Dots of angry color appeared on her cheeks. “I was trying to barter with you in a way that would benefit us both. I was thinking more along the lines of trading my piloting skills for your business acumen. You need to travel. I have a plane. I want to save my company and the jobs of all Falcon’s employees. Gage, I don’t want your money. You have to believe me. I love you.”
A jolt from a defibrillator would hurt less. The pain jarred his body. Her declaration was a perfect example that women would say and do anything to get what they wanted. How many times had his ex sworn she loved him? How many times had he looked into her eyes and believed her lies? How many times had he been a fool?
And then Angela and her lawyers had screwed him over. He’d almost lost Faulkner Consulting. As it was, she’d stripped him of every liquid asset he had, and he’d had to start rebuilding the security he’d worked so damned hard for from scratch because of her greed.
But he wanted to believe Lauren, ached to believe her, and his weakness disgusted him. “No.”
“No? That’s it? No?”
“You’re on your own. I no longer need a pilot or you. Goodbye, Lauren. You know your way out.”
She stared at him for ten full seconds, her bottom lip quivering until she caught it between her teeth, then she turned and staggered from the room. He was a little surprised she didn’t argue. He had to fight the compulsion to go after her as he listened to her climb the stairs then descend moments later. The front door opened then closed. Lauren’s big V-10 engine roared in the driveway then the sound faded away.
He congratulated himself on averting another disastrous mercenary relationship.
But the relief he’d expected to feel was nowhere in sight.
Lauren stared at the life insurance check in her hand and recounted the zeroes.
She looked up at her uncle Lou. “This is enough to pay off everything Dad borrowed against Falcon Air and give us a nice cushion. Our financial problems are solved.”
So why didn’t she feel better?
“Hallelujah. Now if we can get your personal problems fixed, we’ll be right as rain.”
She stiffened. She thought she’d done a better job of hiding her broken heart by diving right in and assuming her dad’s old duties in addition to hers. “I don’t have any problems.”
“Bull. You’ve been moping around here for three weeks. If your face gets any longer you’ll run over your bottom lip with your landing gear.”
“I’m pulling my weight.”
“Yes, baby girl, you are. But like the sign behind you says, ‘Making a living is not the same as making a life.’” He pointed to the sign hanging on the wall behind her father’s—now her desk. “You’re running on autopilot and logging too many hours. I’m guessing you have unfinished business back in Knoxville. And I don’t mean with your momma.”
“Then you’d be guessing wrong. Without trust you have nothing. And that’s what I left in Knoxville. Nothing.” Too bad her heart hadn’t signed off on that plan.
She rubber-stamped the back of the check with For Deposit Only then rose and gathered her gear. “I have a lesson to teach. Send Joey out to the Cirrus when he gets here.”
She slapped Lou in the belly with the check as she passed. “Take this to the bank when you leave for lunch.”
“Lauren, it hurts me to see you like this.”
Lou’s gruff, but gentle voice stopped her in the doorway. Her aching heart swelled for love of this man. He and Falcon Air were all she had left. “Don’t sweat it, Lou. It’s like a cold. I’ll get over it.”
She pivoted and strode out of the office. Her stupid stinging eyes started watering again. Damn Florida’s fall grass and weed pollen.
She shoved on her sunglasses then walked around her newly refinanced airplane, doing her preflight check even though she knew she’d make her student repeat the process. The routine soothed her.
As soon as she’d returned from Knoxville, she’d applied for a new loan. When the loan had come through last week she’d mailed a check to Trent with a brief explanation because she’d known her mother wouldn’t accept her money. Her half brother hadn’t bothered to reply. Said a lot about what he thought of her. But that was just as well. She wanted nothing to do with the Hightowers, either.
Tomorrow when the life insurance check cleared, she’d pay off the rest of Falcon’s debts, and she’d once again be free and clear except for the Cirrus.
Life was good.
So why didn’t it feel like it?
The last time Gage had found Trent waiting for him outside on the tarmac at the bottom of the airplane stairs, the news his friend had delivered hadn’t been good. Judging by Trent’s drawn face and tight lips, what he had to say today wasn’t going to be any better.
Whatever the current catastrophe might be, Gage wasn’t sure he had the energy to deal with it. In the three and a half weeks since Lauren had left, he’d been running around the clock. He worked and slept, woke and showered on an airplane, then reported to the client’s office only to begin the entire process again on the flight to the next destination. He couldn’t go back to his empty house without picturing Lauren on the rug in front of his fireplace or in his bed.
Trent stood by silently as Gage descended the stairs and thanked today’s crew for a good flight. When Gage returned his attention to Trent, his friend held a slip of paper in his extended hand. Curious, Gage took it.
His bleary eyes scanned a certified check for two hundred thousand dollars made out to Trent Hightower, then he zeroed in on the signature of the payer. Lauren Lynch.
