Fatal Flight Page 15

  “What happened?” Adam’s attention sharpened, fixed on his father.

  “She didn’t look anything like today. No wonder I didn’t recognize her, and with the different name—”

  “Dad, what happened?” Adam crumpled his napkin by his plate and turned facing his father.

  “She was engaged to Brian Severson. They were seen everywhere together.”

  “Severson, that little pri… ass. Sorry, Gita.”

  “Don’t be. I remember him as… Well, a more pompous, mama’s darling, I’ve yet to meet. The word suits him exactly.”

  “I remember I felt sorry for the girl. She was madly in love with him, turned herself into a china doll pleasing him. Her hair was a mass of curls, her dresses all frilly, like a Shirley Temple stand-in. Her heels always seemed too high. She wore too much make-up.” He paused, a frown creasing his brow. “There was too much of everything…too much trying to please him. Yet it was never good enough. He paraded her around like he’d won Olympic gold, yet criticized her in the hearing of others. Mortified, she’d just try harder. She had the heart of a lion,” Patrick said with remembered admiration. “I cheered her when she’d finally had enough.”

  “What happened?” Adam soaked up every detail, pushing the thought of Sky with Brian Severson as far back in his mind as he could. He envisioned finding the guy and beating him to pulp.

  “We were at a dinner party, and one of the servers was pouring red wine for the beef course. The table was set with some of that modernistic globe crystal, no stems. The red goblet was huge, way too big for her hand, so Sky picked up her white wine goblet. Brian started in on her, called her an idiot for not knowing the difference.”

  “He was always such a little worm and made himself feel bigger by putting other people down.” Gita nodded her head. “I wished I’d been there. I’d have embarrassed the heck out of him. That poor girl.”

  “She did the job for you.” Patrick sat back, a reflective smile lighting his face. “She poured the glass of red wine down the silk lapels of his customized white Armani dinner jacket and demanded he apologize.

  “He started ranting at her, so she took the bottle of wine from the server and upended it in the front of his pants. I remember she said the only thing that made her an idiot was getting engaged to him. Then she took off her engagement ring, dropped it in the red wine bowl, and asked him if she had gotten it right. Everyone at the table stood and applauded her as she walked out. I never saw her again. My God, that girl had spine.” He chuckled.

  Adam smiled at the image. He couldn’t get close to amusement, as all he could think of was Sky. She had been so young and innocent and in love, trying so hard and being undermined by the very man who should have protected her, stood with her against all the pretension. He’d tried to be that man since he met her, without ever quite knowing what was behind her dislike. Now that he understood, he wanted to be that man even more. Why did Gita have to show up?

  “I guess I really ruined things for you?” Her soft voice drew him from his introspection. “I’m sorry, Adam. I didn’t think things had gone that far between you. I looked at those photos you sent me and thought I could fly over here and meet her. I didn’t want to wait any longer.” Her sincere expression of regret dissipated his anger. He could understand how she felt. She hadn’t caused him problems on purpose. There was nothing manipulative or unreasonable about her action.

  “It’s all right, Gita. I’ll sort it out some way.” He sighed, already missing Sky, past his understanding of loss. Making love with her was like finding a new life; the exhilaration of her response and the passion they created together were something he’d hoped would be part of his life for a long time. But right now, he missed hearing her thoughts, seeing her compassion and fair mindedness, and watching her test herself every time she went up.

  “She’s quite reckless, isn’t she? Has she inherited Erik’s need for adrenaline?” Gita’s voice quavered as she too thought back to Sky’s death-defying performance.

  Adam’s response was quick and instinctive. “No, she loves the thrill, but she could walk away from it. She gave an outstanding performance, because this is a spectator show. It garners attention and funding for the pilots on next year’s circuit.”

  “She flew like the devil was on her tail,” Patrick interjected. “I’ve never seen anyone perform that close to the edge.”

