Page 64 of The Best Wild Idea
“What’s it like to work with him?” I ask Andy, nodding toward Silas. The crack of Silas’ pool stick breaks another set apart. Balls fly toward every pocket.
“You want my honest opinion?” Andy asks, tipping his chin down before taking a swig of his tangerine-colored whiskey sour.
I nod and he watches them for a moment. I think he might be making sure they’re out of earshot.
“That man can be a tough nut to crack. Wants everything a certain way, his plane stocked with certain things, his bedroom on every flight done up just right. And he’ll definitely let us know when it’s not.”
I nod, feeling a bit deflated, wondering if I should have asked. Especially as I was just starting to see him as the guy he was before.
“But when business travelers are on the road as much as Silas is, it’s understandable that they’d want each detail of their home away from home to be as predictable as possible. Those planes are his home when he’s on the road, and the crew is almost like his family. We’re what he comes back to time and time again. More than anywhere or anyone else in the world.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way.
“I can understand that,” I admit. “It sounds kind of lonely.”
“Lonely, yes. But not in the way you might imagine. At first, he operated exactly like his father had — bringing women back to the plane with him from all over the world, flying them home the next day while he slept off some rancid hangover in another exotic hotel or vacation villa off a tropical coast.”
I cringe, definitely wishing I hadn’t asked. Just hearing that stirs up something I hate. Like I’m peeking through a window into Silas’ sordid past — the one I never want to look at again.
“But I haven’t seen that side of him in a very long time,” Andy says slowly, seriously, making sure to catch my eye when he does. And he must notice the look on my face because hequickly adds, “Silas was dealt a terrible hand when his father died, having to step up and take on well over a hundred thousand employees overnight when he was still a kid himself. We all had to parent him a bit to get him through it. Myself included. I think that’s why he’s so meticulous now. He doesn’t like to make mistakes. Doesn’t like to let any of us down. He’s experienced enough mistakes and disappointment to last him a lifetime.”
“That’s the Silas I remember. The one who didn’t want to let anyone down and was there for the people he loved,” I tell him, watching the pool balls fly across the table when Carl begins another round. “The change in him after his father died is what tore us apart. I don’t know if what I’m seeing now is a permanent change, or just an act he’s putting on while he has my undivided attention here. This whole trip was a promise he made to Grant. I know he wouldn’t want to let him down.”
Andy pats my hand with a smile.
“Trust the change. Mr. Davenport may be a lot of things — the best types of people often are. But he’s now one of the best men I’ve ever known. Sure, he’s wildly particular, a workaholic, and can have a tongue on him that most people would be nervous to go up against. And rightly so. He’s as quick-witted as the day is long. But he’s also incredibly kind, impossibly generous, and honest to a fault. That man is incapable of lying. Not to mention a real hoot to hang out with. Truthfully, I never want to work for anyone else. He might not be exactly who he was when he was younger, but, honey, who is?”
He’s not wrong. I’m certainly different than I was back then, too.
Silas slaps Carl on the back after Carl hits a few balls in. He dips into a mock bow.
“You really think he’s changed?”
“A diamond doesn’t become a diamond without a little pressure, hon. He’s gotten a few more years of maturing under his belt since you’ve seen him. Men need a few more years to mature than women sometimes.” He winks. “At some point, Silas knew he couldn’t keep going the way he was while maintaining the business his father had built. And deep down, that boy doesn’t want to disappoint anyone. Especially you.”
“Me?” I ask, confused.
“Yes, you. His old girlfriend was sweet and all, but I knew it wouldn’t last.” He shakes his head with a sour look.
“You mean Raven?” I ask. “Silas told me she broke up with him because he kept saying my name in his sleep.”
Andy smiles like he knows exactly what I’m talking about and I wonder if he ever heard Silas talking while asleep on the plane.
“Raven just wasn’t right for him,” he says, not confirming or denying it. “She just didn’t have thatthingSilas needs.”
I frown, imagining what Raven must have been like for Silas to have a real relationship with her.
“And what’s that thing Silas needs?” I ask, shifting in my seat. What does a man like Silas Davenport really need to be happy?
“You.” He says it so fast, I think for a moment that I might have imagined it.
“What?” I ask, laughing. “A friend?”
Andy stirs his drink with a straw.
“You’ve always been what Silas needed. Lord, if you only knew. You’re the itch that just couldn’t be scratched. Believe me, because he’s tried to scratch it without you over the years.”
I blink at Andy, wondering how Silas’ flight attendant could have such a strong view of us, ofme, already.
