Private Pilot

by Karen Deen

  “I’m fine. Thank you for asking. Just very busy preparing for the meeting.” Her voice is cold and hard again. Like the wall she let slip for that small moment is back firmly in place.

  “Which she would be able to do if you would stop annoying her, Captain White. If you’re back here, then who’s in charge of the plane?” Fucking Tyson. I just want to stand up and deck that asshole.

  “Tyson!” Paige glares at him, which makes me grin like a Cheshire cat. Her sharp tongue has him stand still.

  “Obviously, unlike you, Tyson, I can manage to fly a jet, take care of Ms. Ellen in all areas she needs a skilled man, and have time to take a leak. Don’t fret, little boy. Captain White will keep you safe and get you back on the ground so you can go back to your secretary duties.” Standing now eye level with him, I see his anger rising. For the first time, I hear a little snicker coming from beside me. It was so quiet I doubt Tyson heard it. Maybe it was just meant for my ears only.

  “That’s Mr. Burke!” It’s like he’s so close to exploding, and I can’t help myself.

  “No worries, Tyson.” I pat him on the shoulder and turn back to Paige. “Excuse me, Ms. Ellen, I really need to use the bathroom.”

  “Paige.” She smirks. “Of course, please move, Tyson, so the good Captain Mason can get past. He has an important job to do so he can get back to the cockpit.” She waves her hands at him to accentuate her point. The way she emphasizes cock has me wanting to do more than take a leak with my cock.

  “Thank you, Paige. Don’t forget I’m here if you need my help with anything at all. I’m a man who aims to please.” With that, I smirk at Tyson and push past him on the way to the bathroom. Seeing his face turn a bright shade of red with frustration makes my day.

  “Thanks, Mason. I’m sure you do try to. I’d be interested to know your success rate, though.” She ends the discussion as her fingernails start hitting those keys again. Was that a subtle invitation to show her, or just her pure ball-breaking sarcasm?

  The boss lady’s back, and Paige is neatly tucking herself back away where she’s hiding.

  I need to find a way to get to know the real Paige.

  Paige

  No grown woman I know is on the phone at this hour of the morning to their father.

  What a way to start a day.

  I’d prefer some hot guy telling me the dirty things he would do to me if we were in the same room.

  My father’s voice snaps me out of that fantasy!

  “Yes, Daddy, I understand. I just think I should cancel Orlando and send Brian. You need me here.” Pacing my bedroom at five-thirty am, I should’ve hung up by now. Or declined the call in the first place.

  “You might be the CEO of the company, Paige, but I am still your father. You will go to Orlando and visit me when you return. You don’t cancel an appointment, it’s bad manners. You should know that. You never cancel unless someone is dead.” I roll my eyes at his stern voice coming through the phone. Well, that can certainly be arranged, Daddy dearest. One day he will remember I’m an adult.

  “Yes, Daddy, I might be the CEO, but I am also your daughter and the only family you have. If you aren’t well, then I should be looking after you. Brian is perfectly capable of handling the meeting.” I can’t tell if he is coughing or scoffing at letting Brian fly to Florida. “It’s okay to let the vice president take on some of my work. That’s what he’s there for. Otherwise, I’m wasting the exorbitant salary I’m paying him.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Paige. The company is always your top priority. It should come before everything, including yourself. Now get on that plane and secure the contract. There is a reason I put you in charge. You are my little firecracker. No one takes advantage of my girl.”

  “Of course, Daddy, you’re right.” I grit my teeth. “I’ll be back by late afternoon and will call around then and check on you. I’m assuming Beth is there looking after you?” My father’s housekeeper has been working for us since before I was born. She’s like a grandmother to me, practically raised me while Dad was off building an empire for me to take over.

  “Yes, she just brought me in a hot cup of tea. Now go and sort out this meeting and let me know what happens. Love you, my firecracker.”

