Come Fly With Me (20 page)

"We're
just
waiting
for
one
more
passenger,
Sir."

"I
didn't
authorize
any
other..."
Bradley
paused
mid-sentence
as
Allison
strode
onto
the
plane.

Her
briefcase
was
in
her
left
hand
and
her
phone
in
her
right
one,
"I
look
forward
to
seeing
you
too,
ta,
ta."
Her
voice
was
buttery-smooth
as
she
hung
up,
but
her
icy-blue
eyes
snapped
as
she
turned
her
attention
toward
Bradley.
She
sat
down
facing
her
cousin
and
buckled
her
seatbelt
with
a
sharp
click.
Bradley
cringed
as
if
he
had
been
slapped.
Allison
depressed
the
intercom
button,
"We
can
take
off
now,
Scott."

"What
are
you
doing
here,
Allison—this
is
my
account."

"You
mean
this
is
your
mess."
She
eyed
his
all-American
good
looks
and
wondered
how
many
times
he
had
tried
to
get
by
on
them
alone.
His
response
was
to
skulk
like
a
teenager
that
had
just
been
caught
reading
Penthouse
under
the
covers
with
a
flashlight.

"For
the
foreseeable
future,
I
am
running
this
company,"
Allison
said.
"Don't
go
rogue
on
me.
You
have
to
clear
all
travel
decisions
with
me,
first."

"Like
you
care
what
happens
to
the
company,"
Bradley
finally
found
his
voice.

"I
care
a
great
deal,"
she
said.
She
took
a
calming
breath
to
prepare
herself
for
take-off
and
silently
cursed
Bradley
for
sitting
in
a
forward-facing
seat.
Flying
backwards
only
added
to
her
dizziness
and
nausea.
She
couldn't
move
now,
Bradley
would
pounce
on
any
sign
of
weakness
on
her
part.
He
still
played
by
schoolyard
rules.
When
his
football
career
hadn't
panned
out,
he
traded
in
his
dreams
for
the
victim
card.
He
was
woefully
out
of
his
league
as
junior
V.P.
of
marketing.
This
was
his
last
chance
to
prove
his
worth.
If
he
couldn't
turn
this
disaster
around
with
the
design
team,
he
would
be
out—family
or
not.

*****

The
next
morning
a
sliver
of
sun
shone
through
the
room-darkening
shade
in
Allison's
hotel
bedroom.
She
turned
over
to
read
the
digital
clock
and
jumped
a
mile.

"Shit!
How
the
hell
did
I
oversleep
the
wake-up
call?"
Dashing
madly
around
the
room,
she
rifled
through
her
bag
for
her
hose
and
shoes.
She
grabbed
her
make-up
bag
and
threw
them
into
her
satchel
along
with
her
iPad
that
had
her
notes
for
the
meeting.
On
the
way
down
in
the
elevator,
she
called
the
front
desk
to
secure
a
cab
for
her.

Her
cab
cut
through
traffic
at
an
impressive
rate,
and
she
reached
the
interior
design
offices
three
minutes
before
nine.
She
paused
for
a
minute
outside
the
door
to
compose
herself.
She
had
the
secretary
knock
on
the
conference
room
door
for
her
to
allow
her
access.
The
presentation
was
about
to
start,
and
she
quietly
joined
them.

"Gentlemen,
forgive
my
tardiness.
The
front
desk
misdirected
my
wake-up
call—good
staff
is
hard
to
find."
She
said
this
lightly,
but
slid
her
eyes
in
Bradley's
direction.
At
least
he
has
the
good
grace
to
look
guilty,
she
thought.

The
meeting
seemed
to
go
smoothly
as
the
design
team
presented
them
with
an
excellent
computer
mock-up
of
the
new
streamlined
interiors
as
well
as
a
sample
board
of
materials.
Their
price
point
was
still
higher
than
Allison
would
have
liked,
but
that
was
an
issue
that
had
some
built-in
flexibility.
Everyone
shook
hands
amicably
on
the
new
interior
specs
and
Allison
breathed
a
sigh
of
relief—crisis
averted
for
today.
She
took
the
elevator
down
with
Bradley.

"Don't
ever
pull
a
stunt
like
that
again,"
she
said
as
the
elevator
doors
closed.
"I'm
only
letting
you
keep
your
job
out
of
deference
to
your
father."

"You
can't
keep
blaming
your
shortcomings
on
me,
Allison,"
he
said.

She
laughed.
"Bradley,
I
went
to
the
best
prep
school
in
New
York.
I
was
the
queen
bee
there.
If
you
want
to
play
it
like
you're
still
in
school,
be
warned—I
will
crush
you."

"Well,
I
didn't
go
to
prep
school,
or
an
Ivy
League
college.
My
family
missed
out
on
the
benefits
that
you
and
Jeremy
enjoyed."