Slow Burn - a Novel: The Elite (2 page)

I waved. “No worries. Can I get a medium house blend? Costa Rican, right?”

The girl nodded. I gave a smug smile of congratulations to myself, for identifying the blend only by scent.

Then quickly reminded myself that I needed to get a life outside the walls of
The Siren
.

Moments later, coffee in hand, I wandered across the aisle and lowered myself into a vinyl chair. The minutes ticked by and I started getting antsy once a burst of people started walking by, luggage and rolling suitcases in tow. I stood up from my seat and popped up onto my tippy-toes, straining to see through the crowd. No sign of Alesha. Knowing our dad, he would have put her in first class, and as the crowd thinned, my heart rate spiked.
Where is she?

I fired off a couple of text messages, trying to keep from sounding like a paranoid lunatic. Maybe she’d just gone to the restroom. Alesha was a full on girly-girl who compulsively checked her hairstyle, makeup, and took more selfies in a day than anyone should be allowed to take in a lifetime. It wasn’t far-fetched that she had found a mirror in which to primp. I rolled my eyes at the idea and checked my phone.

Nothing.

I tapped my finger impatiently against the glass screen, trying to resist the urge to dial her number. I’d give her five more minutes before going full on bossy big sister.

Those five minutes evaporated and then another five after that.

“That’s it…” I hissed under my breath. I dialed her number and listened to it ring all the way through to her voicemail system.
Dammit, Alesha, where are you?

My hands were tied. I could call my dad but there wasn’t much he’d be able to do to help me either. He was likely at his office, back to work, considering his part done, he’d put her on the plane. Nope, I shook my head. I was on my own.

After another searching glance in a three sixty spin, I went to the customer service desk for the airline she flew in on.

There were a few people ahead of me in line, but things moved quickly, and within a few minutes I was standing in front of a polished woman in a dark blue pantsuit. I collapsed against the counter. “Hi, this is probably a strange request but I was wondering if there was any way you could track and make sure that a passenger was on a flight?”

The agent behind the counter raised an eyebrow, probably wondering if I was some kind of psychopath stalker. I was fairly used to this reaction. My pink hair and nose piercing were usually what got people a little guarded. I’d recently gone from having a bleached out pixie cut to long, blonde waves, thanks to the help of some pretty killer extensions. In the process of getting the hairpieces put in, I spotted a gorgeous hair model in one of the hair style brochures, and insisted that some of my newly added locks be dyed a faint pink and put in as highlights against the bleached blonde strands. The result was gorgeous and made me feel like a punk rock princess. Sadly, not everyone was a fan. And watching the woman’s expression across from me, I had the feeling she was not.

I leaned in and gave her a friendly smile. “See, the thing is, my baby sister is flying in today. Here’s her flight information,” I flipped my phone around to show her the displayed information. “I’ve been waiting and she hasn’t gotten off the plane yet. She is a little bit of a wild card, and I’m afraid that maybe she didn’t make it on the plane to begin with.”

The customer service agents alternated her cool glance from the phone in my hand to my pink hair and then back again. “I can run a search.”

“Thank you so much.” I found it helpful to be as polished and professional as possible—especially when dealing with people who had already assigned me some kind of label based on my appearance.

Moments later, the agent confirmed that Alesha had indeed been on the plane. I wasn’t sure if this was good news or bad news. At my conflicted expression, the agent offered a suggestion, “I can’t let you past the security checkpoints to look for her, but if you’d like I can make an announcement over the PA system to have her report to the customer service desk.”

I wanted to leap over the counter and hug her. “That would be amazing!”

After the announcement went out across the airport, I stepped aside to let the next person in line take my place at the counter. I kept my eyes trained on the gates where Alesha should have been coming from and waited. Half a minute later, I spotted her making a beeline for the customer service desk. It had only been nine months since I put her on a plane, back to Phoenix, after her previous summer’s stay. But her appearance had changed quite dramatically in that span of time. Last summer her honey blonde hair had been waist length, free flowing and wild. Now, it was chopped off, up to her jawline in an angular bob that was flat-iron straight. Her sense of fashion had taken a dramatic turn as well. What had been ripped jeans and crop top tanks were now replaced by sharp black cigarette pants, a fitted top, and a three-quarter length black blazer that matched the pants.

I didn’t have too much time to psychoanalyze the sudden change because my eye went from her to the middle aged man that had an arm draped over her shoulders.

“Fuck.” I stiffened and crossed my arms tightly. I needed to brace myself for whatever bullshit was about to happen.

When Alesha spotted me at the counter, her steps noticeably slowed, and the man attached to her whispered something in her ear, a look of concern on his face.

I marched the ten paces to close the gap. “Where the hell have you been? Your plane landed almost an hour ago,” I demanded, shifting my angry narrowed eyes from her to her companion. “And who the hell are you?”

The man untangled himself from Alesha and extended a hand in my direction. I ignored it and his smarmy smile drooped. “You must be Carly. My name is Jake Fisher. Alesha and I met on the plane.” He glanced adoringly at Alesha. How was it that in a three-hour flight she’d managed to sucker this man into thinking there was some kind of relationship potential?

