Turbulent Intentions (7 page)

“To do my job and collect a paycheck, sir.”

“Well, your job is to ensure that customers receive satisfaction. If we piss off the pilots, then we lose their business. Then we lose
all
the airline employees’ business and we get shut down.” His voice rose the longer he spoke.

“I’m sorry I snapped at Captain Armstrong. But he was being rude as well,” she pointed out.

“The customer is
always
right,” he thundered. “Deal with that.”

“I apologize. I won’t be rude again,” she said, feeling tears behind her eyes.

She hated that she sometimes cried when she was angry. She wanted to show she was furious, not a weakling, dang it!

“Look, Stormy, Captain Cooper Armstrong visits us many times during the week. You need to be more observant, take the time to actually notice the crew members who stop in frequently, and be extra courteous to them. I know this is a new shift for you, but just look at their name tags so you’ll remember them more easily, and be sure to give them that employee discount!

“Follow my lead. I go out of my way to take note of every employee I see. Don’t let these thick glasses confuse you into thinking I’m a blind man!” Just as he was finishing what he was saying, he nearly tripped over his own desk.

Stormy reluctantly nodded her head in agreement with her boss—why make things worse? “Is that all, sir?” Using the word
sir
to address this guy tasted sour on her tongue.

“Yes. Now go man the register. The line is growing and Amy can’t do it by herself.”

Stormy turned to walk out of the office. “Stormy, remember . . .” Stormy stopped, but barely kept herself from groaning, since she knew what he was going to say. “. . . Republic Coffee is happiness in a cup.”

Completely disgusted with this company droid, Stormy left the office to return to work, though she did it with a sinking feeling in her heart.

Upon her return to the floor of the coffee shop, she found herself in a daze as she wiped the tables and straightened up the boxes of tea and refilled condiments. So Captain Armstrong’s first name was Cooper? She now knew the full name of the man she’d slept with six years ago. So much for him being Green Eyes. She was too frazzled to even think about it right now.

Amy was working behind the counter preparing a passenger’s coffee. Amy finished ringing up the passenger, then looked over at Stormy with a defeated look on her face.

“Why did you let that man get to you?” asked Amy when they were alone.

“I’m actually not sure,” Stormy answered while playing back the conversation. It wasn’t any worse than any other she had on a daily basis. “I guess it’s because I’m sick and tired of these pilots thinking they have a right to get into my pants,” Stormy said with a wink, attempting to make light of the confrontation.

“Ha! Surprise, surprise, Captain Gorgeous is another full-of-himself womanizer. A Greek god of a man who sounds like a sexist, self-absorbed moron when he speaks, ruining all of that other stuff . . . you know, the hot part. If we could just silence him and tie him to a chair, we’d get a lot more female customers, and then not have to deal with all the guys who come in here expecting a cup of coffee and a quickie on one of the tables.” Amy spoke as she began steaming milk for the customer whose order Stormy had just rung up on the register.

“It’s not just what Armstrong was spouting. I’m used to all that,” she stated as she got back to the conversation. “It’s just that I’ve met him before.”

“I hear a story coming,” Amy said with glee.

“No, no story. I was just surprised to see him, that’s all. It’s been a lot of years since the last time.”

“I want to know what’s going on, but I’ve learned in our short time together how close-lipped you can be. I’ll wait it out,” Amy said.

“Good,” Stormy said. “This week has all around sucked. I have to move on top of everything else.”

“Don’t you like your apartment?”

“It’s not that. It has new management and they are remodeling. I’ve known that I’d have to vacate for a while, but time just crept up on me and now I have no time and nowhere to go.” Stormy’s brown eyes began to well up with tears. Again. She had to get a hold of herself.

“Oh my . . .” Amy gasped, now staring at her with sympathy. “Is there any way they can give you more time?”

“Nope,” she said as she carried a basket of dirty dishes into the kitchen. “I’ve just come to realize that it is what it is.”

Amy shook her head. Thankfully, they were busy the rest of the afternoon, so Stormy didn’t have much time to stress out over her living situation or her crappy job.

That also meant that Amy didn’t get a chance to ask any more questions. The reality was that Stormy had zero clue what she was going to do next, so how could she give any answers?

CHAPTER NINE

Stormy’s bus pulled up near her apartment building after her seemingly never-ending day. She dragged herself from it, then walked to her place and made her way into the lobby.

By the end of any day, her feet were trashed from standing for so many hours straight, so she normally took the elevator, but it was inevitable that fate continued working against her on a day as horrible as this. A large sign was taped to the metal doors: Out of Order.

Stormy trudged up the stairs with her giant purse in tow. As she was about to reach her floor, she began digging for her keys. Good coordination skills weren’t one of Stormy’s strong points—add a tired mind, and in true fashion, the strap slipped from her shoulder. Half the contents of her purse spilled out.

The sound of keys, makeup, and coins could be heard all the way to the bottom of the stairwell. Stormy dropped to her knees and began to sob. She’d had enough, and there was nothing that was going to hold it back.

