Flyboy

by Sophia Summers

  When she arrived at the dirt field, the men were already chatting in the center, Colton with lots of smiles and gestures. At last, after what looked like some haggling, they placed Omar and Colton on opposite sides, and the game restarted.

  She sat at the side on the dirt, hugging her legs to her chest. Before too long, a soft, small presence at her side made her smile. A child, a young girl, had come to join her. And then another, and another, until she and the children made for quite an audience. She smiled at them all, waving her hand in a small wave. “Tudo bem.” A common greeting she’d noticed that basically meant, How are you?

  They giggled.

  “I’m Ivy.”

  The kids all said her name one at a time, and then she tried to remember their names. There was Amanda, Gilson, Roberto, Tiago, and several others, and they were all pronounced differently than she would have thought. They spelled them out in the dirt.

  After a moment of quiet, the boys cheered.

  Colton raised both hands in the air and ran back to centerfield. Had he just made a goal? She laughed as he tried to high five every guy out there, even if they weren’t on his team.

  Omar huddled up with his guys.

  And she started a cheering section with her group.

  “What’s his name?” Gilson pointed to Colton.

  “Flyboy.” She laughed.

  Gilson’s face lit up, and he held his hands out like an airplane. “Fly . . . boy?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Flyboy. Flyboy. Flyboy.” He started chanting, and the others joined him, pointing. Then a few ran in circles with their arms out as if flying.

  Colton started to notice. He ran close to them, with his arms out, and then he winked at Ivy and went back out after the ball.

  The kids looked like they’d been recognized by a celebrity. They jumped up and down and cheered. And then for the rest of the game, every time Colton touched the ball, they took up their cheers.

  Once, Omar came close. He held out a hand to high five the group as he ran by, but they would have none of it. And they started a new Flyboy chant.

  Ivy laughed when Omar shook his head and ran back to the game.

  The time went quickly, and soon the guys finished their game. The kids ran to the center of the field, gathering around Colton.

  Soon Gilson was up on Colton’s shoulders, and the group was laughing and bouncing in place.

  Omar came and sat beside her. “I don’t know how he does it.”

  “Does what?”

  “Becomes everyone’s best friend. Look at him, even with the kids. When did he become Barney?”

  Ivy laughed. Then she grew serious. “Do you think he’s reckless? Am I totally off base with this?”

  “I just don’t know why it bothers you so much.” Omar shrugged. “We each bring something to the team. Colton brings his talents. You bring yours.”

  Ivy considered him. She’d have to think about what he said. “Do you think we’re ever getting out of here?”

  Colton threw the ball back down in the dirt, and it looked like the kids were now dividing up into teams.

  Omar stood. “Oh no, he doesn’t. I’m out of here. Fly! Toss me your keys.” Omar held his hand up. “We can come back and get him.”

  Colton shook his head. “I’m coming!” He high-fived a few more of the kids and then ran toward them. His face was alight.

  Ivy couldn’t look away.

  “That was excellent!” He jogged up to them. “How often do a couple of Americans get to play some authentic Brazilian football—streetball?”

  “Probably never.” Ivy laughed.

  “They said we can come back whenever we want. They play every night.”

  When they climbed back into the car, and for the whole way back to Fatima’s, Ivy’s mind was turning over possibilities. Who was Colton, really? Did she owe him an apology?

  Even though she was now plagued with a new desire to really get to know this man, he seemed more indifferent than ever.

  He parked the old truck and took off inside, calling to Fatima. She and Omar were left to walk in together.

  “Give the guy a chance.”

  Ivy’s surprise must have been evident.

  He held his hands out. “I’m not talking about anything except as your boss. Whatever other nonsense you guys have going on, that’s your business, but if I’m gonna work with you for half the year, I’d rather we all figured out how to mesh. You know?”

  “When did you become—?”

  “Yeah, I know, Omar, the hothead, giving communication advice. Well, I guess when there’s nothing to get all riled up about, I like the peace. Whatever. Just figure it out. Give the guy a break.”

  She didn’t see Colton for the rest of the day. After a walk around the property by herself, she called it an early night. Right before she fell asleep, her last thought was that Omar was right, she needed to give Colton a chance. And probably an apology.

  Chapter 11

  Colton went to work and came home for the next week and hardly noticed anything else around him. He was flying. He was training. Everything should have been going great, but he couldn’t feel the spark his life used to offer him. It was like someone had placed one of those photo editing filters on his life, the dreary grayscale one. He tried to pretend it had something to do with his life, his health, less sleep, but really, the reason was Ivy. One hundred percent Ivy.

  She’d taken to smiling at him. Not her normal smile, but this half-lipped, careful smile, and he decided he hated that much more than her spitfire anger.

  He’d taken to attempting dumb and reckless stunts or saying crazy things in her presence just to get her riled up. But she just kept making that small smile. And he figured he’d lost her forever.

  His phone rang. “Ace.”

  “Hello to you too, bro.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Just checking in. How’s it going with Tenderfoot?”

  “Why? Has she submitted another complaint?”

