Taking Flight (A Devereux Novel)

by Whiskey, D. G.

  How could she say no to those eager eyes? Luckily, it fell right into her plan. “Yes.” Becky jumped out of her chair to celebrate, but Sara raised her finger to head her off before she got too out of hand. “On one condition!”

  Becky waited with her head cocked. “One condition? I can do that. One condition is easy. What is it?”

  “I can’t…” Sara’s throat closed up as she tried to finish her sentence. Hot tears flooded her eyes. It was still hard to even think about, let alone say. “I can’t fly.” The words were a struggle, but she spit them out. “We’ll have to drive it.”

  Becky’s expression shifted to gentle concern, her forehead creased as she came to sit next to Sara and wrap an arm around her. “Hey, Sara, it’s all right. I understand. It’s still too soon, I get it. We don’t have to fly. I know it’s difficult.”

  “No, it’s not just too soon.” Sara said. “I won’t be able to fly ever again. Michael…” She couldn’t continue, but thankfully Becky didn’t expect more. She just wrapped her arms around her roommate and let her cry it out.

  I can’t believe I’m planning on doing this.

  Derek strolled through the open doors into the bustling ballroom. Eyes and cameras followed his every move as he made his way through the press of people to grab a drink from the bar at the opposite side from the entrance.

  “Derek! There you are!”

  Oh, perfect. It was the commissioner, the last person Derek wanted to see. Evan’s warning had haunted him, and eventually he’d decided in favor of caution. The official opening gala for the air race season was the perfect place to announce his retirement from the exclusive and popular sport, but he didn’t intend on giving the commissioner the chance to talk him out of it before he could make his announcement.

  “Frederick! How good to see you. And you are looking smashing as usual, Sandra.” He shook hands with the older man and submitted to the mandatory kiss on the cheek and too-close hug from his wife. “You’ve outdone yourself with the season-opening festivities this year, Fred.”

  The commissioner waved his hands around, encompassing the rich atmosphere, opulent decorations and veritable galaxy of stars wandering around. “Oh, this? Merely a small dinner party.”

  They laughed, but Derek couldn’t help but think that maybe it was an accurate statement from someone of Frederick’s stature. The air racing league was unlike any other sport in the country. The pilots were almost exclusively wealthy and competed not for winnings, but for the fun of it—it was a real boy’s club. When everyone involved had more money than God and infinite leisure, there weren’t many ways in which to prove one was better than everyone else, and the air races gave an avenue for that latent aggression and display of male dominance. Derek enjoyed emerging triumphant over the stuck-up bastards who raced against him.

  “Derek, I hope you are ready for an even bigger, better, more thrilling season than ever. You are our biggest star, you know, and the biggest draw. I know you don’t need the money, or the fame, but I can guarantee you never feel more alive than when you are fighting the G-forces and racing to get the record for fastest run, am I right?”

  At the sound of Frederick’s words, Derek itched to have the throttle in his hands while ensconced in his cockpit. For the whir of the engine and sweetly tuned roar as he took his plane through its paces and they ran the course as a perfect meld between man and machine.

  “It is… thrilling, you are correct,” Derek said. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have only just arrived and don’t want to ignore those who wish to talk with me.” His language always grew more stilted and correct around Frederick, the result of new money brushing elbows with old money and attempting to blend in without too much notice.

  “Of course, of course, enjoy yourself. I wouldn’t want your admirers to be deprived of your absence for any longer than necessary!” Frederick shooed him away, but Sandra’s eyes followed him as he left. The woman was a natural-born cougar.

  Although he had begged off to meet and mingle with the rest of the guests, Derek avoided as many people as he could while making his way to a less busy area of the room. Raised away from the limelight, he still found it difficult to deal with being the focus of so much attention at one time. He’d taught himself to thrive in the sea of admiration as much as possible, but occasionally it became too much and he needed to seek shelter.

  It was impossible to avoid everyone, so Derek found himself caught in one meaningless conversation after another. After being waylaid by several people whose names he couldn’t even remember, he looked around for an out. A slim blonde with smoky blue eyes stood off in another group of people, but looked right at him. Derek lost the thread of the pointless conversation as he locked eyes with the woman.

  “Derek!” The brunette he had been speaking with slapped his arm playfully. “You are such a ditz. Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

  He looked at her face, still not sensing a hint of recognition stirring anywhere within him. He could afford to be just shy of polite with this one. “Ah, no, I didn’t. Forgive me, I just saw someone I must go talk to.”

  He left her standing there with her jaw hanging open. He would have laughed if the blonde wasn’t already gone, no longer where she had been a scant twenty seconds before.

  Where did she go? She was right there. Derek mulled his options. The brunette came back his way, so he ducked around a corner and stumbled into his least favorite person in the world.

  “You know, I hardly think it’s fair, actually,” the man was saying to a group of men and women. “I probably shouldn’t even be allowed to compete this year. I’m so good they have to reduce my plane’s power just to give the other guys a fighting chance.”

