by T. K. Rapp
I continue to walk around the massive store, stocking up on the remaining items Hattie listed, and a few she didn’t. I keep glancing around to see if I can find the woman I saw minutes earlier, but she’s nowhere in sight. She was probably better looking from afar anyway, I try to tell myself.
By the time I’m done, I check my watch, and I’m glad to see it took me no more than thirty minutes to get everything I need. There’s a duffle bag near the front that everything should fit into, so I grab it and set off to find Grayson.
He’s near the employee area, speaking with the woman who helped me out a minute ago. He sees me approaching and nods his chin and waves me over. His employee turns to see who he’s communicating with and rolls her eyes. I have no idea what I did to be on the receiving end of her attitude, but if she were my employee, she’d be gone. As I get closer, they wrap up their conversation, and she starts to walk away.
“Thank you for your help,” I pause to read her nametag, “Stefenie. I appreciate it.”
I laugh inwardly, because she and I both know she did nothing to help. Her surly demeanor softens slightly, and she looks somewhat embarrassed when she drops her head. “Enjoy your trip,” she answers weakly.
Grayson is standing there watching the exchange with fascination. When I am close enough, he scoffs watching her walk away. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Stef is one of our hardest working employees, but she’s got the worst attitude, that’s why we have her do things in the back. She’s had it out with customers, and we’ve had several complaints.”
“Why do you keep her around, then?”
“She’s my cousin.” He shrugs, turning for me to follow him to a lounge area.
I thought Jett was a pain in the ass, but at least he isn’t disrespectful to clients. At least I hope not. Cave is a family store, and here is this girl who has pissed off customers, to the point they hide her in the back?
“How long has she worked here?”
“She works here in the summer between semesters at school. Stef’s not really bad, she just doesn’t want to get stuck working here forever. I love this place. My dad used to bring me in all the time when I was a kid. I want nothing more than to run this place someday, but that’s not for Stef. She has dreams of going to acting school.”
“You’d think she’d learn to act like she liked this place and the customers.”
He laughs while he digs through the basket of stuff I grabbed. “You’re right; maybe I need to tell her that. So, did you find everything you need?”
“Yeah,” I reply, looking behind me in hopes of spotting the woman before I walk out.
Chapter 8
My duffle bag in one hand, and backpack slung from my other, I think I have the appearance of a seasoned camper. Cavette and Grayson lead the way toward the plane, but there are so many, I’m not sure which one we’re heading for. The wind is steady, and I’m unable to hear the conversation they’re carrying on, but when they stop, I know which aircraft we’re taking.
I don’t know planes. The only ones I have ever flown are commercial liners, but this one reads Cessna, and it’s a beauty. It’s larger than I was anticipating, which I’m grateful for, but I’m still filled with dread at the thought of being co-piloted by a novice. I wasn’t sure how four people were going to make the journey comfortably, but I think we’ll be fine. Now to get over the ‘fear of dying’ part of the flight.
I’m pleased to notice the representative from Rock Solid hasn’t show up. I’ve got this. I make it a point to arrive on time for every meeting with a client, one of the things I picked up from working with my dad when I was younger. Whoever my competition is isn’t making a good impression at the moment.
At least not in my opinion.
My mental pat on the back is halted when I take the four short steps into the aircraft. I am not quite prepared for what’s inside. Grayson clears his throat, and I step aside so he and the pilot can get near the cockpit.
When I walk toward the back of the aircraft, I’m given the opportunity to assess everything in front of me. There are plush beige leather seats, personal table space, and enough seats on this thing for nine people.
I set my duffle bag on the floor and choose a seat that has its back away from the cockpit, doing my best to cover my shocked appearance.
Grayson starts for the main door but steps aside to let his grandfather onto the plane. “I gotta grab a few things from the hangar with the captain,” he says before departing the plane. “We’ll be back in a minute, Pops.”
“That’s fine. We’re still waiting on one more anyway,” Cavette answers. Once inside, he turns toward me. “Have you ever flown on one of these before?”
“Sure haven’t,” I answer, reaching for the pullout table next to me. “This is a nice-looking piece of machinery.”
“Don’t be too impressed,” he offers with a laugh as he takes the seat opposite me. “Grayson’s been waiting to fly something like this. The one we usually take is a small prop plane, but I rented this one so we could fly in style.”
“What time are we taking off?”
“We’re just waiting for -”
“Me?” I hear a woman’s voice behind me.
Right. That’s why we’re running late. A woman.
“There she is,” Cavette announces with a boisterous smile. He stands up to greet her, so I follow suit. “Trey, this is Faith -” He doesn’t finish the introduction because as soon as I turn around, I know who she is.
“Young,” I conclude, extending a hand in acknowledgment. Her eyes contain a hint of shock, but she blinks it away as she looks at my proffered hand with suspicion. She finally reaches out and accepts it, her tiny hand stirring something inside of me. It’s like the feeling you’d get as a kid when you equally hated and liked a girl.
“You two know each other?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts as he looks between the two of us.
Hell yes we do, socially and biblically.