A burst of adrenaline kicked up his heart rate. A cold knot formed in Gage’s gut and a heavy weight landed on his shoulders. “What’s this?”
Trent’s exhaled breath clouded the frigid air between them. “Lauren sent the check with a note saying our mother would never cash it, but she trusted me to handle getting the funds back where they belonged. And she promised to make payments of a thousand a month on the remainder of the money our mother gave her father over the past seven years. It’s a substantial sum.”
Thoughts slammed around Gage’s head. His tired brain couldn’t begin to sort them out or even find a starting point to making reparation.
“You okay?” Trent asked when Gage said nothing.
He’d been wrong about Lauren. “I was afraid to trust her or the power of what she made me feel. I called her a liar and ordered her out of my house, believing she’d screwed me over the same way Angela had by lying and setting me up to bleed me dry. Instead, I’m the one who wronged her. How in the hell can I apologize for that?”
“Wait a minute. You and Lauren? You never said anything.”
“It was none of your business.” He raked a hand over his gritty eyes while guilt burned in his stomach like acid. “I treated her badly.”
Trent grunted. “You’re not the only one. I thought she was a money-sucking leech. I perceived her as a threat, and I did everything I could to run her off. Bottom-of-the-barrel jobs. Obnoxious clients. Our worst planes. Hell, any other employee would have sued me for harassment.
“Mom’s a hysterical mess because Lauren’s refusing to take her calls. She’s threatened to fly down to Daytona, but Lauren’s uncle warned her she wouldn’t be welcome and that he’d have her escorted off the property.”
Gage knew Lauren had to be hurting to take such drastic measures.
“I love her. Lauren. Not your mother.” The words burst out before he could stop them.
For the first time in Gage’s memory, Trent looked flabbergasted. “Shit. You should have said something.”
“I have to find a way to fix this. I can fix this. Fixing things is what I do. And I’m good at it.” Who in the hell was he trying to convince? He’d be lucky if Lauren didn’t throw him headfirst into a spinning propeller.
He deserved it.
Trent clapped a hand on Gage’s shoulder. “My jet is the fastest one we own. It’s yours whenever you want it.”
“How about now?”
Trent startled and glanced at his watch. “It’ll take me a couple of hours to find a pilot.”
“What about Phil?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the man who’d just flown him back from Seattle.
“He’s maxed out on his hours in the air for the week.”
“You fly me.”
Trent shrank back. “I haven’t taken the controls in twelve years. I’m not risking both our necks.”
“C’mon Trent, Lauren says that plane practically flies itself.”
“Flying’s not like driving a car, Gage. You can’t just climb back into the cockpit. All the computerized components are different. Lauren just lost her father to a plane crash. I’m not costing her you, too. Besides, my plane’s too damned pretty to break.”
The last was clearly a forced attempt at humor. Gage swallowed his objections. “Find me a pilot. Get me to Daytona.”
“You’ve got it. Now go home and clean up. You look like a mangy dog. She won’t let you in the house if you show up like that.”
Eleven
Lauren’s senses went on alert when an unexpected aircraft turned from Daytona International’s taxi runway onto the ramp in front of Falcon’s hangars.Her stomach did a loop-de-loop and her pulse stuttered when she identified the make and model as a Sino Swearingen SJ30–2. Her half brother’s plane.
No. Couldn’t be.
Her gaze shot to the tail number, hoping she was wrong. Her mood nosedived at the familiar sequence she’d relayed into the radio when she’d flown the jet. Her anger stirred.
Trent Hightower had invaded Falcon territory.
What did he want? She knew he’d received the check four days ago because she’d sent it by registered mail and he’d signed for it.
The jet came to a stop. She didn’t want to talk to him. On second thought, she wouldn’t mind if he’d flown to Daytona to apologize and grovel. Especially grovel. The jerk.
Or maybe it was her mother. She didn’t want to talk to her, either. They had nothing left to say.
“Sweet ride,” her student said. “One of Falcon’s?”
She forced her brain back into instructor mode. “No. Check the call sign. All of our N-Numbers end in FA for Falcon Air. That one’s HA, registered to Hightower Aviation. Let’s finish your postflight inspection. Where are you on your checklist?”
Her student returned to his task, but he was as distracted by the flashy jet as Lauren. Her ears picked up every sound from behind her, but she kept her eyes focused on her beloved Cirrus. She heard the trespassing aircraft’s parking break engage and involuntarily cataloged each step of proper shutdown procedure thereafter.
When the jet’s door opened her spine went rigid, but she didn’t turn around. If Trent wanted to talk to her, he’d have to cool his jets—the way he’d made her wait outside his office so many times.
When she couldn’t stall any longer she signed off on her student’s logbook. “That’s it for today. You did well. Study for your solo flight next week, and don’t forget to wear a shirt I can cut off you. I don’t want your mom screaming at me for ruining your best dress shirt.”