Fearless Flying by Karen Gordon - HTML preview

Thank you for Fearless Flying with Vivienne. I hope you enjoyed your flight.

The journey continues in book two of The Vivienne Series, HiJack. Keep reading to find out how to get your FREE copy.

Wondering why the CEO is so interested in Viv? Here’s chapter one from HiJack to get you started on the next leg of her journey.

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One of the advantages of living alone is that there is no one to judge you when you stand in front of your closet only wearing your Wonder Woman gold cuffs and tiara. I need to feel powerful this morning. I need to get dressed and go to work and to my lunch meeting with Mr. Rockhurst.

Not that I plan on wearing my Wonder Woman costume (although, I considered wearing it under my work clothes, minus the jewelry).

I spent the weekend deep in self-care mode. On my way home from work on Friday I stopped at the grocery to stock up on comfort foods. When I got home, I purposefully ignored the emptiness and busied myself with clearing away the last of the Danny messes then setting up my chick cave for a full-on pity party. Winter had finally arrived and the cold, rainy weekend ahead fit my mood to a tee. I washed and dried my pink hugging pillow then pulled my winter furry blanket from the storage chest. I wasn’t ready to sleep in my bed alone, so the couch would be my world for the next two days. While the water boiled for the potatoes I was going to cream, I lit lavender and rose candles.

Dom couldn’t take either night off from the restaurant, but we made plans for tomorrow to be a spa day for just the two of us. My phone kept dinging as I prepped for my night. It was Dom sending me more recipes for homemade masks, salt scrubs and deep hair conditioners. I always loved silence and usually spent days at home without turning on the TV or music. But tonight it was too silent, Danny’s voice conspicuously missing. So I played Vivaldi while I changed into my softest pink PJ’s then put the finishing touches on my dinner.

When I climbed under my blanket and settled in for my dinner, I was in Vivienne heaven—a heaping bowl of creamed potatoes topped with cheddar for dinner, a beautiful chilled rosé wine, followed by a dense chocolate cupcake. Once I had filled the hollow space in my core with food, I queued up the tears. City of Angels did it for me every time. It may have taken me days to break down and cry when my dad died, but Meg Ryan could get me there in less than two hours. I wailed. I sobbed until my chest hurt and I felt like I had cried myself dry. I cried for my dad, for Danny, for me, for Meg and for her Angel. Damn I felt for Nicholas Cage like I never had before—left alone in the world with all his love to give. I cried myself to sleep.

Dom scraped up what was left of me the next day. She molded me back into some semblance of my old self with lotions and potions, and lots of handholding and encouraging words. She brought Starbucks and chocolate croissants and her mama’s roast pork and plantains to heat up for dinner.

By Saturday night my mood had started to shift. Creamed potatoes were replaced by Puerto Rican comfort food. My pink jammies were tossed in the laundry in favor of yoga pants and a cami. Vivaldi gave way to Kelly Clarkson, and Meg and Nicholas were put back in storage. I spent the night on the couch watching Julia Roberts Eat, Pray, Love her way around the world. It was good to see someone else recovering from loss.

Now I’m in Wonder Woman mode, ready to tackle…I have no idea. Lunch, that’s obvious, but why?

I finally opt for a business suit, but give it some key Vivienne touches. For one, I skip the shirt. A strategically placed safety pin keeps the neckline of my jacket exactly where I want it. It’s intriguing and I add my delicate gold necklace with the Irish goddess symbol charm to boost my powers. I’ll take all the help I can get today. I keep my makeup and jewelry simple to offset the sexy effect of no blouse. And, my pièce de la résistance—four inch heels. They’re classic pumps but with devilishly pointy toes that look like they could injure you. They will also make me exactly the same height as Joel Rockhurst. I checked online, he’s 6’2”. It’s harder to be intimidating when you are eye to eye.

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I feel fierce and ready for whatever he throws at me when I show up at Carolyn’s desk. She’s on her phone, but she smiles up at me and points to his door, indicating that I should go in. I smile back, suck in a deep breath and pull myself up to my full height before I open the door.

Joel Rockhurst looks like the CEO of a private jet company should, if you’re going by Hollywood standards anyway. He’s a sixty-three year-old silver fox, aging like Richard Gere or Kevin Costner—all distinguished and kinda sexy. He has the body of a man with a personal chef and a private trainer and just enough lines on his face to make it look like he hadn’t hit the Botox, yet. When I walk in, he’s also on the phone and fiddling with a golf club while he talks. He uses it to point to a chair in front of his desk, indicating that I should sit there. I sit on the edge. I don’t want to get comfortable until I know what this meeting is about.

As he finishes his call I study his office. Most of it is pretty generic for anyone in our industry--glamour shots of all the planes we make, awards for charity work, a few golf trophies. There are photos on his desk, probably of his family, but they’re facing away from me so I can’t scrutinize them. The décor says wealthy, but is more business than flash. Like him, it’s all understated. The desk alone probably costs more than my car, but it’s made to look more mundane and well-used. There’s a marble-topped table next to my chair with two industry magazines and an interesting paper weight. I can’t resist the urge to turn it toward me.

