of champagne even though I’m the kind of person who gets tipsy from half a glass.
After I drain the glass with barely a pause, I take the bottle to the sitting room, where I plop down at my desk, ready to get started on the stupid presentation slides. Just as the computer screen flickers, my phone vibrates to alert me that a message has come in.
With my assaulted eye closed, I frown at the small screen. The text is from someone I haven’t heard from since a year ago, at the Oak Ridge University reunion. During my studies, Stacy B. was the Mi Alpha Alpha Sorority president. Even though I have her number, we’ve never called or texted since college, and I haven’t been in the alum chat in a while, where she usually posts.
I blink away the tears in my aching eye and read the text.
Remember, ladies. Do it. Whatever it is you want to do. Wherever you have wanted to go. Whatever you want to try, to taste, to feel, to live....do it. This is our year.
I pour myself another glass of champagne and allow Stacy’s words to sink into my mind.
Many people don’t know what they want to do with their lives. But I have always known. If I were not working at Steers, I would be a flight attendant. It’s something I have always wanted to be since I was a child. But my fear of flying has led me to study business administration instead of following my dream.
Is it too late? Maybe Stacy is telling me that it isn’t.
The sound of the phone ringing yanks me from a deep sleep. I ignore it and pull a pillow over my head, but it refuses to quit. Groaning, I rub my eyes awake. Thank God my eye injury did not have serious consequences. The pain already feels distant.
I toss the pillow onto the floor and glance at the window. I blink several times to make sure I’m seeing right. The curtain is open and bright sunshine is pouring into the room. My heart starts to race.
Please, God, tell me I didn’t sleep through the New Year’s Eve celebrations. It’s not possible.
My head feels like someone had shaken it a few hundred times, my eye is still throbbing with the remnants of pain inflicted by the cor
k, and my mouth tastes sour.
The phone stops ringing only to start again. I pick it up and stare at the screen, my heart in my throat.
As soon as I see the name of the caller, I jerk to a sitting position, the pain in my eye forgotten. It’s Donny.
On instinct, I search my bed for my laptop, which spends most nights in bed with me since I often work late into the night. It’s nowhere to be found.
As the phone continues to ring, my heart beats in rhythm and bile is pushed up my throat. I can’t remember if I did the work Donny wanted me to do.
As soon as the call ends, I notice that it’s 8:00 a.m. Oh my God. He asked me to send the slides to him by 6:00 a.m. There are six missed calls from him. And he left countless voice messages.
My gaze goes to the bottle of champagne on the nightstand. It’s empty. How could I go from not being able to handle half a glass of champagne to finishing a whole bottle? How could I have been so irresponsible?
Even though Donny would never admit it, he knows I’m not only one of the most hard-working employees at the company, I’m also very reliable. I hardly ever mess up when it comes to my job.
I’m thinking about whether to call him back, when he calls again. I suck in a breath and press the phone to my ear. He speaks before I do.
“Where are my damn slides, Ava?”
Fear twists my stomach. I was still hoping that maybe I actually did the work and forgot about it. I don’t even remember opening his email. “I’m sorry,” I say in a low voice. “I didn’t—”
“You didn’t the fuck what?”
I bury my sweaty hand into my hair. “I didn’t...I didn’t have a chance to look at them.”
“Are you screwing with me right now?” His voice is like thunder as it explodes down the line. It causes my headache to shoot to another level.
“I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll send them to you within the hour.”
“I thought I made myself clear. I wanted the slides by six this morning. You dropped the fucking ball. Sometimes I wonder why I hired you.”
“Because I’m great at my job.” I can’t believe he’s forgetting everything I did, not only for the company, but also for him. I fetched coffees, booked private holidays and restaurant tables, ordered flowers, and did many other things that are not part of my job description. How could he forget the many nights he woke me up to take care of something for him?
One mistake, and he’s now making me feel like a failure.
“If you were good at your job, those slides would be in my mailbox right now. You’re just as useless as everyone else.”
I pull in a breath, forcing myself to calm down. With each breath I only feel more hurt. Stacy’s words ring in my ears as I grip the phone tight.
Do it. Whatever it is you want to do.
Maybe it’s time to stand up for myself. I’m fed up with Donny pushing me around.
“Fine.” I lift my chin and close my eyes. “If that’s how you feel, get yourself someone else to push around. I’m done.” With those simple words, I open my eyes, feeling suddenly free.
“What the fuck do you mean?” There’s a slur to the edge of his voice.
“I’m out. I quit.” A smile spreads across my face. I’m doing the right thing. It’s time for me to have a life that does not revolve around a cheating bully who doesn’t respect other people’s time.
He gives a dark laugh. “Don’t be stupid. What about the board meeting?”
“Not my problem anymore. You’ve disrespected me long enough.”
“Now listen to me, you little piece of shit ––”
“No, Donny.” I shake my head. “I’m done listening to you. Goodbye.” This time I hang up the phone before he does.
I slide out of bed, my head spinning, trying not to think about what I just did.
I manage to get through the morning without freaking out and calling Donny back to beg for my job. I don’t have a plan, but I refuse to panic.
