Pink Slips and Glass Slippers

by J. P. Hansen

  “Look, I know you wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.”

  “Try me.”

  Chase tugged at his collar, “Oh hell, alright, what I’m about to say is highly confidential. It stays in this cockpit, understood?”

  “Who would I possibly tell?”

  Chase smirked, then said, “Before I go any further, I have to get something off my chest.” Brooke raised one eyebrow and froze. Chase said, “I didn’t tell anyone about us. I don’t understand how my boss knew…”

  “Oh God, we’re back to that one again?” She continued, “First of all, I don’t even know your boss, never met the man. How could I possibly…You can’t possibly think I’d do that?”

  “What about Greenberg? Did you tell him?”

  “Let me say this clearly: I…Told…Nobody.” Brooke’s stomach twinged as Melissa popped in her head. She couldn’t contradict herself now. Melissa would never…

  Chase stared at Brooke and neither one flinched. Brooke marveled at his flying prowess, able to hold a stare down, yet keep the plane steady. Is there anything this man can’t do?

  Brooke broke the awkward silence, saying, “You’re going to have to trust me. I didn’t tell Henry or anyone at Pharmical. I’m here to help find Parker.” She braced herself for the qualifier.

  Chase inhaled deeply, then said, “Oh hell, alright. Here goes…I married Heather five years ago. She said she wanted children and would relinquish her modeling career when she became pregnant. Then, the day she got pregnant, it all unraveled. She couldn’t handle it. She hated being a mother and resented me. I had achieved my goal of CEO, and didn’t spend enough time…Then, postpartum depression hit. I saw the signs and got her to reluctantly see a team of medical doctors and psychiatrists. They loaded her up with anti-depressants and you-name-it pain killers. She became addicted. And crashed. She tried to kill herself…” Chase’s voice cracked.

  Brooke’s eyes blurred, “Oh, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me any more if this is hard. Just fly.”

  Chase wiped his eyes, “I tried to do what I could, I really did.”

  Brooke placed her hand on top of his, “I’m so sorry.”

  Deep breath, “I found her that day just in time. She swallowed enough pills to kill an elephant, the ER doctors told me…They found everything in her system—including Stabilitas. I panicked. Not only was she sick, but with my position at Pharmical, the press would kill my career and pressure the FDA to abolish a drug that’s already helped millions of people. I felt lost for the first time in my life...”

  “So, why still wear the ring?”

  “With our board of Bible toters, are you kidding me? I had to be the happily married, stable CEO—two and a half kids, picket fence, doting wife—but it tore me apart.”

  “How come it never hit the papers?”

  “I managed to call in some favors with some select friends. Believe it or not, Dixie-dawg’s not my only friend. They kept it out of the media. Then, quietly, I sent her to the top rehab program in the world in—”

  “Hazelden?”

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “Long story, plus you said Minnesota. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Keep going.”

  “I cut a check for over sixty grand; Heather gave it all of one week, and bolted. She abandoned me, her son, and the life she said she wanted. I hired a private eye out of New York and he found her in some crack house living with some creep named Rusty.”

  “How does she afford to live?”

  “She emptied a couple of my bank accounts and has plenty of cash. The house she lived in couldn’t have cost much. Supposedly, they’re wanted for drugs and a bunch of other things. I tried to serve her divorce papers at that Minneapolis house, but she and Rusty fled.”

  “What did your private eye say?”

  “I haven’t been able to reach him. I think he’s ticked off at me for trying to serve Heather without telling him, as if I wanted her to take off.”

  “I…I don’t know what to say…Now, I understand why you can’t go to the police.”

  “We have to find Parker and somehow stop her.”

  “What does Heather look like?”

  “I wish I had a picture of her—I removed them from my wallet a long time ago. The hotel managers all asked for her photo too. How would I describe Heather? It’s hard to be objective after all that’s happened,” Chase inhaled, then exhaled slowly, “Heather’s attractive. Blonde, blue eyes, well built, about 5’8”, 120 lbs.”

