Two weeks later
Chicago (7:40 p.m. CST)
The fact that there always seemed to be a gale whipping the canyons of downtown Chicago had impressed Dan Horneman, and this evening was no exception: While dashing into the posh steakhouse, a wild gust inverted the umbrella he’d raised against a light rain.
His date had fared no better.
Laura Snyder hadn’t quite repaired the serious tousling the wind had given her impressive mane of auburn hair. She had an almost feral look, he thought, as he watched her across the table. Wild and exciting, and hopefully eager for change.
Of course, whether she was his date tonight, or merely his curious ex, was yet to be determined.
Laura tossed her hair back and took a sip of Cabernet, her eyes finally boring into his with a familiar intensity.
“So, let’s get to it, flyboy. I figure there’s only one possible reason that you could have asked to see me tonight, since you know how I detest globetrotting men.” She stopped, noting his lecherous expression. “A reason other than wanting sex.”
“It has been a long time!” he laughed. “At least for us.”
“Yes, it has, and therefore I assume you’ve decided to abandon being a gypsy at long last in order to resume chasing me.”
“What?”
“In other words, you’ve invited me here to announce that you’re resigning from Pangia to lead a normal life. Right?”
“Wrong.”
“Wrong? Then, why did you call me?”
“Well, why did you come?” he replied. “Fact is, I never thought a scorched-earth resignation was a condition precedent for your affections.”
“Then you weren’t paying attention,” she said, smiling back at him ruefully.
She slowly placed the wine glass on the tablecloth, letting a few seconds elapse before replying.
“I came, Danny, because I care about you, and I guess I remain curious about when you’re going to stop chasing what you already have.”
“You mean, the money?”
“No! Not the money. Your own immense worth to the world. To yourself. Maybe even to me. Have you proven everything you wanted to prove? Is the quest over?”
It was his turn to pause, his eyes studying the base of his wine glass as he twirled it slightly, nodding.
“I think I’m done apologizing, if that’s what you mean.”
“What, to me? You certainly don’t need to.”
“No. To the world in general, as well as all my fellow airline pilots. Apologizing for the money, for not staying and making more, for the steep learning curve as a pilot, all of it. Apologizing, as you say, for trying to prove something.”
“So, what changed? I mean, I know about the flight from hell, of course, and your incredible landing in Baghdad. Everyone knows.”
“Did you know they just offered me an early upgrade to captain, jumping the seniority list, as a training captain?”
Her expression fell slightly. “Really?”
“Yes. Just this morning!”
“So, we’re here to celebrate?”
“The CEO made the offer. Apparently the stuffed-shirt captain who was with us that night, name of Bill Breem, joined Jerry Tollefson, the flight captain, in recommending the upgrade. And believe me, Tollefson was no fan of mine, at least not before that flight.”
She nodded and forced a smile. “Then, clearly, congratulations are in order, Captain. I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”
“I turned them down, Laura.”
She looked up at him then, head slightly cocked, memories flooding back of her childhood as the daughter of an airline pilot.
“You turned down an early captain upgrade?” she asked, incredulously. “Isn’t that bordering on insanity?”
“Some will think so.”
“Why, if you’re not quitting?”
“I may. Quit, that is. Later, when I’m ready. But this is where I want to be for the moment, and, well…”
She nodded suddenly, knowingly, and smiled. “Aha! And, for the first time, you feel like you belong. Am I right?”
His smile broadened. “Yes.”
“Was that what it was all about? Years of flight training and knocking around like a pimply-faced twenty-something living out of a bag? All of it just to be accepted?”
He took his finger and traced the rim of his wine glass, studying it before looking up to meet her rock-steady gaze.
“I’ve learned, Laura, that when great wealth comes too easily, it forces a man to question his own self-worth.”
“That’s eloquent, Dan.”
“You asked why I called you? Because I could always depend on you to cut to the heart of the matter.”
“Okay, I’m not a diplomat.”
“No,” he chuckled, “You definitely are not a diplomat! But, you are one of those rare people who will tell the brutal truth.”
“And you’re sidestepping my question.”
“No,” he interrupted, a finger in the air, “I’m not. I’m getting there. It was more than being accepted. It was a burning need to earn at least a modicum of respect, not for how much money I might have been lucky enough to make, but for something difficult I accomplished that can’t be measured by bank balances, something I had to do myself.”
“And that was flying?”
“Yes. I’ve always wanted to fly, but this…this involved invading a fraternity, and a tough one at that. Gaining their respect has proven very challenging, and without that hellish flight, I doubt I’d have it yet.”
“In my view, Dan, it was unnecessary, but I’m not you. I already know what I’m good at, and what I’m not so good at, and I still respect me.”
“I respect you, too.”
She waved the compliment away.
“So, I get it, Danny. You needed to challenge yourself. I felt the same in law school. I had to be number one in my law class to prove to myself that when I concentrate on something, there are no barriers I can’t jump over.”
“Yes! Same thing. And you succeeded.”
“No, I didn’t. I came out number two, but it was okay. As for your quest, what have you learned?”
He smiled and nodded slowly. “That I can be a good leader as well as a team player, and good pilot. I was just trying to be a good pilot.”
“And now you plan to keep on flying, just in order to keep validating that finding, over and over and over?”
“Not much longer. Truth is, after thinking my way through some of the more dismal moments on that flight—when I wasn’t sure how we had a chance at salvation—I realized I have other priorities more important to me than flying or even making captain. He stopped and smiled slowly as he met her eyes. “In fact, one priority in particular.”
“Which priority is that?”
“You.”