  Rex Trator. The one person everyone else on the tour agreed was the biggest douche there. No one except for his cronies would sit with him or even speak with him unless they had to. He hammed it up, and Frederick put up with the complaints from the others because the rivalry angle worked so well for the publicity of the race series. Derek would not miss having to deal with Rex once he withdrew from the league.

  “Oh, speak of the devil. Derek Devereux, ladies and gentlemen! What wonderful timing, man. I was just telling them about how I’m going to destroy the field this year. I’ve been practicing for weeks, and I wish for your sake I was lying when I said I’m even faster than last year.”

  “Rex.” Derek nodded in a cordial manner he did not feel in the slightest. “Having fun spinning your fiction again? You said the same bullshit at the start of last season, and I beat you… what, seventy percent of the time?”

  As the heads of the spectators whipped back and forth between the two men, Rex merely laughed. “Oh, I was just spinning my wheels last time, Derek, but no longer. I’m confident in my superiority. Just wait and see what happens when we get out there, you won’t even know what hit you.”

  Derek shook his head. I’m so glad I won’t have to deal with this asshole anymore. “Whatever, Rex.” He walked away, unwilling to stay long enough to hear the inevitable comeback.

  He needed to find the time and space to make his announcement. It would be best if he could head off Frederick’s season-opening speech, which would go into exquisite detail on the pilots and why they made the league so amazing. Not the note he wanted to follow by telling everyone he wouldn’t compete this year. It would not be great for Frederick’s image to be taken so unaware by his reigning champion resigning.

  The microphone stood by itself on the stage—Derek could walk up there and start talking. It wouldn’t be the first time he had taken command of a party unexpectedly, and he had cultivated the image of a man who was able and willing to do whatever he pleased. The audacity was part of what had endeared him to the high society types in Los Angeles, and something that gave him an extra kick. It was something else to act like you were better than everyone else, or at least that you had no rules restricting your ability to do what you wanted.

  As he set out to cross the floor and
take the podium, a sparkling blonde he glimpsed out of the corner of his eye stopped him in his tracks. It was the woman from earlier, and she watched him once more, this time from the other side of the bar. She smiled just a little when his eyes caught hers with an almost physical hold.

  He froze, indecision halting his progress. He looked toward the microphone and then across the room to where Frederick held forth with several of his older moneyed generation. It will take him a while to extricate himself from them and make the speech. I’ve still got time.

  Derek’s frustration reached a peak when he changed course to the bar and found it devoid of the blonde. Are you kidding me? Again?

  He kept walking, scanning the crowd carefully and examining each group of people as he passed to make sure he didn’t miss her. To his surprise, he got all the way to the bar without success.

  “Scotch,” he said. He had to force himself not to growl at the bartender. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t have the gently curled blonde hair and smoky eyes he looked for.

  Where are you?

  Derek worked the room, touching base with the people he knew, greeting those from the social circles he ran with. Actors and models, mostly, but there were several people famous simply for being famous, and others famous for being rich. As I suppose I am, he mused. Although I hope my wealth is more opaque than most others’.

  With a ruthless determination, he never lost sight of what had become his primary goal for the night. When he finally spotted the curly blonde locks again, he was ready. This time she hadn’t seen him first, and he made his move.

  This is more exhausting than I thought it would be. It’s just a party, after all!

  Sara hustled for all the information she could glean, all while keeping up her guise as the girlfriend of a small-time actor who’d scored an invitation and conveniently didn’t exist. She and Becky had arrived in Los Angeles a few days ago, and after probing all her sources, Sara still had made no headway into discovering more about Derek Devereux’s past. Her luck had hit a peak when a friend of hers found out Derek would be at an event for the stunt airplane racing league he competed in.

  It had been a long time since Sara had put her talents as an investigative journalist to the test. She’d put out feelers to every friend she still had in the city, and their friends, until she came away with a connection—someone who worked security at the event. They would let her into the gala—for a small fee.

  Then it was time to go to work. It was a delicate balance being at a party you didn’t belong at. At an event such as this, nobody knew everybody, but everybody knew somebody. Sara had to work to build a rapport with a few groups of people so she couldn’t be caught out. It was easier to slip back into an assumed persona than she thought it would be. She hadn’t done real investigative work since the accident two years before, and while she was a little rusty, it didn’t take long to work the kinks out.

  The first time she caught sight of Derek across the room, she was glued to the spot. He was even more handsome in person than he was in the countless pictures pasted across the tabloids and the Internet. She couldn’t even imagine what it might feel like to be standing right next to him. When he noticed her looking from across the room, she flushed. Caught red-handed. As soon as he looked away, she bolted.

  Whew. That was close. Her heart pounded from the rush of meeting his eyes like that. She doubted he would even remember her within a minute or two. He must be used to random people staring at him, considering his fame and good looks. Plus in a party like this, people were bound to randomly lock gazes here and there. It’s fine.

  Sara sidled up to a friend she’d made earlier in the night, an actress who hadn’t hit it big yet, but had been in a couple well-received supporting roles in smaller movies. “Hey, Melody, how’s it going?”

  “Oh, good, Sara. How are you enjoying the party? Your boyfriend letting you roam free for now?”