  “She was upset. We hit her with something that frightened her just before she went up. The timing couldn’t have been worse,” Adam explained. His mouth tightened as again he thought of all the things he’d wanted to say to Sky. But he’d had to let go of his needs, help her focus on her performance in the only way he could, with her so angry at him.

  “Sky should never have gone up in the state she was in. She’s normally cool as ice, her brain like a computer. But she took a lot of chances today. This type of flying takes precision and split-second timing. You don’t have them if you’re focused on emotional issues. It’s damn lucky she didn’t kill herself.”

  “Because I showed up.”

  “It’s bigger than that, Gita. I understand now Dad’s told me about Brian. Sky has trust issues, especially with wealthy men. I promised her she’d be safe in Houston, wouldn’t meet you till she was ready, if ever. That’s why I asked you to stay home. So, why did you come? You didn’t trust me either?”

  “You were taking too long. I’m an old woman. I don’t have too much time left.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that. You’ll outlive me most likely. I’ll be an old man before I win back Sky’s trust,” he floundered, unable to express how much that mattered, how much it alarmed him watching Sky fly away, taking his chance to explain with her.

  As Gita’s shoulders rounded and a worried look shoved the winning smile from her face, he regretted his harsh response. But dammit, he knew how close to death aerobatic competition took its pilots and worry for Sky felt like over churned butter in his gut.

  “Excuse me. I have to make a phone call.” He rose from the table.

  The least he could do was let Max know what happened, have him prepared for Sky’s arrival, and beg Max to call him when she was safely on the ground. After that, he just didn’t know.

  ****

  Sky heard a plane circling their airfield. She’d instructed her last student of the morning, and as far as she knew, no one else had gone up. In the office, Pops was interviewing a woman who’d applied for the position of front-end reception and bookkeeper. So, it wasn’t him, though he’d been up several times the last two days, elated at having his license back and being able to fly again. She wondered if Adam was once again speeding across the sky in an F-18, testing their next prototype. She jerked her mind free when she realized she had let it drift onto a subject she’d forbidden. She could see the plane now. It circled coming in from the west—a white Cessna 185, four seater, with swanky blue stripes. She didn’t recognize the call sign painted on its fuselage.

  The plane settled down and slowed as it neared the end of the strip. She watched it taxi up to the hangar, her curiosity getting stronger by the second. She could see a hulking man sitting in the right seat but couldn’t quite make out the pilot on the far side and hidden by the man’s wide shoulders.

  The plane stopped. Max walked out of the hangar and stood beside her, his expression as curious as hers. The door opened, the huge man stepped out, climbed down, and quartered the airfield with all seeing eyes. Security, Sky guessed, then the bell dinged in her brain, and she swiveled on her heel, ready to make a quick getaway.

  Pops’ huge hand wrapped her arm. “Oh no you don’t. It’s about time you faced up to her, instead of running like a child.” He held her in place as Brigitta O’Shaughnessy took the hand of the large security guard and dropped onto the ground with the grace of a rose petal settling on a tea tray. With a brisk pace, she crossed the small span of concrete separating them. Another man left the plane and fell in behind her.

  “Mr. Stravinski,” Gita addr
essed Max, her gaze never leaving Sky. “I’ve come to talk with my granddaughter. Is that all right with you?” She looked at him then, waiting for his answer.

  “I have no reason to stop you. But if you upset her, I’ll have to step in, you understand.”

  “That is not, and never was, my intention. What happened in Houston was an unfortunate result of my impatience and miscommunication with Adam. I would never upset Sky on purpose.” She focused her gaze on Sky as she spoke. “I am sincerely sorry for shanghaiing you just before your performance and putting you in danger because of my impetuous nature. Please know it wasn’t calculated. I hope you can forgive me in time.”

  “Let’s take this inside, make ourselves comfortable,” Pops suggested as Sky remained mute.

  She looked into eyes identical to her own, saw true regret in them, and noted that Brigitta had used the name she now went by.

