First Flyght – Chapter 15

Eating myself into a stupor, falling asleep fully clothed, and waking up to find myself a complete mess about fifteen minutes before my shuttle is due to depart is probably not my best idea ever, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.

Thank goodness we spent money on my hair, nails, and body improvements because that makes it easy to comb my straightened locks, sweep my bangs to the side, dress in my second favorite suit and brush my teeth before running for the shuttle. Then I apply minimal makeup next to a man who sleeps the whole ride down.

I breeze into the Flyght building with a coffee cup in hand, totally not ready for a meeting I had hoped would never come. The security guard analyzing my credentials eyes my shaking hands.

“I’m nervous for my meeting,” I explain with a shaky smile. He nods, sympathy in his returning smile, as he waves me through to the bank of elevators. When I arrive at Ken’s office at eight-forty, the admin nowhere in sight, I breathe a small sigh of relief, but it doesn’t stop my hands from dancing like it’s Saturday at the local club.

Pull yourself together, Vivian.

I believe it’s better to sit and wait than to stalk the room, so I perch my butt on the edge of a couch in the waiting area outside of Ken’s office. I doubt this is where he spends most of his days. He probably sits in meetings all day long or travels to other places to meet with people. I wonder if he loves his job. How did he come up with the idea for Flyght, anyway? When we were together, he never had this kind of ambition, and from what I know, it was only a year later that he started this business from almost nothing. Now, look at it.

After about five minutes of silence with only the faintest steps of people walking by the office door, I begin to regret my decision. It was dumb of me to come here. Sure, Ken and I dated for three years, and I was in love with him, and he was in love with me, but that was three years ago. He’s had women since me. I doubt he even remembers who I am.

Screw this. I can’t sit here any longer.

I need to go. This is a huge mistake.

“I’m not sure what happened, but it looks like your nine o’clock got moved to nine-thirty, and now you have…”

I panic as the voice of a man approaches Ken’s outer office area from the hallway. Oh no, I hear a pair of steps! My heart races as I consider, however briefly, hiding behind a large potted plant in the corner.

I’m on my feet, my eyes darting around wildly, when Ken steps into the room with his admin right behind him.

“You have an, uh, a Vivian Kawabata —”

“Vivian?”

Hearing my name on his lips, I jump in surprise and spill my cup of coffee all over my fancy new pants Marcelo picked out for me.

“Shit,” I cry out as the hot coffee soaks through and burns my leg. I crouch over and turn to the side to hide my embarrassment.

Dear Lord, I’ve blown it again. My first meeting with Ken in three years and I fuck it up right from the get-go.

I sheepishly raise my head, as I grasp my pant leg and pump it up and down to cool off the coffee, and find both Ken and his admin are staring at me.

“Vivian?” This time Ken’s voice is less confused.

His admin steps forward. “Can I get you a towel or something?”

I straighten up, both mortified for myself and upset I just wasted good coffee and destroyed a beautiful pair of pants. “That… That would be nice, thanks.”

The admin nods as he leaves the outer office to find some way to clean me up.

All of my daydreams about this meeting — how Ken would see me and be stunned at how great I look (really the spa did wonders on even a dull person like me), how I would smile and charm him again? They all die a quiet death in my head.

“Vivian, what are you doing here?” Thankfully, Ken has a dumbfounded grin on his face. His lips curl between two cheeks fuzzy with stubble, and his hair is playful and wild.

“I’m, uh… apparently making a giant fool of myself.” I close my eyes for one heartbeat and reopen them a micrometer calmer. “Hi, Ken. Sorry to uh… well, just sorry.”

Fuck. This is not going well. When I’m flustered, I can’t talk. My tongue gets caught in a war between my head and my heart and my ego. Today, my ego is a tiny piece of dust, and both my head and heart want to bolt for the door.

We’re both speechless until Ken’s admin returns with a white towel. “Sorry about that. We seemed to have startled you,” he says, breaking the silence.

I take the towel from him and smack at my light pink pants and the dark stain on my upper right thigh.

“It’s okay. I’m sure these pants will bounce back.” I’m sure they’re completely ruined, and it’s possible I have a second-degree burn underneath, but whatever.

“I don’t want you to waste your meeting time with Mr. Mata,” he says, glancing at the clock, “so can I get you a fresh cup of coffee or anything else?”

“Ah, no,” I say, handing over the almost empty cup. “You should definitely not give me anything else I can spill on myself and please take this. I never want to see it again.”

He takes away the cup, and I smooth my hair back into place. Trying to ignore the stain down my pants, I jerk a quick smile at Ken.

“So, I hope you have a moment to speak. I think I got a fifteen-minute meeting on your calendar.”

Ken blinks out of his staring state. “Oh, we really have a meeting?” He continues to stare, so I wave a hand in between us. The gesture transports me back to when we lived together, and I would catch him staring into space, standing in the kitchen or the bathroom. Perhaps he was coming up with brilliant ideas back then.