  “Love you too, Daddy.” Ending the call, I stand glancing out at the skyline of Chicago, watching the city slowly waking up to Monday, the start of another crazy week.

  Time to get on the treadmill and start the day while listening to the morning news, catching up with the world from overnight. It’s been the same routine since I was about sixteen. I always knew I would take over the company from Dad when he was ready. He had been planning that since the day I was first in his arms.

  The day he finally stepped down as CEO, I got the speech—or should I say lecture—from him on what is expected of me.

  “You’re in charge now. Trust no one.”

  “Be the tiger, the corporate leader.”

  “Paige Ellen, the CEO they’re scared of but aspire to be!”

  That was ten years ago, after his mini stroke and he was told he needed to retire. Limit his stress, otherwise he’s in danger of a another one which might not be so minor. I was twenty-nine at the time and had been more than ready to take on the world.

  Only one thing was stopping me.

  A father who retired but was still standing in my office every day checking up on me.

  Driving me crazy!

  It’s hard to finally run things my way with someone still looking over my shoulder and stamping his feet every time he didn’t agree with the decision I was making. This little firecracker was about ready to explode.

  Finally, I was given a reprieve when his longtime friend, who’s my godfather, told him to get out of my way. Franco’s the only one who could get away with it. Dad grumbled and sulked for a few months but finally took notice and left me to run the company on my own.

  Ellen Corporation continues to have amazing growth and is a leader in the communications industry. Currently we hold a supply contract for the United States Government defense services. It took two years of hard negotiating to land it. Now, my goal is to hold onto it, with the aim to secure more.

  I’m greedy like that. When I want something, I’ll do whatever it takes to get it.

  Within the law, of course.

  I’m not one to play dirty in the corporate world. To me that just shows you aren’t a skilled businessperson if you need to resort to bribes or under-the-table deals. Work hard and win it on your own merit is the way my dad always taught me.

  Sweat pouring off me from running, I hit the shower. Smoothing my soap over my lower body, I’m reminded of how long it’s been since it’s been touched by anyone but me.

  It’s a sacrifice I’ve made. There is no time for anyone else in my life.

  As my father reminded me this morning, the company is the most important thing in my life. Something I accepted a long time ago.

  I grew up with just my father and Beth. My mother dumped me on the doorstep of Jonathon Ellen’s home one night with a note saying she couldn’t look after me and hoped that someone could give me a better life. My father had never married and had no intention of having any children. But Beth tells the story of the moment he picked me up out of the basket on that cold night, he fell in love with me and there was no way he was giving me up. Having plenty of money to make sure the adoption process was easy, I became Paige Ellen, the adored daughter of Jonathan Ellen, within days.

  He did try to find my mother, but she didn’t want to be found. With absolutely no clues to trace, it made it impossible to pursue.

  I often wonder about her.

  What she’s like, why she gave me up, and why did she pick my dad’s doorstep of all the ones in that street? Was there some connection to my father, or was it just the universe playing a part in the whole story? Either way, I was blessed in my life, and I hope she is happy wherever she may be now.

  Showered, hair and make-up done, I slip into a gre
y tailored dress that sits just above the knees, acceptable for a boardroom. My matching suit jacket secures at the single button on my waist. I’m sure people wonder where I come from. My father is just five-foot-two, fair skin and heavy-set. While I’m olive skinned and with a very slight build, standing at just under six feet. So, once I slip into my yellow heels for the day, I stand close to six-foot-two.

  Many men find this intimidating. I learned very early on in my career never to show fear. Walk into any boardroom or office as if you own the space. Even if you are shaking like crazy on the inside. You will either intimidate them or they will respect you and communicate on an even level.

  Unfortunately, the business world still has a bias towards men in the top positions of companies. So, any women who run companies are usually known as bitches with balls or ball-breakers. I don’t know why it always relates to men’s balls, but maybe that just shows how pathetic the ones who say it are.

  Bent, my driver, is waiting patiently with the car when I walk from the foyer of my building. He learned early, I’m punctual and never like to be kept waiting. Time is money in my business.

