“I haven’t exactly been in the most smiling kind of moods,” she said with a false laugh. “Because of our little interaction a couple days ago, I might just lose my job.”
He stood there, his smile slowly dropping. For just the briefest of moments, she was shocked to see that he might actually feel the tiniest bit bad. She wasn’t sure how that made her feel. It was too much and it messed with her opinion of him.
She didn’t like it.
“I don’t know what to say. I . . . I’m sorry,” he said, looking at a loss.
“Don’t try to be sympathetic, Captain Armstrong. It’s not your style,” she said. Then she squared her shoulders again and got back to business. “I’m sorry, you said you wanted your usual? Was that with four shots?”
“Yes, doll. Glad you remembered.”
She gritted her teeth, but she kept on making the drink and then handed it to him.
“Look, Stormy . . .” he began when an announcement came over the intercom.
“Captain Armstrong, please report to Gate A6. Captain Armstrong, A6.”
He sighed as he looked at her. He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, and then he closed it again before giving her a look she couldn’t quite interpret.
“I have to run,” he finally said. He grabbed his coffee and took off as if the plane would start itself and leave without him if he didn’t get there immediately.
Stormy was left hanging at the coffee counter without the slightest clue of what Captain Armstrong had been about to say. As she shook the confusion away, Stormy’s eyes caught Amy’s, and it became apparent that Amy had been observing the awkward transaction between the two of them while stealthily peering from the back room.
Stormy just shrugged her shoulders as if to say, What can I do?
At least he hadn’t been nearly as rude as he’d been during their last interaction. However, it was becoming increasingly insulting that he still had no clue who she was.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Trans Pacific Flight 232 had just arrived at the gate after a six-hour domestic flight from John F. Kennedy Airport to Sea-Tac. The jetliner happened to be running a bit behind schedule, and Cooper’s co-pilot had the gate agent page him.
Captain Armstrong concluded that his life was always moving at Mach 10 as he sprinted through the terminal, having to adjust his hat from time to time to keep it on his head. It was a good thing that Cooper felt an intense need for speed at all times.
It was why he still flew the jets. He didn’t have to, was constantly told not to since he was the CEO of the airline. Though his actual role wasn’t something that too many people who worked for him knew about.
He’d learned his lesson that night six years before when his father had passed. He didn’t want to be the man flashing wads of cash and expensive toys when so many in the world struggled. Besides, by flashing so much money around, he seemed to attract the piranhas, who then only annoyed the hell out of him.
Now, that didn’t mean he didn’t like his possessions. He liked them plenty. It just meant that he tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy once in a while. And flying gave him both satisfaction and the rush he looked forward to every time he was responsible for a plane full of passengers.
Their lives were in his hands. It didn’t get more thrilling than being at thirty-five thousand feet in the sky while going five hundred knots per hour.
Cooper almost plowed over a family pushing a double-wide stroller and decided he needed to get out of his own head before he crushed someone or tripped over a laptop cord. He wouldn’t be flying anywhere with broken bones.
He wasn’t even late. Dang copilots and their panic. Oh well. It was probably wise that he’d left the coffee place when he did.
Although Cooper could pilot some of the world’s largest and most sophisticated airliners, he still couldn’t comprehend the sometimes unfathomable complexities of a woman’s mind. He said what he wanted and that usually tended to be enough.
And in Stormy’s case, she seemed so familiar to him. He didn’t know what it was, but he was drawn to her. Maybe it was because she was stunning. And it probably had something to do with the fact that she actually had a witty intellect, something most of the attractive women he dated didn’t have a clue about. He was getting real bored with airheaded bimbos, not that he’d admit that out loud.
For some unknown reason, Cooper was determined to show Stormy he was a good guy the next time he saw her. She had to be thinking he was a real asshole by this point, which he somewhat deserved.
He’d pushed about every button he could to see her fiery temper come to the forefront. She looked that much more stunning with her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing fire, so he couldn’t seem to help himself.
As he approached his departure gate, he continued pondering Stormy. He just couldn’t seem to comprehend how she was so oblivious to his charm. He knew he was a bit arrogant, but when women were constantly falling at his feet, it was a bit tough not to be. He’d never before had to take so much time to work a girl.
Okay, seeing her twice might not seem like a lot of time to the average person, but normally it took him a total of five minutes to entice a lady. He smiled distractedly, stopping a passing traveler in her tracks. He didn’t even notice. This was just the typical response he got from the opposite sex.
Cooper figured Stormy had to either be younger than he thought she was or just a prude. It was impossible to not like him. The thought was absurd.