Come Fly With Me (10 page)

“I know that.”

“So, what do you say? Do I need to walk away? Because”—he leaned over the table—“just between us friends, I really don’t want to.”

He watched the emotions flit across her face—frustration to desire to sadness—and wasn’t immune to any of it. But how did he break through her resistance and encourage her to explore what was between them?

Of what could be between them.

“Can we work on the friendship part and think about the rest? I’m a good friend. And I know how to do that part of my life really, really well. Just ask Sloan and Avery.”

Mick fought the disappointment that settled in his gut and focused on the positive. She was in a tough spot in her life and if he didn’t give her space, he’d have nothing. “I’m not sure I’m up to the gossip requirements.”

“So we’ll talk about Walker’s nice ass. That’s a good place to start.”

Grier took a deep breath as Mick’s laughter echoed off the walls of the hangar. Whatever she’d expected coming here, the comfortable, easy acceptance he offered her wasn’t it.

She did enjoy his company. The easy camaraderie was warm and welcome and rather unique in her life. She had several female friends but couldn’t say she had all that many male friends. Of course, she didn’t want to attack any of her female friends in a sexual frenzy, so perhaps the whole “let’s be friends” theory needed work.

She reached for her burger and took a bite, willing some sort of answer from the delicious combination of beef and cheese. When all she got was a scrumptious mouthful of ecstasy that screamed,
Seize the moment of sin,
she figured the burger wasn’t the best source of wisdom.

“What’s up with the plane?”

“Routine maintenance.”

“I noticed something on the flight up and again today. You really understand that flying the plane’s only a part of being a pilot. You pay attention to your equipment and you seem to care about the plane as much as flying it.”

“Let me let you in on a little secret.”

Mick leaned forward and she found herself drawn inexorably toward him, his blue eyes pulling her in despite herself. “What’s that?”

“I actually like to feel confident the plane’s going to stay up in the air when I fly it.”

The laughter filled the space between them again and Grier couldn’t have held back the carefree feeling if she’d wanted to. “I can see how that would be of concern.”

His smile faded as his gaze warmed. “It’s good to see you smile.”

A denial rose to her lips, but she held it back. Whatever feelings she fought for Mick, she couldn’t fight the fact that he noticed things.

Because he actually
saw
her.

Saw her in a way no one else ever had.

“Why do you say that?”

“You’ve had a lot on your plate since coming here. A lot of missed years to sort through. And then there’s Kate.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“If you’re looking.”

Grier appreciated the honesty. It was raw and biting, but at least he wasn’t hiding from the truth.

Mick continued. “I obviously couldn’t hear what was said, but I could see your conversation with Kate didn’t go all that well the other night.”

“What gave you that idea? We didn’t fight.”

“It was the look on your face as you spoke to her.”

Grier wadded her napkin into a tight ball. “What look?”

“Like she slowly chipped away at your heart with each and every word.”

“Aren’t you the poet?” When her joke didn’t elicit a reply, she opted for the question she was suddenly desperate to know the answer to. “You saw that?”

“I did. What did she say?”

“It wasn’t much, really. Just how much my father loved this time of year.”

“He did love this time of year. Had the best light display on the entire block. Better than anyone in town, really.”

Grier pictured the small A-frame on Spruce Street, lit from top to bottom. “See. That’s a nice memory, told with a small smile and a glint of remembrance in your gaze. I can picture it in my mind and the thought of it makes me happy.”

“That’s good.”

“It is. It makes me happy to think of him as a real person with real interests.”

“But?”

“But from Kate, it was like she was trying to prove something to me. Like how well she knew him and all the private moments they shared together. Which, well, no shit. I
know
that already. The whole damn town knows it. I’m the bastard child he never knew.”

“Grier—”

She waved a hand to stop him. “I don’t mean that quite as sordidly as it sounds. But I do mean to say none of this is a secret, Mick. I’m the kid he never knew. Never took the time to know. Nothing can change that and frankly, I fucking resent that Kate can’t see that.”

