Come Fly With Me

by Sandi Perry

  “Ew, you are so gross! And juvenile, what’s your deal, Alex?”

  “Gotcha!”

  “Might I remind you that you are supposed to be on your best behavior, we haven’t signed a new contract yet.”

  “I apologize. I couldn’t resist—your expression reminded me of my sisters.”

  “Oh, you have sisters—how many?”

  “Four.”

  “Did you say four?”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  “And you are…?”

  “Smack in the middle. My older sisters used to put ribbons in my hair and my younger sisters would force me to sit at their tea parties.”

  “Why didn’t they just play with one another and leave you alone?”

  “’Cuz that wouldn’t have irked my dad—and annoying my dad is the most fun game of all,” he laughed.

  “Will they all be at the party?”

  “Of course—attendance is mandatory. Besides, it’s easy for them, they all live within shouting distance of each other.”

  “Really? How unusual.”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s a family requirement. Children are the must-have accessory. And having grandchildren nearby is part of the sisterhood code; showing them off is a favorite pastime in Buckhead. Also, whomever’s daughter manages to stay married to the richest son-of-a-bitch, and is able to maintain her prom weight is the winner—competition is the lifeblood of society down south.”

  “So, then by those standards, you’ve lost.”

  “Actually, I’ve maintained my prom weight."

  Allison rolled her eyes in response.

  "But, I've won, you see, because I got the hell out. And anyway, since I’m a rich son-of-a-bitch, I can get married at anytime and still enter the race.”

  “You’re pulling my leg about all of this, Alex.”

  “I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. Did I mention that my mother is a former beauty-queen winner? The information is fuzzy as to which contest she was actually a participant in, but what we all know for sure is that she WON. She pulled out the rhinestone tiara for my sisters’ weddings.”

  “I guess that’s kind of sweet, that the ‘borrowed’ thing they wore was something so meaningful to their mother.”

  Alex smiled, “My mother wore the tiara.”

  Allison’s eyes opened wide, “Now you’re pushing it—that could not possibly have happened.”

  “I think you’ll be seeing all kinds of crazy this weekend." Alexander’s eyes glinted with amusement.

  Allison’s head was spinning; she was convinced that he was just amusing himself at her expense. I can’t even trust him to have a civilized conversation with me, how can I possibly trust him to run this company. I think I’ve come on a fool’s errand. Great idea, Emily.

  Her look was skeptical. “Fine, have it your way, but if I could switch topics for a second, when did you realize you had a fascination with planes and engineering?”

  He scratched his chin. “I reckon that would have been the first time Daddy took me up in his Gulfstream IV.”

  She rolled her eyes again, “Your father owns a jet?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked at him silently for a few beats and then shook her head. “I've been meaning to Google you. So, your family really does have money?”

  He nodded. “The Coventrys are an old-moneyed family with deep roots in the South. My daddy used to say that money grew on trees, and I believed him.”

  “So you meant it when you said back at the office that you could start your own thing.”

  “Yes,” he replied. “I may sound flip about a lot of things, but no one could ever accuse me of being a liar—or a fool.”

  “So, why work for my father, why not try your own hand at it?”

  “Well, first off, I didn’t know a thing about running a company a few years ago. And secondly, Daddy’s money comes at a steep price.”

  She nodded, “It usually does. I don’t think family and business mix.”

  “Is that why you opted out of joining the business?" Alex asked. "You obviously have a very sharp business mind; you seem to have grasped a lot about the business in a short amount of time.”

  “I don’t think my relationship with my father could have survived had we worked together. My father and I went toe to toe on a lot of things. That would have been a disastrous mix in business. My father was used to being unchallenged in our home. When I was old enough to talk, I started to face up to him and haven’t stopped since. Well, up until a few weeks ago, I guess.”

  Alex nodded. “Right. That is tough; the suddenness of the whole thing.”