  “That good, huh?”

  He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s . . . nothing. We talked about our differences, and now, nothing. No complaints, just . . . You know? It would be better if she was angry about something.”

  Ace’s low chuckle sounded way too knowledgeable.

  “Is the training going well?”

  “Oh yeah. We got this.”

  “You could come home . . .”

  The silence on the phone lingered, full of dread on Colton’s end; he didn’t know what Ace was thinking.

  “Do you need me?”

  “Well, no, but if you’re unhappy . . . if it’s functioning without you, I’d like to get our executive board to a place where we can choose to be on the ground in the country we’re training if we want, but we don’t have to be.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” But what else would Colton do with his life? He loved to train new teams, didn’t he? Not lately. Suddenly, his Texas ranch and his horse were looking really good right now. “I’ll think about it.”

  “And, Fly?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t let her get under your skin. You’re my best friend for a reason, and I wouldn’t have even considered doing Top Flight without you. You’re a great pilot.”

  “Hey, no one’s gonna change the Fly, you know that.”

  “Good to hear. Give it some thought about coming home. Omar and Ivy can do this. They practically ran the whole Pacific Alliance assignment by themselves. All I did there was cause trouble for them to clean up.”

  Colton grinned. “The good kind of trouble.”

  “Of course.”

  When they hung up, Colton felt better. And braver.

  “Tenderfoot.” He called to her as the class was filing out of the room. “Let’s go get some churrasco.”

  She looked like she was about to drop her clipboard, but that same hesitant smile tugged at her lips, and she nodded. “Okay. I’d like that.”


  “Omar, you in?”

  “Nah.” He waved. “You two go without me. I promised Fatima I’d work on the chicken coop.”

  Colton suspected nothing of the kind had been set up between Omar and Fatima, but he appreciated some time alone with Ivy. Maybe they could get things back to where they should be.

  As he held the door open for her, she brushed by, her shirt touching his lightly. A pleasant rumble rushed through him. He wanted to lean towards her, to capture more. They made their way to the truck. Omar waved from one of the other pilot’s cars.

  They drove through the small town and on to the larger connected city. “I heard that Fogao has a restaurant down here.”

  “Is that the big one in Brazil?”

  “Yes, it’s supposed to be the best.”

  “Mm. I’m starving. This was a good idea.”

  “And we haven’t had our own churrasco yet. Though Fatima has one planned for Saturday. Her own version.”

  “I just hope she keeps making beans. I didn’t even think I liked beans until I ate hers.” Ivy smiled out the window.

  “I hear she’s got feijoada coming too, her own special recipe.”

  “Is that beans?”

  “Totally. It’s a Brazilian dish, usually made more in the north, but she likes it. I think her family comes from Bahia. That’s way north, on the coast.”

  “How do you know so much about this country?”

  “Research.” He shrugged.

  But her eyes widened. “Research for this assignment?”

  “Sure. It really helps if you understand the people you’re training, you know? I’ve been working on my Portuguese too. It’s paid off.”

  “It really has.” Her smile changed for a moment, perhaps a glimpse of real appreciation in there.

  They drove through the small, one-street town near Fatima’s house and on to the larger city nearby. “Soldao should have dancing, clubs, and movie theaters. It’s a real city. Maybe after dinner, if things go well . . .” Colton forced his face to stay a mask. If things go well, what did he mean by that? It could be taken so many different ways. He’d said it without thinking.

  “Dancing would be great. I haven’t been in ages.”

  Ivy seemed more relaxed, natural. Her small smile was still there, but at least she was considering dancing. He got more comfortable in his seat. “Excellent. How are you at the country dances? I hear there’s such a thing as a true gaucho cowboy around here.”

  “They’re my favorite. I grew up near Boston, and I used to only go to the clubs on country night or swing.”

  “You know how to swing dance?” This night was getting better and better.

  “I love it. If you do too, we’re totally going.” She turned in her seat so she was facing him more. “The more I get to know you, I find . . . surprises.”

  “Surprises? Good ones or more to dislike about me?”

  “Good ones. And for the record, there is nothing I dislike about you as a person. I like everything I’ve seen. You’re fun and engaging, and you make everyone laugh. You’re a great person, always helping everyone. People love that stuff.”

  “People? Not you.”

  “My comments—that letter.” She looked away and frowned. Then she turned back to him. “None of that is related to the type of person you are . . . or anything. And besides. I’m relooking at my previous thoughts.”

  He nodded slowly. “So I still have a chance to convince you?”

  “Convince me?”

  “That there is more than one way to go about things?”

  That small grin grew. And her eyes showed a bit of life. “If you still want to.”

  “Oh, I do. Believe me, Tenderfoot. I do.” The air between them felt thick with expectation. It hummed with friction. More than anything, he wanted to throw his arm over there, wrap it around her and slide her over right next to him in the truck. But he couldn’t be so bold. Not yet. If he played things right, there might be a time.

  “So, dancing. Dancing is a time to really let that side of me out. You okay with fun as long as people’s lives aren’t at stake?”