  She followed them into the hangar, muffling a sound of dissension when Pops started up the stairs to her loft. She didn’t want this woman in her home, seeing how she lived, the things with which she surrounded herself, and judging her for preferring a simple life. Brigitta waved off her security guards and started up the stairs after Pops, her steps quick, her breathing light. She was in darn good shape for a woman in her seventies. And apparently, she had her pilot’s license.

  Pops was thinking along the same line. “Didn’t know there was another flyer in the family. That’s a sweet plane you have there. We just ordered one and are waiting for delivery.” He pulled out a chair at the round table Sky had positioned off her kitchen, in the south window, indicating Gita should sit.

  “Thank you, Mr. Stravinski. Yes, it is a sweet plane. I’ve had this model three years and never once regretted buying it. She handled the flight in record time.”

  “Make it, Max. Can we offer you coffee, tea, a soda?”

  “I’d love a cola. Love my caffeine fix, but never enjoyed coffee that much.” She clasped her hands together and set them on the table. Her gaze traveled around the room, taking in Sky’s simple furnishing, bright pops of red and blue in the accessories, the shelf of trophies, and the large framed photo of Sky and her mother.

  “She was beautiful, your mother. I can see why Erik fell for her. I don’t for a minute condone my son abandoning a pregnant woman. She was fortunate that a good man like you wanted her, too, Max. And I dare say Sky is a lot better off for having you raise her instead of him. Erik seemed determined to mess up everyone and everything in his life.”

  Sky’s eyebrows shot up. So that was the way she was going to play it. Come down on their side, without even defending her wastrel son. She felt like her base had been pulled from beneath her, leaving her balanced over nothing.

  “Sky’s mother was beautiful in every way. I was fortunate to have her in my life and miss her every day. Having a daughter like Sky is a real blessing, Mrs. O’Shaughnessy.”

  “I thought we’d settled on first names. Mine is Brigitta, as I’m sure Sky has told you.”

  “You’re not a topic of discussion around here, Brigitta,” Sky interjected.

  The sweet smile on Brigitta’s face faded, as she took in Sky’s hostility. Her eyes took on a wounded look, but she firmed her quivering chin and straightened her shoulders.

  Max set a glass of fizzling soda in front of her, and she looked down, pretending an interest as she absorbed the blow of Sky’s attitude.

  “I lie awake nights wondering if you will accept me, worrying you won’t want me in your life, because of my son’s behavior. I question if you believe I should have raised him differently, made him a better man, and if you judge me for it.” She clasped her hands on the table again.

  Sky could see the fine tremor in them. She felt like she’d just kicked a kitten. “I’m not judging you for what your son did. Adam explained you were good parents, and Erik was out of control from the time he was young. Sometimes that happens. You must be a good pseudo mom as Adam thinks highly of you and tried hard to get me to meet you, then to get me to trust him, so I’d meet you for him.”

  “And you believe he was in on my arrival in Houston. I flew over here, because it was important for you to know he wasn’t. He did ask me to stay away, give you more time. I decided he was being over cautious and took it upon myself to meet you. And he did mention you’d commented on my lack of courage in sending him, instead of coming myself initially. I’m here to try to rectify both those mistakes and take full responsibility for them. I should have come looking for you. Yet, I was a coward, worried you’d reject me. I hoped Adam would persuade you, where I couldn’t.”

  Brigitta lifted her glass and took a careful sip.

  “Aren’t you having anything?” She looked from Max to Sky.

  “Oh, sorry. I’ll just grab a beer. Do you think your bodyguards would like a cold drink?” Max queried.

  “They probably would, along with directions to a washroom. It was a four-hour flight, and we still have to go back.”

  Gita waited until Max had left the room, three tall bottles in his hands. Sky gave in. Fate had been pushing her in this direction for weeks. She pulled out a chair and settled across the table from her grandmother. “Why is meeting me so important?”

  “You’re family, Sky. You have no idea how I’ve longed for family. I wanted more children, a daughter, and it wasn’t to be. I thought Erik would marry, and I’d gain a daughter then, but he wasn’t interested in tying himself down. So, with a son who died too young and my dear husband gone early, I’m lonely. No matter how many people you bring into your life, they’re not the same as blood. When I learned of you through your mother’s letter to Erik, I wanted to welcome you, get to know you, help you in any way I could.”