As he hangs up, he catches me and smiles. “Welcome to my office, Ms. Ramsey. I’m glad you could make it.” He doesn’t stand up to greet me. He’s keeping it casual, except for my name.

“Thank you.” I smile back and try to look relaxed. I don’t let go of the paperweight but instead pick it up. “EPR gauge,” I note. I study the face further. “From a 1960’s model J2.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I was right about you.”

Ok, that was cryptic. “Sir?” I have to know more. Right about me how?

He pushes himself out of his chair and walks past me to the conference table at the far end of the room. “I hope you like chicken, Ms. Ramsey. I always have chicken on Mondays.”

What a perfect Joel Rockhurst statement. It sounds accommodating, but isn’t.

I shrug. “Chicken is great.” I stand and walk toward the table making sure I stand near him briefly and face him, eye to eye. He pulls the chair out for me and I sit. “Thank you.”

As he walks toward a bar cart he asks, “What can I get you to drink?”

I play it safe. “Water would be great.”

He returns with a glass of water for me and a glass of tea for himself. When he sets it down, I push a small plate containing lemon slices toward him and he nods. “You’re good.”

Ok, we’ve established that. I don’t think my nerves are showing, but my irritation might soon if he doesn’t get to the point.

He sits and immediately begins to cut his chicken and green beans. I follow suit. After chewing and swallowing his first bite, he finally gets to the point.

“Have you met my son, Jack?”

I pretend to be searching my memory, but there is no reason on God’s green earth I would know his son. Sure we’re about the same age, but we don’t exactly run in the same circles. “No sir. I don’t think so.”

“Well, he’s finished up at Duke and will be starting here in a few weeks.”

And we have an answer. He keeps talking but it’s clear. I’m here because I’m going to be working for Jack. He wants me to be his son’s secretary.

He is still talking, saying something about marketing and Jack’s degree, but I’m already scanning my memory for any tidbit of information on this guy. I come up with very little. All I really know is that he’s Joel’s son from his second marriage and must be twenty-two or twenty-three if he just graduated.

I take a bite of my chicken and try to casually chew it, but I’m already itching to get out of there and get to a computer to find out more about my new boss. Joel finishing a sentence with, “so, how does that sound to you?” snaps my attention back to him.

I hope my smile looks genuine. “It sounds…fantastic.” Because really, what else am I going to say? It sounds like a perfectly shitty idea, sir. It’s my new job now whether I want it or not.

“Of course, your new position will put you in a new salary grade. Carolyn will go over all that with you.”

I nod and I think he is wrapping things up, but then he pushes his plate away and leans in to me. “I’ve watched the work you do for Bob, Vivienne.”

He’s switched to my first name now. This has my attention.

“You are amazingly organized, hard-working, loyal. Jack will need someone like you to…help him.” He’s choosing his words carefully and I’m trying to read between the lines. “It may take him some time to adjust to a corporate schedule. I’m counting on you to help with that transition.” He puts heavy emphasis on the word help.

I nod like I’m in complete agreement, but I’m not sure why he’s stressing this to me. Is his kid mentally deficient in some way? Why is he pushing this idea so hard?

“I will do my best, sir.” Now, I’m really dying to wrap this up and get to a computer. “And, I truly appreciate you choosing me for this position.”

He seems satisfied that I’ve read his code words because he reaches across like he is going to shake my hand, only he squeezes it instead, like a family member or friend might. Are we conspirators now? Did I just join team Joel and Jack? It’s all sitting way too heavy in my stomach for me to eat so I excuse myself, saying that I had a huge breakfast and giving some lame excuse about needing to get back to my desk.

Thank god he lets me go. But then there’s Carolyn. As Joel ushers me out she smiles up at me like I just won the lottery and she’s giving me the big check.

“Here’s your packet.”

Joel excuses himself before going back in his office and shutting the door. I take the heavy packet from Carolyn and force as genuine a smile as possible. This could be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Maybe I should be grinning from ear to ear, but I can’t do that until I know for sure. I don’t do happy on half information.

I peak inside the packet. “Wow, there’s a lot here. I’ve got some studying to do.”

“You’ve got time.” She reassures me. “You’ll officially start next week but if you want to I’ll give you a tour of your new office.”

An office. I get an office. Not a desk, an office. This is sounding pretty good already. I’m picturing an inside, smaller office, but I’m still thrilled. Chances are it will have a door. I’ve always wanted an office with a door. I can’t take the tour now. I just told Joel I had to get back to my desk. I beg off until tomorrow.

Now for the tricky part, I’m jonesing to google Jack Rockhurst like an addict needing a heroine fix. But digging the dirt on him on a company computer is not a good idea. This is a job for Dom. I text her.

And the best news—the entire Vivienne Series will be published in 2017! I will never make you wait very long to find out what happens next.