I hold on to her hand, waiting to see a glimmer of recognition from the bar in Denver or my place, but there’s nothing.
“Not exactly,” Faith chimes in with a devious smile, dragging her hand away.
“Only by reputation.” My tone is challenging, but I add a smile to take the bite out of my words.
“Go ahead and take your seat, Ms. Young. I’ll go find the captain and my grandson and let them know everyone’s here.” She smiles and steps aside so he can pass.
He wastes no time exiting the plane, leaving Faith and me in uncomfortable silence. The tension is palpable as neither of us look at the other, until I notice out of the corner of my eye her back is to me. She shimmies her bag off her shoulder and places it next to the seat he vacated. Her constant movements and fidgeting leave me feeling that she’s uneasy in my presence, and I wonder if it’s who I am, or something else.
Her back is to me while she digs for something in her purse, and she speaks up. “Reputation, huh?” Her tone is forward, but not quite rude.
“Excuse me?” I retort, reading the papers in my hand, feigning disinterest.
“You said you know me ‘by reputation;’ so what does that mean?” She finally sits down and rotates in her seat to look at me dead on.
My eyes are slow to meet hers, and I cross my arms over my chest. “What would you like it to mean?”
“Are you always this evasive?” she huffs.
“Are you always this suspicious? I mean you’re the one who gave ‘Doubt’ as her name?” I snap back.
“Well, when I’m dealing with someone who has the last name Miller, yes.”
It’s who I am. I guess she hates me on name alone, which is acceptable. For now.
“Would you rather I had admitted, I met her in a bar the other night?”
Her breath catches and I wait to see if she says anything - something to let me know she remembers the other night.
“Excuse me?” she snaps.
“I could have gone with the old
‘my brother says she’s someone I’m supposed to remember.’ Like that one?”
“And how is your brother?” she asks, but I can tell by her annoyed tone, it’s not a question she really cares to hear answered.
“Was he that bad?”
“I suppose he wasn’t any worse than say, a pit bull. I guess we all have one person from our childhood that did their best to torture the crap out of us. As it happens for me, it was your brother.”
“You know what they say, about boys picking on girls.” I wait for her to respond, but she doesn’t. “Probably means he liked you,” I say with an exaggerated tone.
She turns her eyes to mine and nods her head. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one, too. But I was raised to believe if a boy liked me, he was going to be nice and treat me with respect, not tease me and make me cry.”
“That’s an interesting take on things. Why is that?” I cross my arms across my chest and wait for her to elaborate.
She shrugs and finishes the thought. “Think about it, if girls are told from a young age that ‘oh, he’s picking on you, or teasing, hitting, pushing…it means he likes you.’ Well, what happens to that same girl when she’s a teen or adult in an abusive relationship? ‘Oh, he gave me a black eye, he must be in love with me.’ Kinda messed up, don’t you think?”
I’m at a loss for words. How did an innocent comment spur this response? She does make sense, although I’m taken aback. “That’s a little deep for a first conversation, don’t you think?”
Her cheeks flush and she shrugs her shoulders. “You asked, and besides, it’s not our first conversation.”
“Well, if makes you feel any better, Jett annoyed everyone and still does. Don’t take it personal.”
“Trust me; I don’t.”
“Well, I’m sorry he was an ass, but can I ask, what’s your issue with me? And before you say anything, I wasn’t trying to hit on you last night.”
“Is that the same story you told your girlfriend?” She raises a brow and sits back to wait for my response.
“Kayla?” I can’t help but laugh at her conclusion, but I don’t clarify my friendship. “She’s the one who told me to talk to you. Actually, she said you were looking at me.”
For a moment, I think I might have gotten to her, but then she squirms in her seat and relaxes into the leather. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
I am about to say something equally adolescent when the captain, Grayson, and Cavette enter the cabin while carrying on a conversation, putting a halt to ours.
“Faith.” Grayson smiles, reminding me of those cartoonish wolves you’d see on Saturday mornings as a kid. The only thing missing is the smoke coming out of his ears.
“Good to see you again, Grayson.” Her body relaxes when he walks over to the seat across from her. They engage in small talk while I feign interest in my phone that has received neither a phone call nor text, and I’m envious how easy it is for them. I use the opportunity to my advantage and glean whatever bits I can from their conversation, which isn’t much.
Apparently she went to another popular bar after she left Ale’s Well last night. She was dressed up for a night on the town in a classy black off the shoulder dress that showed off her legs. I thought it was a bit overkill for where we were, but if she and her friends had other places to be, maybe that helps to explain her hasty exit.
That reason works better than the possibility that she remembers the other night and left disappointed.
I think back to the woman at the store and catch a side glimpse of Faith. I notice she seems to be wearing the same attire as the stranger, and I’m almost certain it was her I saw earlier.
I thought she looked beautiful last night, but today her attire is relaxed, like mine. She doesn’t seem like she’s trying too hard in her shorts and tank top. Her hair is gathered into a ponytail, and she doesn’t appear to be wearing much makeup. She’s almost able to pull off the “experienced camper” facade, if it weren’t for the new hiking boots that have never been worn before. If we have to do any walking, she’s going to be hurting.