  It had been a couple years since someone had talked to Sara about having a boyfriend, and she fought off the pang of sorrow deep in her chest. Somehow she summoned a smile to her face. “Oh, you know how it is. I’m not even sure where he is, but he’ll turn up by the end of the night. Just before it’s time to go, I’m sure.”

  They shared a laugh.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m a little new to town and I noticed Derek Devereux is here. Do you know much about him?” Sara tried to be nonchalant, but she didn’t have to bother hiding her interest too much. There were no young women in the city who weren’t interested in the young and wealthy bachelor, no matter their own relationship status.

  “Derek? Oh my God, you haven’t met him yet?” Melody’s expression perked up as though she was about to let her new friend in on an amazing secret. “He is the most amazing guy. That face… mmm!” Her eyes glazed as she stared wistfully into the distance.

  Sara couldn’t help but smile, although it wasn’t the information she was looking for. She had felt that pure magnetism in the few seconds she’d met his eyes. “He is gorgeous, that’s a fact,” Sara agreed. “Have you ever talked with him? I’ve heard he’s a little mysterious.”

  Sara had found over the years that playing dumb and asking innocuous questions was the best way to extract information from people without them even realizing it was happening. It was in human nature to want to be seen as knowledgeable and important.

  “Oh, many times! Derek and I have had some good chats.” The way Melody said it gave Sara the impression she may exaggerate her experiences. “He’s easy to talk to, you know. I mean, it’s intimidating, but also gives you that thrill, you know?”

  Sara kept an open and impressed look on her face. “Wow! What did you talk about?”

  “Oh, just little things, small talk, you know. He was at a party for one of my movies. It was surprising he showed up—everyone was so thrilled. That alone probably helped it do a little better than it might have otherwise.” Melody nattered on for a while longer, the conversation shifting away from Derek and onto the movie’s performance and her hopes for a spin-off where she might get a leading role, and how big of a break that would be for her.

  She knows nothing about him. That much was clear. If Melody had gotten close with Derek, she would have been more than happy to brag about it to her new closest admirer. It was a disappointment, but expected. Getting information about the man would be even more difficult than Sara had thought.

  At the earliest possible opportunity, Sara excused herself and made her way to the bar, determined to scout out a better connection that might be more useful to her goals.

  As she waited for her drink, Sara scanned the room. It was amazing how many stars were there in one place, for what a normal person might have assumed would be a non-event. Could this many people care about rich boys who flew their planes around an obstacle course? Or was it just the new chic thing, a past-time that leant a certain cachet to the audience?

  She spotted Derek and watched as he left a group of people at the side of the room. She recognized Rex, one of his regular opponents in the air races. That was one thing certain from her preliminary research—there was no love lost between those two.

  Then, the dark eyes swept across her again. For the second time that night, they met hers and stayed. A tingle swept along the back of Sara’s neck, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in years. She couldn’t help but smile a little at her body’s reaction to the eye contact.

  Uh oh. He’s not looking away. She hadn’t thought she might attract Derek’s attention on the first night she was near him. Getting close and talking to him was a virtual necessity for the story and her investigation, but that would come much later—when she had all the background she needed to ask the right questions. She was not ready for a meeting yet.

  Despite her thoughts, she couldn’t bring herself to drop her eyes. It was impossible to stop looking at that face.

  He looked away, and Sara took a deep breath. Unable to think of a better escape, she pretended to drop her purse and crouched d
own behind the bar to pick it up. Damn. That was intense. It took a minute for her to regain her breath, all the while she pretended to search through her purse for lip gloss.

  She peered over the bar. Derek stood a few feet away, leaning back against the other side of the U-shaped bar, facing toward the room. Shit!

  Creeping away, Sara slipped off in the other direction, toward the women’s bathrooms. She waited, pretending to play with her phone just around the corner until Derek walked off and mingled with other guests again.

  It’s time to see what his rival has to say about him. Another tip Sara had learned was that it was always easier to get a person talking about an enemy than a friend. You had to be more careful about sorting through the responses for the real truth, but they were more likely to tell you damaging information that could lead to unexpected avenues of research than friends were.

  Rex and his cronies were still ensconced in their little nook on the far side of the room. Sara took care to plan her route to take her through the opposite side of the dance floor from the path that Derek had taken.

  She was about twenty feet from her destination when she ducked around a pillar and came face-to-face with dark gray eyes and a chiseled jawline—the features of the man she was desperately unprepared to meet.

  “Why hello there,” Derek said. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before, have we?”

  He held his hand out to the blonde, who wore a surprised look that softened into a brilliant smile.

  Her hand was warm and soft in his own. Firm, but inviting.

  “I’m Sara, it’s nice to meet you. Up close, anyway.”

  He smiled, “It took some effort to track you down, I thought I would have to keep settling for looks traded across the room all night. I’m Derek.”

  Sara’s face grew pensive. “Derek…? Do you have a last name, Derek?”

  He didn’t know if she was being serious or not, but either way he was surprised. Most women were more than happy to pretend like they were old friends and knew each other intimately. “Devereux.”