  After an awkward pause, Chase said, “Actually, you’re prettier.” Ordinarily, Brooke accepted flattery with an easy southern smile. Desperately needing a shower since playing mechanic, she couldn’t even fathom a compliment. She ignored, then asked, “Age?”

  “Twenty seven.”

  Hmmm, he sure likes ‘em young. I wonder if his nooner at the mall goes to high school. What was he doing with me? I’m like her mother’s age.

  Brooke glanced over her shoulder, “Do you have a bathroom?”

  “A small one. I’m afraid I barely fit, but you will.”

  Brooke smirked, unhooked, then with her head bowed, ambled along the narrow path that led to the back. The mirror was big enough to make her wince at her reflection. Gripping her purse, she dumped its contents into the salad-bowl-sized sink. Applying what makeup she had, with the plane’s erratic lunges, she felt like a plastic surgeon on a roller coaster. She finished, then glanced into the hazy mirror, and couldn’t help thinking, I’m prettier than her…I bet.!

  Returning to the cockpit, she noticed his stare as she wiggled back into her seat. He said, “Are you okay?”

  “Why, don’t I look okay?”

  “You look great—it’s just that you were in the bathroom for…You’re not airsick?”

  “Oh no, I just needed to freshen up. You’re an amazing pilot. How long have you had your license?”

  “About ten years. It started out as a hobby—you know, the thrill of the ride—but, the more I flew, the more I enjoyed it. Do you have any hobbies?”

  Thrill of the ride held her spellbound for a moment. “I love riding horses. I had one as a little girl. It’s funny you asked—I actually just rode one last week. It had been so long, but it brought back a ton of memories,” Brooke hummed while glancing to her right, then smiled, “I guess I enjoy the thrill of the ride too.”

  For the first time, they settled in as a warmth pulsed inside. Their grievances were replaced by compassion, a common purpose to find Parker. Chase slipped on his headphones, and started conversing in airplane lingo. Brooke hoped it was an air traffic control tower, but it sounded foreign—except for the low on fuel comment. Lightning flashed up ahead against the darkened sky and she quietly prayed for a safe landing.

  Chase struggled to lower the plane, and as rain pelted the windshield. Straight lines of lights appeared below. She wanted to ask if he could land, but decided to grip her seatbelt and try not to distract him. She eyed him and remembered those hands. With his lashes focused on landing, she hoped he didn’t catch her staring.

  Brooke’s first bird’s eye landing was both exhilarating and terrifying. Chase looked like a seasoned pro. As the tires skidded on the wet pavement, she held it together and said, “Well done, captain.”

  “Sorry, that wasn’t one of my best landings.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” Brooke inhaled his scent and grinned, “Now what?”

  “Let me pull into the terminal. I don’t like this storm.”

  Brooke scanned the area and didn’t see any jumbo jets, “Where are we?”

  “Welcome to Executive Airport Orlando. I’ve been here before, but it’s been a long time.”

  A man with orange flashlights guided Chase into what looked like an old arena. He slowed to a stop, then flipped a series of switches. Brooke thought, it’s not like shutting off a car. How does he know what to do?

  Chase said, “Sit tight, I’ll help you out,” then slid past her and popped open the hatch. Br
ooke felt a whoosh, then Chase extended his hand, and said, “Here, take my hand. I don’t want you to sprain your ankle.” She loved the way his eyes danced above his smirk. Gripping his strong hand, Brooke felt a tingle.

  Chase stepped backwards down the small ladder without losing his grip on Brooke’s hand. Standing on the concrete, the stench of oil and fuel lingered in the stale air, eradicating her nostrils of Chase’s aroma. He gripped her elbows with both hands and faced her, asking, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  She sensed a deeper meaning in his eyes, a vulnerability. Brooke lowered her voice, “Yes.”

  Chase looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead, guided Brooke away from the small craft and into a tiny gate area—with the ambiance of a bus terminal. Chase powered up his smart phone and said, “I hope she found us a car and hotel. You hungry?”

  Brooke eyed the two vending machines and hoped that’s not what he meant, saying, “A little.”

  Chase’s phone beeped. “Oh good. Keep your fingers crossed while I check voicemail.” Brooke heard a muffled woman’s voice through the cell pressed to his ear. He frowned throughout the message, then said, “Shit.”

