Page 60 of Exes and Big Os

“So, what do you want to do?”

Staring at the ceiling did no good, and Jerry Springer almost made things worse. He had to make a plan.

To get the girl back.

21

Callie

“Jonathan, we’ve got another flight to San Fran for the weekend in two weeks. You and Roscoe want to take it and have a little mini-vacay there?” Callie asked.

“Definitely.”

Meg yelled from the office. “The headhunter called. They’re sending a possible pilot over right now.” Meg needed to learn how to text or get off her ass and come to them instead of screaming. But that was Meg. “Oh, and that flight to Missoula, Montana, for Living You Inc. just confirmed!”

“Stop yelling!” Callie yelled back, and a mechanic hit his head on a wing with the distraction. He rubbed his head, and Callie cringed.

Callie climbed into the plane they’d taken to Mexico. She allowed the memories to flow over her, but she stopped them from cascading into regret. She’d promised Liam she wouldn’t regret him, and although she was hurt, she didn’t regret anything. She’d let her guard down with a man and learned a lesson.

Sitting in the cockpit, she stared at that red button covered with “DO NOT TOUCH”. She smirked. Jonathan was a great actor and really had Liam worried. The button was only a personal homage. Her father always had a “DO NOT TOUCH” button or switch in almost every vehicle he owned. He said it was reminder to have restraint and caution in everything he did. Callie realized that the stickers started after her mother’s death. She pulled the sticker off. Monterrey had shown her that restraint was overrated and throwing caution to the wind had been quite fun.

It’d been a month since Trent had showed in the hangar, and although Callie wanted things to be different, they just weren’t.

Hera Aviation’s specializations had been perfectly timed for two prominent businesses in Denver needing permanent contracts to fly to San Francisco and Seattle on a weekly basis.

They’d squeaked in a few other flights, but nothing like Mexico. Nothing would ever be like Mexico. Callie knew that. Hera Aviation hadn’t taken any last-minute flights since the first one, but it’d been a lucrative deal, so they’d considered making an exception in rare circumstances. And the Montana flight was a rare exception. Booked only forty-eight hours ago, they would make their weekly numbers with that flight alone. Meg had been swamped determining the flight’s extras for the last two weeks of flights and seemed to be so distracted that she’d given up on her P.I. like investigation of the new company, instead offering that they give Hera Aviation umbrellas to the two passengers due to the impending rain in Montana. Callie liked the idea and was willing to give Meg a break.

Callie’s phone buzzed in her pocket. The resume for a pilot popped up. The names were always blacked out so they couldn’t go direct to the person for hire. Those headhunters wanted their cut. She didn’t blame them. The great pilots were snatched up quicker than the latest and greatest Christmas toy.

Angel Flight? Interesting. Flight Instructor at 18? Wow. Tour pilot? Risk taker? Updated medical certificate. Healthy as a horse.

Everything she’d asked for and more was there. She’d asked for a candidate able to do a “on reserve” status for last-minute trips and short flights. This candidate was okay with that if his girlfriend could come along. That wasn’t a deal breaker if there were open seats and the client agreed. The girlfriend might have to become an employee to meet liability criteria, but there were workarounds for almost everything.

Except for love. Either it worked, or it didn’t.

She stepped out of the plane and stared off to the northwest, and the snow-capped peaks waved hello to her.

“Oh, hell, no!” Meg’s voice echoed from the office.

Jonathan walked from behind the plane. “Is she louder today than normal, or am I imagining it?”

Voices muffled from the office.

Meg’s voice boomed through the hangar. “Callie! Get in here.”

Jonathan was right; she was at the top of her volume.

Jonathan’s eyebrows rose, and he backed away. “I’ll finish getting the Seventy ready for the flight.”

When Callie pushed through the glass door, Meg sat with her arms crossed. “No. Just no.”

It was a flashback to when Callie had told Meg “no” about the flight to Mexico.

“What’s going on?”

“Hi, Callie.” The voice was familiar, but not the one that made her heart crash against the walls of her chest. It only hopscotched inside of her.

Though he looked like the man who’d done a number to her heart.

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