He blinks again, and his face deepens into a frown.

That gesture was too familiar.

“Come on in,” he says, motioning me to his office.

Inside, he circles his desk, not even looking out his picture windows. This view must be de rigueur to him, everyday and plain. When I broke up with Ken, it was because my family felt he wasn’t good enough for me. Look at him now.

He leaves his messenger bag on the table behind his desk and waves his hand to bring up all his usual monitors and projections.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?” Ken sits in his chair and leans back, unbuttoning his suit jacket and adjusting his cuffs.

I sit swiftly, hoping the evidence of my klutziness fades into the background if he can’t see my lap. “I’m sorry to have sprung this meeting on you. I feel sure you never expected to see me again,” I say with a light laugh.

“Maybe so.” His voice is even, and he doesn’t smile back.

How personal do I get with this meeting? Again, in my daydreams, I imagined us smiling and flirting with each other. Perhaps I was a little too generous with my dreams. I should’ve imagined him angry with me like he was when I broke up with him.

“That being said, I’m here to ask a favor.”

When his frown deepens, I know this is going so badly there’s no way it can be worse. I might as well just shamelessly beg at this point.

“Situations have changed in my family, and I’m currently the captain of a ship, the Amagi —”

“Wait,” he says, interrupting and holding up his hands. “You? A captain of a ship? Like, a spaceship?” He points up.

“Uh, yes. It’s currently in space dock.”

“What happened to your precious and prosperous family farm? That huge estate and fortune you were due to inherit?”

I close my eyes against the bitterness of his voice and the way my parents’ words sound on his lips. They’re haughty and snobbish, the worst kind of elitism.

I deflect. “Plans have changed. And so you may or may not know, probably don’t know now that I think about it, that I was just here yesterday to apply for a Flyght permit.” I’m rambling. Not good.

Ken’s eyebrows climb even higher. They’ll be in space soon if he doesn’t watch it.

“I had a lovely interview with Beatriz Jurado, and I thought things were going well.”

He rubs his face roughly with his hands, one of his old habits he used to keep himself awake in class. His fingers flick over the space in front of him, accessing records I can’t see from my angle.

“You were denied,” he says, leaning in to look at the data better. “Animals on board?” His eyebrows draw together. “Oh right. The lawsuits.”

“Yes, that’s what Ms. Jurado told me.”

He dismisses his screens with a flick of his finger. “And so? You came here for what?”

I swallow, knowing I deserve this. He’s going to make me beg for the permit.

“I promised my staff I’d do what I could to get the permit. They asked if I had any connections, any way I could have this decision overturned. It was… a difficult choice to come here. I didn’t want to bother you —”

“Bother me?” He stands up, opens his mouth to talk, and clamps his lips shut. Turning his eyes to the view out the window, he pauses for a long moment. I’m afraid to move. “Vivian, it’s completely inappropriate for you to be here right now. How did you even get on my calendar?”

It’s better if I don’t answer that.

“Forget it,” he says, waving his hand. “The mere suggestion that our previous relationship will curry favor with me is ridiculous. There’s no way I can bend the rules for you. Did you really think the rules didn’t apply to you?”

My whole body heats by a few degrees. “I… No. I’ve never asked for special favors, you know that. I thought maybe…” I thought he may be able to get us to the head of the line when I returned without the animals. Ugh. Stupid, Vivian. He doesn’t want to help. I shake my head. “But, no, you’re right, of course.” I stand up, annoyed that I now look like a disheveled mess. “You’ve always been right.”

He pales at my words. This was the crux of our previous relationship. I always gave my parents the benefit of the doubt when they ordered me around, but when they took away my freedoms bit by bit, he would remind me that he was right about them. He didn’t trust my mother, and he warned me over and over, that she only wanted to control me. It was his last words to me. “Just remember that I was always right about this.” He had predicted she would step in and insist I break up with him.

He was right.

I was always wrong.

But it’s not like he ever took me and my dreams seriously. No one ever did. My parents never listened. Ken always thought I’d change my mind about the family farm. Skylar and Marcelo aren’t hearing me and my concerns. Even random interlopers like Heidi back on Ossun will talk and talk and talk, but then not listen when it’s my turn.

This is no different. I should’ve realized coming here wouldn’t change anything.

I bow and keep my head down. This is humiliating, but my honor depends on not being a righteous bitch and reminding him of all the times I supported him, clothed him, fed him, cheered him on, while he tried to find his passion… which turns out to be what will be my undoing. Flyght is his passion, and he wants me to have nothing to do with it. I’m not surprised.

“I’m sorry to have interrupted your busy schedule. Please accept my sincerest apologies. I will inform my crew of your decision.”

Keeping my head down, I grab my bag and leave without making eye contact.

He does not follow me out.