When she heard a door open, and then someone moving down the stairs toward her, she tried pulling herself together, but she was just too tired. She looked down, hoping whoever it was just passed on by. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about why she was sobbing in the middle of a stairwell.

“What’s the matter, darling?” Sherman asked, compassionately stopping next to her.

The sound of his warm voice made her lean back against the wall as she looked at him, trying desperately to still the tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“It can’t be all that bad,” he assured her as he patted her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a hiccup.

“Don’t apologize, just tell me what’s got you so upset,” he said with the gentle smile she loved him for.

She’d been blessed to meet this man at one of the worst times in her life—a couple months after she’d lost her father. Sherman had been kind, and reminded her so much of her dad that she’d immediately latched on to him. Over the years, if too much time passed without seeing him, she had to go and seek him out. Then when she had lost her mother, Sherman had been the one to hold her.

“You’re here late tonight,” she finally said as she began to control her tears.

He was picking up items near where she sat and putting them back in her purse, which made her want to break out into sobs again, but she somehow managed to hold them back.

“I ended up visiting too long with Ms. Penny Little. Then the dang elevators broke again, so I had to talk myself into coming down all these stairs,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry. I’ll help you down them,” she told him, glad to focus on him and not herself.

He gazed at her fondly for a moment. “This is why I appreciate you so much, young lady. Even though you’re obviously having a bad day, you’re still willing to help an old man out,” he told her before shaking his head. “I know how badly your feet hurt at the end of a day, so I won’t be responsible for you walking any extra steps.”

Her heart warmed at his words. She wanted to be seen as a good person, as good as her parents had been, and she felt as if she were failing them every single day. She wasn’t nearly as giving, as caring, as sacrificing as they’d been, so for a man she admired to tell her she was better than okay made her want to jump across the short distance between them and grab hold of him in a bear hug. She barely managed to refrain from doing just that.

“I like you, Sherman. You make me smile when I feel like crying.”

“There shouldn’t be anything in life that makes us sit and cry all alone,” he told her while patting her shoulder. “Instead of giving up and plopping down in this dingy stairwell, tell me what’s wrong and I’m sure we can find a solution.”

Stormy struggled with whether or not to share her woes with him. It really was her own fault for allowing things to get so out of control. But as he sat there with an encouraging smile on his lips, she decided she really did need a friend to complain to. When she was done, maybe she wouldn’t feel like the world was coming to an end.

“I’m losing my apartment, my boss thinks I’m a horrible employee, and everyone I meet seems to hate me—especially disgustingly attractive pilots who could at least have the courtesy to remember my face.”

Sherman sat there quietly for a moment, and Stormy wondered if maybe she’d offered up too much information. Most likely she had, but then again, it wasn’t as if he was going to go around blasting her secrets to the world.

“In life there are always trials. We don’t necessarily understand why they happen, but eventually we see there’s a reason for them. Sometimes everything has to go wrong before it can turn around and start going right,” he said before pausing and looking at the contents of her purse still trailing down the stairs. Then he turned back to her and continued speaking.

“It will work out for the best sooner than you think. As clichéd as that might sound, it’s true, and all you have to do is pick yourself up. I’ll even loan you my cane if you’d like,” Sherman said in his most gentle voice.

“You can never find that cane,” she replied.

“Because then I’d have to admit I’m getting old.”

She smiled. She also realized that he was right. She would get nowhere sitting on the stairs crying. She needed to gather her fallen items, go to her apartment, and start making plans. Her mother had always told her a person chose to feel sorry for him- or herself, and no matter how bad a day she might be having, she could guarantee someone, somewhere else was having a worse day.

“There’s always tomorrow,” she finally said. “I’m going to miss you, Sherman. You’ve always been so good to me.”

“I really wouldn’t worry about tomorrow yet, darling. Things are going to pan out for you—just you wait. But for now, you need to go on inside, have a nice cup of hot tea, and get some needed rest.”

“I’m not doing that until I walk you down,” she insisted.

“I already told you—” he began but she cut him off.

“I have a purse full of contents to collect anyway, some of which are probably at the bottom of these stairs,” she said with a genuine smile.

He gave up the argument and took her arm as they stood and began descending. The amazing thing was that her feet stopped hurting as the two of them trekked back down several stories and toward the front door.

“You will not walk with me outside,” Sherman insisted. “Never once in my days alive have I allowed a lady to go back to her home unescorted.”

Stormy laughed for the first time that day and then leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Okay, I’ll concede to at least that.”

Sherman gave her a strong good-night hug and then disappeared through the door. Stormy made her way slowly back up the stairs, walked into her apartment, and closed the door, latching the chain behind her.

She decided to take Sherman’s advice and let this horrible day go. Tomorrow had to be better. There was no possible way it could get worse.

Sherman walked inside his house and picked up the phone. Impatiently he stomped his foot as he waited for the call to be answered.

“Hey, Uncle.”