  Brooke stood still, staring at him. Chase lowered his phone, and said, “Bad news. My travel agent couldn’t find us hotel rooms or even a rental car. The closest hotel is an hour from here, and without a rental car, that’s not even an option.”

  Chase said, “I have a pull-out couch in the plane. It’s not that big, but it beats nothing.”

  Brooke eyed him and said, “Well, well, isn’t that convenient?”

  “I’ll sleep on the captain’s chair. You can have the couch. I’m so exhausted, I could sleep standing up.”

  Brooke insisted, “You’re bigger. You can have the pull out—”

  “I wouldn’t think of it. The bed’s yours. I’m fine in the chair—it reclines.”

  Inside the plane, Chase set up the bed while Brooke viewed from the steps. Her heart raced, she felt a stirring and blushed, unable to control her urges. It had been easy to hate him since the pink slip call, but his side of the story altered her paradigm. Her barriers were falling in his presence. The memories of that night came flooding in.

  “All set,” Chase whirled around.

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve slept in tents before.”

  “Good, because unless we get lucky on a car and hotel rooms, we may be backpacking to Disney.”

  Brooke laughed nervously, then said, “I don’t care. I just want to find Parker.”

  Chase kept his mind preoccupied enough to avoid worrying, but the mention of his son’s name made him cringe. He said, “I’m gonna walk around and give you some privacy to get ready.”

  Chase bounded down the steps; Brooke glanced at the chair and guilt overwhelmed her. Brooke considered Chase’s good qualities—marveling at how nice he truly was and how he kept getting more attractive by the minute. Beyond his good looks, he had a kindness that drew her in like a high-powered magnet. She recalled his patience when she hurt her ankle, how he interfaced with other people, devoid of pretense. And now, with his son kidnapped by the woman who deserted him, he offered her the comfy bed. He didn’t fit the mold of lawyer, dukie, selfish greedy executive, shark, or snake.

  Brooke surveyed outside—coast clear—she pulled off her dress, removed her bra, then slipped on a North Carolina T-shirt and grinned. Let’s see Mister Wonderful when he views Tar Heels.

  Brooke laid down on her side, facing the plane’s door and hummed. She heard footsteps, then a knock, “It’s me. Permission to enter…”

  Brooke giggled, then said, “Permission granted captain.”

  After the whoosh of the door, Chase’s face glowed, his smile illuminated from the hangar’s dim lights. “My, don’t you look cozy.”

  “I feel bad. You sure you don’t want the bed?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he pulled the door shut and lowered the lock bar, “I’m fine in my pilot’s chair. It’ll be like the college days.”

  Chase broke the silence, “Just to make myself clear, it doesn’t bother me to give you the bed…Wanna know what does tick me off?”

  “What?”

  “Seeing that God-awful shirt. You’re gonna give me nightmares.”

  They both laughed, then Brooke said, “Lucky for you I had it in my bag.”

  “Tar Heels give me a rash.”

  “Very funny. Blue Devils give me…never mind.”

  After a brief pause, Chase said, “I’m not even tired now. I feel like I’m a kid on a sleepover.”

  Brooke giggled, “Me too.”

  Chase inhaled, then said, “On a serious note, thanks for coming along. You’ve helped me keep my mind off things.”

  “Don’t mention it. I feel responsible for this mess and I can’t even imagine what you must be going through.”

  Chase sighed, then said, “I’m sorry about everything. I…I can’t believe how my words came out so wrong. I’m such an idiot sometimes. I can only imagine how it made you feel.”

  Brooke warmed. “I’m glad you weren’t the evil CEO after all.”

  “I don’t know how long I can stay a CEO there. I feel like I’m in quick sand—I’ve failed as a husband, I don’t spend nearly enough time with my son, and Pharmical isn’t the same company I joined. I’m sorry about the way they treated you…I wish I had been there—none of this would have happened.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say, but, honestly, it was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. I feel like a new person. I love working with children—especially Parker. He’s so cute…I just adore him. You must be so proud.”

