Page 84 of Come Fly with Me

Whoever’s talking laughs as he says, “She lost her shit with her supervisor, walked out without even signing her evaluation form. Said she was done.”

“What, so she quit?” someone else asks, and I feel myself holding my breath. Surely Carrie would’ve known if she’d quit.

“No, she hasn’t quit. She’s all talk when it comes to this,” the storyteller responds.

“So what was it?” the other guy asks. “A bad evaluation?”

“Nope, she got a great one, as always,” he says, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “Then again, it’s not hard when you sleep your way to the top, is it?”

There’s a collective laugh amongst the group and I have to physically force myself not to turn around and punch every single one of them in the face.

“So?” someone prompts.

“So, she’s not getting the eighteen percent contribution,” the jackarse telling the story continues. “Not enough money in the pot for her.”

“But we are, right?” someone else asks.

The storyteller laughs. “Of course we are,” he says. “We’ve worked hard, and we deserve it, don’t we?”

The rest of them all laugh, mutters of yeah, we sure do as they change topics and talk about something else.

Inside, my blood is boiling, an anger bubbling below the surface of my skin as I take in their words and the full implication of what these arseholes are saying.

Taylor, despite being a Captain, just like they are. Despite getting a good evaluation and having an excellent record and work ethic, doesn’t get the salary bonus these guys do. Why? Because she’s a female? Because everyone thinks she’s slept her way to the top and doesn’t deserve to be there? Doesn’t deserve the recognition and reward that these fuckheads get?

I roughly shuffle the paperwork together before standing, my heart pounding in my chest at what I’ve just discovered. Turning, I cast a glance over the group of pilots who were talking about Taylor and me, instinctively know who the arsehole was that started this conversation.

Because when my eyes meet Trent’s, he gives me a smirk, instantly recognizing me. He probably knows it was me sitting here all along as he started that conversation, the fucking prick.

I want to walk over and punch him in his smug fucking face. But I know that isn’t going to help Taylor, will probably only make things worse. So, taking a deep breath, I turn away and walk out of the lounge, my brain turning over this new piece of information and how best to deal with it.

Just as I reach the plane, an idea starts to form. An idea that I know is a huge gamble, but one that might just help Taylor get the respect and equity she deserves.

And maybe, just prove to her how much she means to me as well.

Twenty-Nine

Taylor

I land in New York after a delay in my flight from Anchorage to Seattle, and after flying for the last ten hours, I’m ready for a break. It’s been a while since I’ve flown a couple of segments in one day, but it’s good to keep myself busy. It’s also been a long time since I’ve toured New York City. I don’t have a ton of time before my flight to Boston, but it’s enough to take in a few sights and clear my head, remind myself what it’s like to be alone. Obsessing over what happened in the past won’t make it disappear but focusing on what’s to come will lessen its effects.

I was never meant to be a vehicle to a man’s success, and maybe in the end, that’s all Jake wanted out of this. Maybe he was using me, knowing I built my career on my own from the ground up. The one thing that’s coming out of this is the fire that’s been lit underneath me.

Running on my broken heart and my interesting conversation during my evaluation signing, I’m on a mission to change things for female pilots and I don’t just mean inspiring more women to join the industry.

My confidence has never wavered in what I do and what I know needs to be done, and as I’m moving through the airport after turning in the post-flight checklist, I hear someone call my name.

“Taylor?” the voice calls out, and there’s a question attached to the end as if this person is questioning whether I’m a person they know.

I turn around and see Dean Clynes jogging toward me, his small suitcase riding alongside him as he hurries to catch up to me.

Sounding a little winded, he says, “I thought that was you.”

“Hey, Dean,” I say, greeting him with a hug. “We’ve gotta stop meeting this way.” I motion around the airport and give him a smile. Dean and I spent so much time together as reserve pilots back in the day, but things have slowly faded away. And now by chance, we run into each other in the Crescent Airways lounge or in random airports around the world.

“Well, I’m flying with you tomorrow. I’m your first officer.”

“Seriously?” I hadn’t even looked at who I would be flying with, I just knew it wasn’t Jake, and that was enough for me.

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