  “Morning, Ms. Ellen, Tyson is in the car waiting.” He dips his hat, opening the door for me.

  “Thank you, Bent.” He smiles as I slide into the car. “Morning, Tyson.” I straighten my skirt and place my bag on the seat next to me. He hands me my organic espresso coffee. I can’t start the day without it. The first day Tyson worked for me he turned up with a cappuccino which I took one sip of and spat it out.

  I’m a coffee snob.

  It needs to be from Starbucks, only beans that are organically grown and ethically sourced. Strong and piping hot. Otherwise, I won’t drink it. More of us need to make a stand in this world about how our fellow humans are treated in less-fortunate countries. These large corporations that use adults and children in poorer countries and pay them very little are criminals. They make huge profits on abusing people’s basic right to a fair wage. I’m very conscious in my business to make sure we never do this. When I purchase products in all aspects of my life, I try to support companies that use fair trade with wages for raw materials. Like coffee beans.

  “Morning, Ms. Ellen. I have forwarded the meeting agenda with the changes you asked for to your email and all the contracts are in the drive, ready for the last adjustments of negotiations that occur during the meeting. The jet is on standby and ready to go.” I’ve got to give it to Tyson; he’s efficient and knows what I expect from him. As soon as I’m in the car, we’re working. There is no idle chat.

  “Thank you. I saw them early this morning. Everything looks in order. I want you to know that my father isn’t feeling well this morning, so if he or Beth call at any time during the meeting, I am to be interrupted straight away.” I have my first sip of coffee for the morning, turning to look out the window.

  I hear him reply behind me, but I’m not really paying attention. Every time my father gets ill lately, I realize he’s not getting any younger. He is now eighty-one and ageing by the day. The sense of how alone I am in this world is really weighing heavily on me this morning. If something were to happen to him, then it’s just me.

  No parents, siblings, relatives—or friends, for that matter. I have plenty of acquaintances, but let’s be honest, they’re just business contacts, not one of them I could call a friend to rely on. Growing up, I had a few girlfriends at school, but we drifted apart when they became the society wives of the men they married. They can’t understand why I haven’t found a man, married, and let him run the company while I stay at home and procreate the perfect little children that society thinks I should produce.

  My father brought me up to be a strong independent woman, and that’s who I am.

  Just as we’re driving across the tarmac towards my jet, the tone of my phone breaks me out of my thoughts. Looking down, I notice Beth’s name on my screen. Sliding to answer immediately, my heart skips a little with fear that something has happened.

  “Beth, is my father okay?” I blurt out. Blunter than I meant.

  “Yes, dear. Sorry to panic you. I was just calling to put your mind at ease before you fly. He is doing fine and resting after his breakfast. It is just a little cold this time, and I will have the doctor call on him later today just to be sure.” Her voice has the soothing effect that she knows I need.

  “Thank you, Beth. I appreciate the call.” The stubborn old bugger never tells me the truth, especially if he thinks that it will affect the company. I could throttle him at times.

  “Can you message me after the doctor leaves, please?” I sound more like the woman she raised, now that I’ve taken the sharpness out of my voice.

  “Of course, sweetie. We both know how painful he is. That’s why I call with the facts and not that garbage he tries to tell you. Have a safe flight, and I will see you later this afternoon. Will you be here for dinner? I’ll make your favorite, chicken and vegetable soup and fresh-baked bread.” In that moment I remember I’m not entirely alone. I have this sweet old lady as my family. For how long I don’t know, but I cherish every day I still have them both.

  “That sounds amazing, Beth. Looking forward to it.” I want to have her tell my father to behave or I’ll scold him later, and then tell her I love her. But with Tyson and Bent in the car I don’t.

  “Love you, sweetie. Now go and be amazing and I’ll look after the grump upstairs.”