“Did you get everything you needed at the store earlier?” Grayson asks, piquing my attention.
It was her.
“I did. Jaxon was very helpful,” she says, smiling at Grayson.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you before you left; I was finishing up a few things.”
“No worries,” she chirps. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to talk this weekend.”
The captain clears his throat to get Grayson’s attention and it could come any sooner. This guy is obviously interested in Faith, and she’s eating it up.
“Count on it,” he says while standing up.
He excuses himself and follows the older man to the cockpit. Cavette, Faith, and I turn to watch as they maneuver themselves through the small opening to take their seats. It looks awkward, but somehow they manage and the captain prepares everything to fly us to Texas.
Faith pulls her legs together and tucks them underneath her as she attempts to get comfortable. She leans down to get something out of her bag, giving me a view I’m sure she doesn’t intend. I can’t peel my eyes from her, even though my head is warning me to turn away. She glances up and our eyes meet, causing my pulse to quicken. There’s a smile playing on her lips and a tinge of red touches her cheeks, but she quickly narrows her eyes at me and adjusts her shirt as she sits up.
Faith kissing my neck.
Faith removing her shirt.
Faith dancing against me.
In a single moment, flashes of her inundate my head and now the papers in my hand are wrinkling from the frustrated grip I have on them. I roll my neck and release a breath as I try to relax and focus on whom I’m here for, and it’s not Faith.
This is going to be a long weekend.
* * *
I closed my eyes shortly before takeoff. I was so stressed about the meeting I didn’t get much sleep last night. Hell, the entire running around today didn’t help either. I’m aware Faith has her laptop open because I can hear her tapping away on the keyboard with rapid movement. Cavette, on the other hand, I’m not quite sure. I haven’t opened my eyes to check, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s reading something.
“So, Cal,” Faith starts, waiting to get his attention. “What is it you’re looking for in your marketing fir -”
“Ms. Young,” he interrupts with a soft tone. “There’ll be plenty of time for that this weekend. Let’s enjoy the flight. Tell me, have you been camping before?”
When he asks the question, I raise my head and wait to see what her response is. I’m curious about this, too. She squirms uncomfortably under his spotlight but pushes through.
“It’s been a long time,” she admits with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “My family used to go a couple of times a year when I was growing up, but the last time I went, I was about ten.”
My stomach does a weird drop inside, and it has nothing to do with flying. If Jett’s right, that’s around the age she was when her brother died. I wonder if they stopped going because of that?
Cavette nods, accepting her answer and turns to me. “What about you, Trey?”
I’m still looking at her when she turns to me, and there’s some unspoken agreement taking place. I can’t describe the moment, or what it does to me, but it takes everything I have to drag my gaze from her to answer Cavette. I can tell she’s still studying me, but I don’t look back.
“Yeah.” I fumble over the word and laugh. “Same. Used to go with my family every year. We’d plan it out months in advance and traveled all over the country checking out different spots. I still manage to get out and fish, but the camping part, I haven’t done in years.”
“What kind of fishing do you do?”
“Since I’m in Denver, freshwater. But I’ve gone on a few trips with some buddies. We chartered a boat out in the Gulf to do some saltwater fishing a few years ago. That was pretty crazy.”
“Catch
anything good?”
“Me?” I laugh and shake my head. “Nah, but my buddy caught a blue marlin. He still brags about the thing.”
“I’d love to catch one of those babies,” he says with a wistful smile. “What about you, Ms. Young, do you fish?”
“I’m afraid not.” She grins. “I never could get over touching the bait. I always made my dad or my brother do it for me.”
We settle in to light conversation about our camping experiences, and I notice Faith is careful not to divulge too much about her family. It’s none of my business and apparently it’s something she is trying to keep to herself, so I’m careful not to ask any loaded questions or corner her into answering something.
As much as I am eager to steal this client away from her, I have to admit I can see why she’s in the running. She’s easygoing and charming, and not only is Grayson interested in her, Cavette seems to genuinely enjoy her company.
In my experience with Rock Solid, we were trained to keep our distance from the clients, relying on email and phone calls for interaction. They wanted our focus on the big fish, and someone like Cavette was barely a blip on their radar. As she talks about her work, her enthusiasm is contagious. Hell, I find I think Rock Solid sounds like a great company. She’s engaging and animated as she gushes about loving what she does.
I’m curious how it is that Rock Solid has been able to hang on to Faith, because she has something you don’t see from their representatives.
Passion.
“I’m going to check on Gray,” Cavette bellows after unbuckling his seat belt. “Don’t go killin’ each other.”
The older Cavette heads to the cockpit and kneels on the ground and begins talking to the two men navigating the plane. The silence that he leaves behind is louder than the roar of the engine.
My eyes remain trained on the small window, although there is nothing but blue sky to look at. I can feel her eyes on me, and I’m tempted to turn her way. Instead, I opt to channel my inner-Jett. “Keep staring and everyone will know you’re into me.”
I turn to her and see Faith gaping at me with shock-filled eyes. “You are not seriously that arrogant, are you?”