  Chase’s eyes misted. He needed to shift gears or spend the night balling. He said, “We’ve spent all this time talking about me. What about you?”

  “What do you want to know?” Brooke’s mouth went dry.

  Chase dabbed his eyes, then said, “Why isn’t a gorgeous, intelligent woman like you married?”

  Deep breath, then a dry gulp, she said, “I was.” Brooke wanted to change the subject.

  “Are you divorced?”

  “No, my husband died.”

  Silence, then, “I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have asked…”

  “No, it’s okay. You told me your personal story, now it’s my turn. You sure you want to know? This could take all night...”

  “Of course. I’m wide awake anyway…”

  Brooke inhaled deeply, “I married my high school sweetheart—Tanner—we went to Chapel Hill together. He played football, I ran cross country. After college, we married,” Brooke’s eyes moistened.

  “If this is too hard for—”

  Brooke continued, “No, I’m okay…we were broke, but happy, both working hard, and in love…”

  Chase heard Brooke sniffle, then paused, lowered his voice to a near whisper, “What happened?”

  “Well, I became pregnant, and we were so happy. Then a few weeks later, we got the news that Tanner had a rare form of leukemia—CML. By the time he went to the doctor, it was stage four. He lost eighty pounds so fast, I lost the baby, then he couldn’t take it anymore…” Brooke couldn’t continue as a tear dropped off her cheek.

  Chase climbed out of the cockpit and began caressing Brooke’s hair. He slid his silk handkerchief from his back pocket, and without uttering a sound, handed it to her. Brooke blew into it three times, then said, “I’m sorry—”

  Chase placed his finger across her lips and said, “Don’t be. I can’t imagine what you went through.”

  Brooke said, “Well, you and I both kinda went through the same thing. I’m not sure what’s worse—suicide or killing yourself with drugs.”

  They gazed into each other’s eyes in silence. Eventually, their sadness subsided, replaced by a tranquil comfort. Chase eased in beside Brooke, caressing her hair in soporific strokes, until her eyes closed and her breathing deepened. H
olding Brooke, his mind drifted to Parker, who could only fall asleep with his soothing presence. He quietly said a special prayer.

  He smiled at Brooke. She even looked cute sleeping. He began murmuring into her ear, “How could I have been such a fool? Why couldn’t I have met you sooner?” Brooke rustled with lips curling, eyes closed; Chase froze.

  After Brooke’s breathing returned to a deep wave, he held her and closed his eyes.

  ***

  Where am I? Panic permeated, her fluttering eyes made it difficult to focus…

  His arm wrapped around the back of her shirt. Brooke budged, then realization set in. Brooke relaxed, and recalled the previous night. I don’t remember sleeping with him—did we…She felt for her panties—still on—and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Brooke eyed him closely. Chase’s breathing was heavy and Brooke wondered if they slept facing each other all night. Brooke decided not to wake him; his large hand warmed her chilled back.

  Settling in, Brooke remembered the sweet things he said—while he thought she was sleeping. He could have easily taken advantage of her; though part of her wished he had, she appreciated how he respected her. Once again, she realized she had misread him, a rare gentleman.

  Chase’s eyelids flickered, then popped open. He flinched, then as his pupils focused on Brooke’s deep blue eyes, he grinned. Brooke said, “Good morning sleepy head.”

  Chase yawned, then said, “Good morning sunshine. How long have you been awake?”

  “I just woke up a minute before you,” she lied, “I didn’t want to disturb your sleep—plus, you’re so warm,” thinking inside and out.

  Chase beamed while his eyelashes lazily blinked. Neither one of them moved; they just looked deep into each other’s eyes. Chase finally said, “Any idea what time it is?”

  As Brooke shook her head, Chase slid his hand to rest on her neck, and kissed her.

  Brooke pulled back, and said, “It’s time for me to find a toothbrush—and a shower.”

  “You’re perfect to me.”

  “You need a nose job and glasses.” They both laughed.

  Chase’s eyes revealed a deep desire, but the task at hand weighed on him. Before breaking from their cozy cuddle, he said, “I enjoyed our sleep over.”