“That’s not a proper greeting, boy,” Sherman told the young man.

“Sorry,” Cooper replied, his chuckle clearly coming through the line. “Hello, Cooper Armstrong speaking. How might I help you?” His tone was almost serious.

“I’m too old to play around,” Sherman scolded before changing his tone. “Now, the reason for the call . . . I need a favor . . .”

CHAPTER TEN

The commute to work was making her late again. Of course her bus would get stopped behind a traffic accident. And she couldn’t afford another bank-account-draining cab ride.

But she wasn’t nearly as stressed as the day before. Today, she was feeling a whole lot different about her predicament. After talking with Sherman, she was feeling more optimistic about life in general, and she was determined to face the unknown fate that awaited her—be it good or bad.

Finally, the bus arrived at Sea-Tac and Stormy rushed through security and up to her job, out of breath as she looked around for her boss. His beady eyes were thankfully focused on something in his miniscule office.

“Good morning,” Amy said, with far too much joy for any human who wasn’t a morning person. “How ya feeling today?”

“Better,” Stormy answered while cracking a smile as she clocked in.

The airport was alive with activity, like a frantic ants’ nest. People were coming and going from all over the world as they strolled through the terminals. Stormy thought that learning about people and their adventures to and from exotic destinations made working at an airport coffee shop much more interesting. See, she could look at things either positively or negatively. At least by looking at her recent life in a positive light, she was in a much better mood.

As she was making a fresh pot of house coffee, she was interrupted by the small bell on the counter.

“Good morning,” Stormy said without turning.

Since she was so accustomed to the sound of the bell, there was no hesitation in her response. When she finally spun, expecting to see another typical passenger, she stopped in her tracks at the reflection of Captain Armstrong in the polished brass of the espresso machine.

Green Eyes
.

Her nerve endings instantly began firing all at once as she felt the impeding confrontation. Without thinking, she darted in the direction of the back stockroom. Gosh dang it. All of that pep talk and at the first sight of Captain Armstrong, she’d panicked.

Chicken! She continued to scold herself even as he yelled after her.

“Does this mean you’re not going to serve me today?” Cooper called out. She didn’t notice him leaning over the counter to get a glimpse of where she’d disappeared to.

“I’ll be r-right there,” Stormy stuttered as she rounded the corner farther away from him.

What am I doing and why can’t I just face this man? He’s an ass, but he’s no different than many other men. I can face him without panicking,
she thought to herself as she wiped the sweat from her palms onto her apron.

Stormy brushed her brown hair behind her ears as she composed herself. Quickly taking several deep breaths, she squared her shoulders and prepared to come back out.

“Come on, I have a plane to catch,” Captain Armstrong called while ringing the bell.

With one last deep breath, Stormy turned around and came back to the counter. She spoke as if nothing were wrong. “What can I get you today?” she said, while taking notice that Henry was out of his office chair and walking from his door to watch the transaction.

“I’d like my usual, please, and try not to force yourself to smile too much,” Cooper said in a quiet tone with just the tiniest hint of tenderness. As he subtly smiled from the corner of his mouth, the slight impression of a dimple formed in his left cheek.

While wondering if he was actually concerned about her, Stormy almost felt like sharing with the guy. Damn, it had to be the eyes, she guessed. They seemed to tell her to trust him. Though, from personal experience, she knew that wasn’t the case.

“I haven’t exactly been in the most smiling kind of moods,” she said with a false laugh. “Because of our little interaction a couple days ago, I might just lose my job.”

He stood there, his smile slowly dropping. For just the briefest of moments, she was shocked to see that he might actually feel the tiniest bit bad. She wasn’t sure how that made her feel. It was too much and it messed with her opinion of him.

She didn’t like it.

“I don’t know what to say. I . . . I’m sorry,” he said, looking at a loss.

“Don’t try to be sympathetic, Captain Armstrong. It’s not your style,” she said. Then she squared her shoulders again and got back to business. “I’m sorry, you said you wanted your usual? Was that with four shots?”

“Yes, doll. Glad you remembered.”

She gritted her teeth, but she kept on making the drink and then handed it to him.

“Look, Stormy . . .” he began when an announcement came over the intercom.

“Captain Armstrong, please report to Gate A6. Captain Armstrong, A6.”

He sighed as he looked at her. He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, and then he closed it again before giving her a look she couldn’t quite interpret.

“I have to run,” he finally said. He grabbed his coffee and took off as if the plane would start itself and leave without him if he didn’t get there immediately.

Stormy was left hanging at the coffee counter without the slightest clue of what Captain Armstrong had been about to say. As she shook the confusion away, Stormy’s eyes caught Amy’s, and it became apparent that Amy had been observing the awkward transaction between the two of them while stealthily peering from the back room.

Stormy just shrugged her shoulders as if to say,
What can I do
?

At least he hadn’t been nearly as rude as he’d been during their last interaction. However, it was becoming increasingly insulting that he still had no clue who she was.