“She’s always been a bit brittle, if you know what I mean. Nice enough, but it’s always been layered over a slight veneer of resentment.”

“That’s awfully astute of you.”

“I hear way more than I want to hanging out all day with an airport full of the town’s best gossips. And I listen to far more than they give me credit for.” That bright twinkle was back in his eyes. “Shhh. Don’t give away my secrets.”

Grier made a quick cross over her chest with her finger. “I swear.”

“Anyway, she can be as positive and happy about Jonas as she wants to now, but she also can’t rewrite history. He was gone a lot of the time for work and it never set well with her. After her mother died, he tried to be home more, but by that time she was a teenager with her own thoughts and ideas.”

Mick sat back and wadded up the waxed paper from his burger. “All I’m saying is that from an outsider’s perspective, the two of them had their problems the same as other people. It might make her feel better to try to forget that now, but it doesn’t change the facts.”

If she was surprised at his frank words, she was even more puzzled by her reaction to them.

A small kernel of sympathy had opened for Kate and she wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. “That’s sort of sad.”

“It is, actually. You can’t do anything about your choices once someone’s gone. That’s why it’s far better to fix things when you can.”

“You believe that?”

“My attitude about life is pretty similar to my attitude about planes.”

She glanced at the plane that sat on the opposite side of the hangar. “How so?”

“You do the maintenance to keep things running smoothly. It doesn’t mean things don’t break from time to time, but you make a point to fix them so they don’t do any more damage.”

Struck by the wisdom, Grier could only stare at the man. How he sat easily across from her, his large frame eating up the folding chair and his shoulders blocking the counter from view.

He was a special man. An honest one, too.

Despite her need to stay aloof and distant, with his simple words she knew with absolute certainty Mick O’Shaughnessy had chipped away at another piece of her heart.

J
ason heard his flight announced in a soft, mild voice over the PA system. The gentle swell of conversation hummed around him in the airport executive lounge, but most of it was a dull blur as he thought through his strategy once more.

He didn’t know what had taken him so long, but now that he had settled on a course of action, he wasn’t going to be deterred.

He’d win Grier back. Groveling would be involved and while it wasn’t an enticing prospect, he’d earned his punishment fair and square. He’d take his lumps like a man and at the end of it, he’d have his fiancée back and they could move on with their lives.

Or life together, as it were.

If that thought stuck in his gut in a tight knot, there was no help for it. A good man knew where he’d gone wrong and corrected his mistakes.

And he was a good man.

Add to it that he could combine this trip with a jaunt to the Seattle office to see one of their key Pacific Rim clients and he was hard-pressed to argue with the
serendipity of it all. He’d spend a week in Seattle, then head for Alaska.

It was perfect.

He glanced at his BlackBerry once more and the note from Grier’s mother.

It hadn’t escaped him that the note held more orders than advice, but seeing as how they were all couched in Patrice Thompson’s überpolite phrasing, Jason chalked it up to yet another round of punishment he needed to take with a smile.

With a last sip of the scotch he’d nursed since entering the airport lounge, he gathered up his things.

He was a good man.

Time to start acting like one.

The gentle hum of conversation at the Jitters did nothing to calm Grier’s nerves. She reached for her spoon and stirred a couple of sugars into the frothy foam of her cappuccino, then lifted the mug to take a large sip.

It had been five days since she’d had her phone interview for the job and still had heard nothing.

Five long days in which she’d done nothing but read, catch up on the TV she’d missed for the last several months and balance her checkbook.

Twice.

She was going stir-crazy.

An old
Vanity Fair
sat on a nearby table and she reached for it, determined to enjoy her coffee and another endless hour of private time. She’d read the Proust questionnaire and enjoy it, damn it.

“I talked to Tasty.”

Grier looked up into Chooch’s bright gaze. She had had no idea the woman went anywhere without her husband, Hooch, by her side, but he was nowhere in sight. “Hello.”