  “Thanks, Beth, talk soon.” She knows what I’m thinking without me even saying it. With that I hang up and just sit for a few seconds collecting myself. I never let people see me vulnerable.

  Deep breath.

  “Thank you, Bent,” I let my driver know I’m ready to exit the car.

  Standing and straightening my clothes, I look out and there he is.

  My Private Pilot.

  Captain Mason White.

  So tall with those broad shoulders. Strong arms that are always ridged and behind his back. Legs slightly apart. Almost standing to attention in his tightfitting pilot’s uniform.

  Fuck, he has those damn aviator glasses on again.

  Why do they make me feel weak at the knees, when no man has ever made me feel that before?

  He reminds me of my teenage Tom Cruise crush, Maverick from Top Gun.

  I can’t let him know that he has any effect on me. Then he smiles that smug cocky grin, and I’m done. If I am ever going to break my no-man streak, he’s top of the list. I know I won’t, yet sometimes a girl deserves dreams. Naughty ones…very naughty!

  Locking down my thoughts, I strut my stuff past Mason, acknowledge him with a nod, and head straight up the steps. Knowing he’s checking out my ass gives me a tingle where I shouldn’t be tingling.

  Distraction, I need to look busy.

  As he enters the cabin, I direct my eyes down and work.

  Be the firecracker. That’s my life and I’m damn good at it!

  2

  Paige

  CROSSING MY LEGS IS doing nothing to quiet the tingling Mason stirs in me every time I see him. Squeezing that little bit harder should stop me having to head to the bathroom to take the edge off this ache.

  “Is there anything I can get you before we take off, Ms. Ellen?” Holly sweetly asks. “The captain is about to put the seatbelt sign up so I just thought I would check.”

  “No, thank you,” I answer, trying to appear calm and not give away my dilemma. My brain is also still buzzing from my coffee, and I never drink alcohol before a meeting, so I’m all good.

  “I’ll have a chai latte and my fruit,” Tyson demands from her. He’s such a dick. Lucky his skills are top-rate, otherwise I’d have booted him long ago. I glare at him, which is enough for him to realize his mistake.

  “Of course, only if it isn’t too much trouble.” He then tries to cover up his arrogance.

  “Oh, that might have to wait until we’re in the air now. Seatbelts fastened, please.” With that, Holly turns quickly and walks away. Good for her. Don’t take crap fro
m anyone.

  There is something about taking off in a plane that just doesn’t sit well with me. As often as I fly, you would think I’d be used to it by now, but it still makes me apprehensive. Feeling the acceleration as we race down the runway, I lay my head back on the seat and close my eyes. The only problem with that is it causes my mind to wander. Thinking of my father and worrying about him. As much as he’s a pain, he’s mine. The one person who stepped in thirty-nine years ago when no one else would. My protector.

  I hear the wheels come up under the plane with the familiar thump underneath me and open my eyes to look out the window. The ground is fast disappearing under us. Clouds start to envelop the plane. It’s like you slip into this different world when you’re up here. It’s just white and blue as far as I can see. A kind of peace I very rarely find on the ground.

  I hear Mason’s smooth deep voice over the intercom pulling me out of my thoughts. Tyson releases his seatbelt and moves towards the bathroom.

  Suddenly I’m alone.

  Everything I’ve been thinking about my sick father surprisingly creeps up on me. I try to start work by drafting points for the meeting, but it’s overwhelming and I can’t hold it back. I fight to stop it.

  A single tear escapes.

  I never cry.

  Ever. I’m tougher than that.

  I feel his electrifying presence before I see him. I jump at the sight of him handing me a crisp white handkerchief. I’m stumbling trying to talk, mumbling his name. His body being so close makes my body tingle. His eyes are a beautiful brown shade that are totally focused on me right now. I wasn’t expecting him to see me, or even care that something isn’t right for me. I don’t get close to people, yet here he is. He offers up his handkerchief again. Mortified he’s seen my tear, I shake my head and look away. Quickly wiping the lone tear gone.