  “You know, I’m kind of glad it happened that way.” When she noted Alex’s surprised expression she hurried to explain. “My father was always such a presence in a room; my mother learned early on that he cast a large shadow and found that the house remained peaceful if she stood one step behind him. He commanded a lot of respect and attention. I would have hated to watch someone with such zest wither away through a prolonged illness. He’ll always remain vibrant and alive in my mind.”

  “Well, it seems like you’ve gotten much of your father’s strength of character.”

  “I’m like him in a lot of ways—that’s why we clashed so much. But it’s my mother I really admire. Marriages followed a different formula thirty-five years ago. She deferred to my father in family decisions, even though her advice and counsel many times would have been more reasonable. She is smart and talented, a gifted artisan, who allowed her needs to sit in the background while she put her energy into her home and family. That’s probably why I’m self-centered; I never want to abdicate my control to a man like she did.” She shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable for having spoken so easily and openly to him.

  He was smiling and shaking his head. “We couldn’t come from more dissimilar backgrounds. In my house, my mother is in charge and my father is so crazy about her, that he lovingly steps aside and lets the spotlight stay directly on her. It’s a fascinating dynamic. They grew up together and were childhood sweethearts. They have a beautiful, crazy bond that seems to have worked for all these years. I think you’ll really enjoy meeting them. There are all different types of marriages, just like there are all different types of people. You should keep an open mind toward the institution.”

  “That’s not what I would have expected you to say. Here you are, thirty-four, maybe thirty-five?”

  He nodded.

  “And unattached,” she finished.

  “As soon as I feel more settled in my career, I’ll marry.”

  Allison studied his profile as he looked out over the brightly lit city. He'd tossed off those last words with such ease, as if he was saying, “please pass the mustard” with the confidence of a man who knows exactly where he’s headed. Allison followed his line of sight and steeled herself for the landing. She admired his matter-of-fact approach to life; he was non-judgmental and easy to talk to—maybe he was right, and she was starting to like him. The plane dipped a little as it began its descent. She gasped and Alex turned toward her with concern.

  “I’m fine, I just hate flying,” she said meekly.

  “Well, aren’t you just full of surprises,” Alex said.

  ****

  He opened her door of the cab as he dropped her off at the Ritz-Carlton in North Buckhead. “You sure you don’t want to grab a quick bite? You didn’t eat anything on the plane,” Alex offered.

  “I’m fine, it’s late and I want to settle in, thank you, though," Allison said.

  “Okay, I’ll swing by here around eleven tomorrow, and we’ll grab some brunch. We’ll walk around town a little; I’ll give you the full tour. Maybe, I’ll even show you the cell at the county lock-up where I slept for a few nights of my misspent youth.”

  “Alex! You did not!”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Full disclosure, that’s my motto. See you at eleven.”

  He left her standing in the lobby of the hotel. If I weren't so desperate to clear up
the mess that was left in my care, I would be back in New York instead of down here in Georgia on a fruitless mission, she thought. Sure, he was charming, and about as lethal as a rattlesnake. She shook her head in disgust as she walked toward the bank of elevators and stabbed at the button with the arrow facing up. She looked at her two button choices. There really should be another button, she thought. How about, 'you're shit out of luck and getting nowhere fast.'

  Chapter 13

  The next morning Alex drove down Peachtree Road and pulled up in front of the Ritz-Carlton. He handed the keys to his classic 1963 Porsche 356 to the valet out front, together with a generous tip, and told him he’d only be a minute. Allison was just getting off the elevator as Alex sauntered through the double-glass sliding doors. Spotting him she called out, “Alex, good morning!" as she waved invitingly at him.

  "You look lovely," he smiled. "Are you ready to greet the day Buckhead-style?"

  "I guess I am."

  They walked out into the bright sunshine and Allison arched an eyebrow as she got into the car.

  “It was a college graduation present. My father was so excited he nearly wept— he never thought the day would come,” Alex said.

  “If high school was such a disaster, how did you get into Harvard?”