“Let me get my coffee and then we’re going to have us a little chat.”

“All—all right.” Grier wondered at the sudden demand but wasn’t going to argue. Company was company and she was sick to death of her own.

Within moments, the older woman was back at her side with a steaming mug of something resembling a candy bar.

“What is that?”

“Today’s special. A caramel mocha.”

“Is that a Twix bar for a stir stick?”

“Yep.” Chooch smiled as she reached for the candy. “My own special invention.”

Grier sent off a quick prayer the woman wasn’t going to end up in a diabetic coma and put her best manners to use. “I’d say you’re inspired.”

“Hooch sure thinks so.” She laughed and slapped her knee before leaning forward. “But you weren’t asking about our sex lives.”

“Um, no.” Grier reached for her own coffee, her Upper East Side manners no match for an adequate response.

“I want you to do our taxes.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Taxes. You know, we gotta pay ’em. I’ve been talking to Hooch and our eyesight’s not what it once was. And he fucked ’em up so badly last year, we ended up owing. And you did help Tasty with that mess of stuff he’s got in his computer. So I want you to do them.”

“Well—”

“You are an accountant, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll pay you.”

“It’s not about payment.” Grier saw the woman’s eyes narrow in glee and quickly added, “Not that I couldn’t come up with a more-than-fair pricing structure. But what I meant was, are you sure you want me knowing your personal information?”

When Chooch just stared at her, Grier added, “Your annual income.”

“Oh, that.” Chooch waved a hand. “Don’t matter if you do know. Hooch and I are right rich. He made a few million on the pipeline and we’ve invested well. Everyone knows that. No reason you can’t know, too.”

“Oh, okay. Well, then.”

“I’ll be by tomorrow with our receipts. We’ll set up in the conference room at the hotel.”

“Okay.”

Chooch nodded and stood, clearly satisfied with the conversation. “I’m going to get this to go. Gotta get back out to the house before that man watches too many reruns of
America’s Top Model
and gets ideas in his head. I’ve got things to accomplish today and I can’t spend the whole damn afternoon in bed.”

Grier wondered immediately what had possessed her to take a sip of her coffee before Chooch had finished speaking, but she managed just barely to keep from choking. Once she could speak again, she added a polite, “Of course not.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Ten o’clock?”

“Ten it is.”

Grier watched Chooch swirl out of the coffee bar as fast as she came in, a to-go cup in her hand.

The thought flitted briefly through her mind to be careful what she wished for. But she couldn’t deny her cappuccino and magazine were a whole lot more interesting now that she knew she had something to do tomorrow.

“Does this satisfy your need to do something social for the evening?” A small smile hovered on Avery’s face as Ronnie, their bartender at Maguire’s, lined up a row of tequila shots.

“This is exactly what I was talking about.” Grier nodded as she licked her hand, then reached for the shaker of salt Ronnie placed next to the small glasses. “I’ve no interest in getting drunk, but a nice comfortable buzz with like-minded adults is just what the doctor ordered.”

“I heard you’ve got a job tomorrow,” Jess added as she took the saltshaker.

“Word travels fast,” Grier couldn’t resist adding with a dry tone.

Avery passed shot glasses from the bar, then held her own up. “To the small-town grapevine. May it forever bloom.”

Grier clinked her glass with the two others, then drank down the rich tequila. She quickly reached for her lime to complete the ritualistic triumvirate practiced the world over and took a satisfied drag on the sour fruit. “Now that’s a good start to girls’ night out.”

Her friends smiled as they all reached for the waiting beers that now lined the bar. “Thanks, Ronnie.” Avery nodded as they each picked up their drinks and headed for an empty booth in the back.

“He likes you,” Jess whispered as they slid into their seats a few moments later.

“Who?” Avery looked puzzled and it took all Grier had not to laugh outright.

“Um, Ronnie.” Jess pointed back toward the bar where their bartender stood with a thoughtful look on his face. “He can’t keep his eyes off you.”