After a cold shower and a strong coffee, I switch on my laptop, but for the first time in a long time, it’s not because I want to work. I don’t even check my emails. Donny has probably sent me the same insults he texted to my phone until I switched it off.
Before I can change my mind, I go online and buy a Regency airlines ticket to Greece. The flight leaves in two days. I’ve always wanted to visit Athens.
I have enough money saved up for the trip, and to keep me for a while when I get back.
Stacy was right, it’s time to do something I’ve always wanted to do. To see if a flight attendant job is for me, I have to get in the sky. I’ll not allow my fears to hold me back.
By the time I arrive at the airport, sweat is trickling down my spine. But I’ve made a decision and I’m sticking to it.
Resisting the urge to run, I approach the Regency Airlines check in counter. A beautiful blonde with too much mascara gives me a bright smile. “Good morning, ma’am.”
“Good morning,” I say, pushing my shoulders back to seem more confident than I feel.
Since I wait too long before saying or doing anything else, her head tilts to the side. “Would you like to check in?”
“Ye...yes.” I scramble inside my handbag for my passport and ticket. “I’m flying to Athens.” I don’t know why I feel the need to tell her. She will see everything she needs to know on the ticket.
Within five minutes, my luggage is checked in and I have an hour to kill before boarding. I would have been less nervous if it were a direct flight. But all direct flights to Athens were gone. I’ll have to go through Frankfurt. The idea of having to get off a plane to board another makes it hard for me to breathe. That means, by the time I get back to the US in two weeks, I’d have flown in four airplanes. It would have been so much easier to trust one pilot instead of four.
I find a café and order a latte macchiato. To keep myself from panicking, I call my sister, Jolene.
“Is Mom still pissed at me?”
“I’m sorry, sis. You know how she feels about anyone of us flying.”
“Yep, I do know. I got my fear of flying from her, after all.”
In my first year of high school, I shared with my mom my dream of becoming a flight attendant. She panicked and shut it down immediately. After that conversation, each time she saw an airplane on TV or in person, she went on about how unsafe it must be to fly. Even when Dad provided her with written evidence that plane crashes occur less frequently than road accidents, she stood her ground. As a result, we never went anywhere that needed flying to, only to places that could be reached by car. After years of being fed stories of the dangers of air travel, my mind accepted it as truth.
“If it helps,” Jolene says. “Dad is super proud of you. So am I. I wish you had asked me to come with you though. I hate to think you will be alone and scared on a plane.”
I take a sip of my latte, giving it permission to soothe my nerves. “I wanted to, but this is something I need to do alone.”
Jolene tells me again that she’s proud of me, then my mom comes on the line to insist I’m making a mistake, and that she has a bad feeling about the whole thing.
“You always have a bad feeling when someone flies, Mom.” I sigh deeply. I can’t bear to carry her fears as well. “I’ll be fine. I promise. When I get back from Greece, I’ll come home for a few days.”
When I finally end the call, I close my eyes, forcing myself to forget my mother’s words. I only open them when a weird sensation touches the nape of my neck. You always know when someone is watching you.
I turn around slowly. Through the sheet of glass wall surrounding the café I notice a group of men, two pilots and a man in a black suit talking to each other, except that only the pilots are actually participating in the conversation.
The suited man is tall with an athletic physique, and dark eyes that are staring straight at me. He doesn’t even pretend not to be watching. I find that I can’t look away either. The longer I stare at him, the more my cheeks burn.
Something about him is hypnotizing.
He’s close enough for me to see that his hair, which looks as though it has been teased by a breeze, is just as dark as his eyes and his lips are full and slightly parted. Standing tall on the other side of the glass, he looks almost too handsome to be real.
The few seconds we stare at each other, my fears of flying melt away, and my heart is now pounding hard for a whole other reason.
It’s only when the barista asks me if I want to order anything else that I reluctantly pull my gaze away from the man.
“No…No, thanks. I’d like to pay.” I hand the woman the money.
When I look back at the place the stranger had been, I don’t find him there. Only the pilots are left behind. Was he really there, or was he a product of my imagination?
He was there. I know he was. There is no way my heart would go this crazy for someone who exists only in my head.
My knees are weak as I get up from the table and leave the café. Like a crazy woman, I find myself searching my surroundings for the tall, handsome stranger. But he’s gone.
* * *
My seatbelt is tight around my waist, my hands clenched into fists on my lap, and my eyes shut tight. This is it. I’m about to face the worst fear of my life.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” a flight attendant asks in a calm voice that does nothing to soothe me.
I open my eyes and force a shaky smile. I want to tell her the truth, that I’m not okay, that I want to quit before we’re in the sky.
“I am,” I murmur. “I’m fine.”
“It’s just that you don’t look well.” She frowns. “Should I bring you a glass of water?”
With the back of my hand, I wipe the sweat from my forehead and nod. I feel so stupid right now. The plane is full of people reading, chatting easily with their companions, or staring at their laptops. I’m the only one who looks scared.
It suddenly hits me that I might have made a big mistake. I quit my job for something I will never be brave enough to do. How could I spend hours in the sky working as a flight attendant when I freak out before takeoff? Maybe I should just call Donny to ask for my job back.
Resolution Take Off: A Resolution Pact Short Story Page 1