  “The next time you’re in Bean town, why don’t you stop by the campus and check out the new Horatio Coventry wing of the library,” he said.

  “Stop it!” she exclaimed.

  “I wish I could, sweetheart, but I'm afraid you've hitched your wagon to a runaway train. But you'll be glad to know that I buckled down and aced my way through college and M.I.T., so I did acquire some actual skills.”

  His eyes crinkled as he good-naturedly poked fun at himself. He was much more than most of the men she knew, Allison thought. She gave him a full smile when he turned to look at her.

  “You’re even more beautiful when you're relaxed,” he said.

  “Thank you. I didn’t expect you to say that.”

  “Why not? It’s true.”

  "But very personal. And…well, we have a professional relationship.”

  . “I think we can manage both,” he said cheekily. “You're in my car, in my hometown, about to meet my family. None of this feels very business-like.”

  “Alex, I’m sorry. You might have gotten the wrong impression. This whole situation is a little peculiar, but I have no desire to take this relationship anywhere except strictly business.”

  They pulled up in front of Mary Anne’s— where it seemed you could get: The best damn coffee, ever.

  “Allison, we’ll continue this discussion at a later date. Right now, I’m very hungry, and I’m liable to say something you don’t want to hear—just yet.” He came around and opened her door. He reached in and guided her up and out of the low seat. He pressed her up against the car and whispered in her ear. “We’ll do it your way, first. But when we’re done with business, I’ll show you a thing or two about pleasure.” He kissed the tip of her nose. He took her by the hand and walked into the restaurant with her as if they were longtime girlfriend and boyfriend, rather than the strangers that they really were. Alex waved his hand at MaryAnne and led Allison to a table in the back.

  Allison mutely observed Alex’s easy banter as he stopped here and there to chat it up with old friends. He seemed more like a returning football hero rather than the product of a misspent youth that he had led her to believe. As they sat down, Alex handed her a menu that she promptly put down, unread.

  “You seem popular,” she said, eyes narrowed.

  “Ain’t nuthin’ wrong with that,” he beamed.

  “You can cut it out, Alex. You’re some Ivy-league grown millionaire from a prominent family—the 'misguided youth act' is disingenuous.” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “Breaking out the ten-dollar words—I believe I am being scolded. I don’t remember it being this much fun, though.”

  “Alexander.”

  “No, no, sorry, Allison, only my Mother gets to pull the ‘Alexander’ card.”

  “Okay, so which is it? Hero or hooligan?’

  “It’s a bit of both. I believe that is my winning combo.”

  Allison picked up her menu with a harrumph. “You’re very difficult to get a straight answer out of you know. It can be irritating.”

  “Or mysterious and fascinating—it’s all how you frame it,” Alex said easily.

  Penelope, Mary Anne’s daughter, came to take their order. “Alex, so glad you could blow into town. We all figured you’d be back for your Momma’s party. Whatcha having?”

  Penelope was very plain looking; her only remarkable feature was her wavy, almost natural-looking auburn hair. Her boobs acted as heat-seeking missiles on a mission as they leaned in toward Alex, looking for a comfortable place to set down. Allison's eyes widened in amusement at the pathetic, high school-like gesture and quickly raised her menu higher to avoid Alex’s knowing look.

  He winked at her as he caught her expression. “Ally, honey, would you like to give your order to Penelope?”

  Penelope turned her head and looked at Allison, blinking in surprise as if she'd just registered her presence. “Oh, brother,” Allison mumbled under her breath. “I’ll have the western omelet, whole wheat toast, and a large coffee.”

  “Excellent choice, I’ll have the same. Except make my toast white instead of the whole-wheat.” Alex smiled at Penelope.

  She leaned in to take his menu and breathed at him, “Maybe, I’ll see you after the party—Damon’s band is playing at The Beatnik.” She walked off toward the kitchen, sashaying for all it was worth.

  “Yuck, could she be any more obvious? Tell me you used to date her,” Ally scoffed.

