Page 12 of A Rebel's Shot

Only one way to find out.

“Well, they have a garden vegetable pizza. I bet that would be good with the garlic sauce instead of marinara. We could have shrimp on one side and veggies on the other.”

He really should just drop it and order what he wanted without caring about her, but for some reason, her response mattered.

She sat back, her head nodding slightly. “That actually sounds amazing.”

“Okay.” Relief washed over him, and he relaxed into the booth. “Pizza it is.”

Kim came back, and Merritt ordered the pizza and fried wontons and onion rings to go with it. She twisted her teacup back and forth, tugging on the paper and string. She was nervous.

Why would a socialite, CEO of a massive mining company be nervous interviewing a “Podunk” bush pilot?

“I can’t wait to watch your sister’s latest adventure.” Merritt’s statement was the last thing he thought she’d start with.

“Really? You watch the channel?”

“Guilty.” Her smile wasn’t as bright as the earlier one, but her eyes still danced. “They’re kind of my escape. I’d love to someday go on a trek like what she does. I mean, I’ve been to lots of places around the world, but it’s rarely fun.”

Her expression dimmed.

“Why?” Wouldn’t someone with her kind of money have nothing but fun?

“Well… I’ve spent the last nine years growing HGR’s philanthropic branch of the business, focusing on helping orphans and widows in not ideal situations.”

So not your run-of-the-mill spoiled brat. This day was getting more interesting by the second. Tiikâan’s mind spun with possibilities.

“What kind of situations?” He leaned forward, suddenly intensely interested in the woman across from him.

“We were one of the first relief crews in the Nepal earthquake.” She started toying with her tea again. “I’ve been to the Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya, Za’atari in Jordan, and others. We’ve been to Kutupalong in Bangladesh several times when the monsoons destroyed the makeshift orphanages.

“But the worst were definitely the al-Hol and Roj camps in Syria a few years ago when the violence there escalated. Those kids––” She swallowed, her voice thick. “That was scary.”

She shook her head and took a deep breath.

Then she forced a smile at him. “Anyway, now I get to be in Alaska with a whole new adventure. One I hope I can convince you to be a part of.”

She spent the next thirty minutes efficiently explaining to him about the new graphite mine about to begin production, how she’d need to be flown to and from the site most days until the excavation started and all the wrinkles were ironed out, and that, out of all the pilots she’d researched, he came highly recommended.

He had a hard time believing the last bit. There were a lot of amazing pilots in Alaska. But the hook his mindsnagged on the most was how different the cool, put together boss lady was to the woman whose voice trembled when she talked about orphans.

One he wouldn’t mind spending the summer with.

The other?

Not so much.

And, if he went by this meeting, he couldn’t tell which version of Merritt would show up.

SIX

Tiikâan glanced at Merritt in his copilot seat of his Maule M-7-235 as he prepared to taxi and inwardly sighed, knowing if he outwardly sighed, she’d feel it with her arm pressed against his.

Looked like he’d be stuck with the Ice Queen all summer. She’d hardly said a word to him since she arrived with her shoulders pinned back in her designer coat.

Who in their right might would wear a white Gucci jacket to a mine site?

Not anyone he knew. His world was Carhartt and bunny boots. Not jackets that probably cost more than his truck.

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