  “Totally.” She tapped her fingers. “And I’m not certain of my earlier stance that the things you do put people’s lives at risk. I’m rethinking that too.”

  “Wow, so much rethinking.” His thumbs tapped against the steering wheel. “Should we see what kind of music they play in Brazil?”

  “Sure. Okay. I’m not even going to be surprised if you start singing along.”

  They drove the rest of the way, laughing about the different tunes, the soccer kids, and they even talked work for a few minutes, analyzing the different pilots and their needs. She had excellent insight and suggestions about what they might need to work on in the air with him. By the time they arrived at Folgao, she was laughing through her tears, and he was itching to reach over and take her hand.

  When he parked, he winked. “You sit tight, because I’m coming around to get your door.”

  Then he hopped out, feeling like he was on a really great first date.

  She climbed down, stepping right in front of him, in the intimate space people usually reserved for those they wanted to get closer to. He grinned down into her face. “And now we are going to have the best meat this world has to offer.”

  She laughed. “Good thing I like meat.”

  “If you want, they also have the best salad bar Brazil has to offer. I hardly touch that stuff; it doesn’t leave room for the meat.”

  She entered with a hand on his arm. Dressed in their work clothes, she looked military. He didn’t know how else to describe it. Plain clothes, straight skirt, practical. He wore a white t-shirt, stretched across his chest. It fit best under the flight suit.

  But she pulled at her hair, and soon it was falling down around her shoulders in waves.

  “You know, you have fantastic hair.” He itched to touch it, to let the silky strands fall through his fingers.

  “Thank you.” Her smile grew even bigger. “I’m regretting my outfit, but everyone here seems to be wearing whatever they want.”

  The restaurant was only about half full, and she was right. Some were overly fancy, and others were even more casual than he was.

  “You look beautiful.” He didn’t watch to see her reaction. He just sent his compliment out there. He would have told any girl if she was beautiful. He felt like there wasn’t a woman alive who wasn’t. But when he told Ivy, he meant the very specific kind of beautiful that quickened his blood and made him want to pull her closer to his side, the kind of beautiful that simmered from the inside out.

  “Thank you.” Her small-sounding response drew his attention back to her face. Her eyes were lifted to his and glistened a little.

  “I’m sorry for misunderstanding you.”

  “Hey now, I thought we talked about this. I’ve got another chance to prove myself.”

  “But you shouldn’t have to prove yourself.” She shook her head. “But never mind me. Let’s eat.”

  The maître d’ showed them to their table.

  They were given a card at their right. On one side was a green dot, on the other side a red dot. “If you want more, just leave it at green.”

  Ivy flipped the green side up. “It’s all green, baby.” She stood. “But I’m also going to fill my plate with whatever goodness is over there.”

  The center of the room was filled with a huge table overflowing with all kinds of Brazilian dishes. From where he sat, Colton could see they had a huge vat of feijoada, vinaigrette with tomatoes and cucumbers, hearts of palm, three-layer gelatin, a delicious looking stroganoff, and various fish dishes. Wow. A whole meal in itself sat over there. He’d have to come back and bring all the other pilots. This place was amazing.

  The servers wore white shirts and black pants and small black bowties.

  Ivy returned after they’d placed the first three rounds on her plate. He laughed at her widened stare at the pile of meats.

  “What is all thi
s now?”

  He pointed to the small bite-sized piece. “That is a chicken heart.”

  She nearly choked.

  “And that is a piece of an alligator.” He laughed. “Everything else you would find in a steak restaurant at home.”

  “Good to know, and did you eat the heart or the alligator?”

  “I did. I love those little hearts. Alligator though . . .” He grimaced. “This one tasted like old fish.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. No need for me to enjoy that piece then.”

  “But the gator I’ve had down in Louisiana . . .Mmm. That’s good stuff.”

  “Where haven’t you been?”

  He considered her question. “Not many places, honestly. I’m looking at Mount Rushmore as probably the last place standing that I have not explored. The last place of note. I also haven’t been on the plains of Kansas, but . . .”

  “Well, now, let’s not underestimate the plains of Kansas.”

  He eyed her. “I thought you were from Boston.”

  “Oh, I am, but I have driven through Kansas, and I’m telling you. That long stretch of the same view is not to be underestimated. I am convinced there is extra land there than the maps lead us to believe.”

  He laughed. “I can well imagine. Texas is like that. It just keeps on going. When you enter one end, the signs will tell you how many miles to El Paso, which is down south. It’s well over one thousand miles.”

  “Across one state?”

  “Yep.”

  They enjoyed their meal until Ivy looked almost finished. Colton could have eaten another cow, but he was determined to make this night about Ivy. And he didn’t want a too-full stomach. Ever since he’d considered holding her in his arms on the dance floor, a stop by the local club had become his number one objective for the night. Did the woman drive him crazy a little bit with her clipboard and her strict understanding of protocol and rules? Yes. Of course. But the more he spent time with her, when she had her hair down, so to speak, the more he thought he might be feeling the good kind of crazy.