  “Everyone used to date her,” Alex laughed.

  “Who’s Damon?” she wanted to know.

  “Penelope’s brother. He has a decent group, but he drank his way out of a recording contract. I hear he’s trying to get back on his feet again.”

  She nodded and looked around. “This place is pretty full. I guess the economy is okay in Buckhead.”

  “MaryAnne’s is recession-proof. The food's delicious and plentiful, and it’s everyone’s first stop when they come back to town,” he said.

  “I guess it’s quicker than sending out smoke signals.”

  “Small-town living has its charms—as long as you’re not the one living there.”

  She nodded once again and smiled as Penelope returned, balancing their order. She hardly spared a glance at Allison.

  “She doesn’t seem to like me, not that I care.”

  “The women in this town don’t like to share,” Alex informed her.

  “I’m not your girl. Maybe I should have a pin made up.”

  Alex put down his fork as he reached for his steaming mug of coffee. He lifted it in salute, a cocksure smile on his face and said, “Time will tell.”

  Chapter 14

  A couple of hours later Alexander and Allison drove down an endless driveway lined with copper-beech trees that led to his parents' house.

  “So, tell me,” Allison said as she looked around in awe at the vast estate; she half expected Clark Gable to step out onto the front veranda to greet them. “What are your sisters’ names?”

  “Annabelle, Mirabelle, Sara Belle, and Bella Sue.”

  “Oh, that last one caught me by surprise, or should I say they all did. I don’t know anymore.” She scratched her chin in confusion.

  “Well, my Mama always wanted for her gals to be the ‘Belles’ of the ball. By the time they got to daughter number four, my father put his foot down. He didn’t want his daughters to become a laughingstock. At least one of them has some sense.”

  “This property is amazing. If I lived here I would never leave.”

  “Oh yes, you would,” Alex said knowingly.

  They heard loud laughter and animated conversation coming from around the back of the house and walked along the cobblestone path through the rose
arbor toward the source of the noise. Allison noticed immediately that all the females were beautiful and had almost exact matching shades of honey-blonde hair, even the young children. She didn’t know if they used the same hairdresser or if it was a function of their genetics, but the result was startling. She felt out of place with her jet-black hair.

  Alex stepped up behind his mother and held his hands over her eyes. She let out a whoop of delight as she eagerly felt his hands. She flung them off with a flourish and hugged him with unbridled joy. She pulled back and still held him in her arms to get a good look at him. Her light-blue wrap dress clung to her curvaceous curves and the chunky crystal necklace she wore glinted in the sunlight, adding an extra sparkle to her middle-aged beauty.

  “Well, well, excuse mah mannahs.” She looped her left arm in her son’s and reached out her right to shake Allison's hand. “I’m Celeste Covington." She waved her hand over the back of her head, "That's my husband, Horatio.”

  She introduced her husband airily, as if it was a second thought. Allison thought it discourteous, and her interest in Celeste plummeted. She also observed that Celeste maintained a firm, possessive grip on her son and smiled to herself. She pitied the woman Alex would ultimately bring home to meet his mother—she would not hand him over graciously.

  “Mama, Dad, this is Allison Ross,” he smiled at her as he made the introductions.

  She noted that he left the nature of her visit unaddressed. He must have a death wish, because his mother was eying them both in a wary manner. Either she’ll kill him, or I’ll do it when we’re done here, Allison thought to herself when she was left floundering to make the explanations.

  “Mrs. Coventry, Alex and I are business associates. He works for my father’s company, and I am here simply to sound out the possibility of Alex moving upward within the ranks of the business—to see how nicely he plays with others.” Allison offered up what she hoped was a winning and non-confrontational smile.

  “Well, of course he plays nicely with others; you didn’t have to come all the way down here just to figure that out.” Celeste reached over with her hand and patted Alex's chest supportively, an uncertain look in her eyes. “You Yankee girls are overly uptight about these sorts of things. Life is all about taking chances.”