  She sighed and looked over at Sky. “Why didn’t you want to meet me, get to know me?”

  “It’s nothing personal.” Sky crossed her arms over her breasts and tried to look relaxed. “I have a family, Pops, and I don’t need anyone else.”

  “Oh, Sky, we all need as many people to love us as we can find.”

  “Love, from my experience, is a trap…binding you, forcing you to be someone you’re not, to please someone who will never be fully satisfied. I don’t need that.”

  “You’re talking about Brian,” Gita took in Sky’s muffled gasp and hurried on. “Patrick told me about him. He saw you toss the wine and the ring and applauded your actions. He just didn’t realize it was you when he met you last week. You’ve changed a lot according to him.”

  “Yes, I’m not a naïve twenty-year-old, dressing like a bimbo, and chasing after a man who had nothing to offer but his ego.”

  “Well, we can agree on that. I knew the little pipsqueak when he went to school with Adam. He flunked out of Harvard and lived for parties and shopping. Never did a good day’s work in his life. His parents spoiled him rotten. I’m sorry you loved him and were hurt, but I’m glad you never stayed with him. He’d have made your life hell.”

  Sky leaned forward, fascinated by her grandmother’s take and her no-nonsense way of speaking. “I didn’t love him,” she shared, surprising them both. “I loved the idea of him I built in my head. He was a small-minded, self-centered biscuit, and when he insisted I give up flying, so I could hang on his arm while he demeaned me, I recognized he was a toxic bomb and got out.”

  “But somehow you got the impression everyone who lived in that social strata was the same,” Brigitta said, her eyes wise.

  “I met enough of them, all insistent there was only one right way to dress, talk, act. Being seen was more important than being kind. They never gave a moment’s thought to the people who worked for them, or shared what they had with those less fortunate. But yes, I know I made a generalization, based on a small percentage, the ones Brian attracted to his side. And that probably isn’t fair to many others who are philanthropists and do respect their employees, like Adam and his father.”

  Brigitta rotated her glass. “There’s a but coming, I can tell.”

 
“But, I promised I’d steer clear of a life that didn’t suit me, but rather damaged me. And I think that’s a fair response to a painful lesson. It’s clear, to me, you live in that world, as do Adam and Patrick.”

  “So, you have no intention of letting me get closer. Adam is out of the picture, because he comes from a wealthy family?”

  “You’re judging me already. I can hear the disappointment in your voice.”

  “Not in you, Sky. In the failed opportunity. I admire you for taking a stand and will respect your feelings on this, but yes, I’m disappointed. I had my heart set on having you in my life, a granddaughter to love, who would maybe one day love me.” She sighed and rose from the chair. “I’d better get going. I have to make San Francisco before dark. I lost my instrument license a year ago.”

  “You could stay overnight. It would be safer than crossing the mountains this late in the day. There are a lot of updrafts when the air cools.”

  Max walked in as Sky finished talking. She almost bit her tongue in half trying to stop the words coming out of her mouth, but they just kept flowing like water down a hill.

  “There are several five-star hotels in Tahoe. I’d be happy to book you a room and drive you in,” he added.

  Brigitta studied Sky’s stunned expression for a few seconds. Her brows drew together as she thought. “Maybe I’ll do that. Is it possible the two of you might join me for supper?”

  Sky opened her mouth, refusal coating her tongue. Pops glared at her from under his heavy brows. Oh, what the heck, she thought. I never heard about my father from Adam; this is the perfect opportunity. She nodded and stood, pushing in her chair and taking a great interest in clearing Brigitta’s glass from the table.

  Brigitta was smart. She got out while she was ahead. “I’ll take you up on that ride, then Max, and shall we say dinner at seven. I’ll book a table.” She walked past Sky, her hand rising as if to touch her. Then she let it fall to her side and moved on; her light footsteps sounded on the stairs.