“Charming.” I uncrossed my arms and instead planted my fists on my hips.

“She mentioned you’d be here to pick her up.” He smiled like he still didn’t have a clue that I was
not
in a good mood.

He shifted his smile to Alesha, who was somewhere between amused and panicked as she stared at me. Jake continued, “We’d love for you to come out with us. There’s a little cantina up the road from here. Best margarita you’ll ever have. I told Alesha that she just has to try it.”

If I hadn’t been so furious, I might’ve laughed at his total obliviousness.

I smiled sweetly at him. “Well, unless you’re planning on meeting up in another three years, I’m afraid those margaritas will have to wait. I don’t know what my sister has told you, Jake, but she’s seventeen years old. So, I’d suggest you move along and go have that margarita, alone.”

Alesha narrowed her eyes at me and gave a haughty sigh. Her game was officially over. Beside her, Jake leaped away from her as though she’d suddenly lit on fire, his expression shifting in a colorful array from obliviousness to confusion to sheer horror. He took one more long look at Alesha, darted his gaze back to me, mumbled something about it all being a big misunderstanding, and took off in the opposite direction so fast that the wheels of his rolling suitcase lifted off the ground and slapped into the back of his ankles. I heard him grunt at the impact but he didn’t slow down or stop.

With one problem out of the way, I reached forward and pinched my fingers around Alesha’s bony upper arm. “Alesha Marie Roberts, consider this your official warning. Pull one more trick and you’re going to find yourself with a one-way ticket to New Hampshire.”

She wrinkled her nose at me. “New Hampshire?”

“Yeah, Dad and I decided that sending you on a three-month vacation to Greece wasn’t exactly a fit punishment. So instead, we decided that if you can’t behave yourself here with me—under my roof—you’ll be going to spend the rest of the summer with Grandma in New Hampshire.”

Alisha’s bottom lip protruded in a pout that I’m sure could’ve worked on a variety of suckers. Unfortunately for her—I wasn’t one of them.

“So get it together, or the highlight of your summer will be Friday night Scrabble tournaments where the most exotic thing on the menu is green Jell-O.”

She sucked her lip back in, obviously realizing that it wasn’t working, and jerked her arm out of my grip. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come stay with you.”

“Because I make rules?”

Alesha crossed her arms. “Because you always have a huge stick up your ass. All I want to do is have a little fun! It’s Summer! But no! My stuck up prissy do-gooder sister hasn’t pulled the stick out, yet!”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t you fucking start with me or I’ll put your ass back on that plane and call it a day.”

“See? Hard ass!”

“It’s called being an adult, Leash. You should try it some time. Daddy isn’t going to always be there to soften the blow when you mess up your life.”

She set her lips in a defiant purse and glared at me. “You mean like when he bought you a restaurant just so you could have a job somewhere?”

I was done playing games. “Come on. We need to get your luggage and then get out of here. I have to get back to work.”

Alesha muttered something under her breath as I tugged on her arm, dragging her towards the baggage claim. I did my best to block out her pitiful grumbling, knowing that whatever she was complaining about wasn’t my problem. It was my job to keep her safe and out of trouble. It wasn’t my concern whether she liked me or not.

Which was fine with me since I didn’t think I’d be winning any Sister of the Year awards anytime soon.

Nick

It had started out as a quick, one tank trip outta town. A drive to the coast, look around, and go home and get back to work. But two weeks later, I was standing in an empty apartment, looking at the peeling paint on the walls and the cracks in the ceiling, and smiling to myself because that day trip had turned into the opportunity of a lifetime and I was finally busting out of the shit hole.

I dropped the key and the spare on the counter with my final rent payment, let myself out of the apartment one last time, and went down to my truck that was weighted down by cardboard boxes that contained everything I owned.

“Adams? Hey, man, wait up!”

I turned at the familiar voice and offered a smile to Sgt. Parker Lane as he jogged across the street to where my raised F-350 was parked. “Hey Lane. You hittin’ it early today?” I jerked my chin from the doorway he’d just stepped out of. Bud’s Taproom. “Not even three o’clock yet.”

Parker shrugged. We both knew there was nothing else to do in Fallon. It was a work until it’s time to drink, and then sleep until it’s time to work kind of place.

“I didn’t know you were leaving town,” he said, his eyes roving over the heaped pile of boxes in the bed of the truck. Everything was roped down and secure but it still looked like a road hazard.

“Yeah. New job out on the coast.” I pocketed my hands in the back of my worn jeans.

“Damn.” Parker shook his head. “Sad to see you go, man. First you’re out of the unit, now this?”

“It’s time to move on,” I shrugged. “I can’t stay here and tend bar forever. There’s nothing in this town unless your active duty and I’m not and have no intention of changing that.”

“I hear ya.” He nodded, but his understanding could only go so far. Parker was a lifer. He came from military stock and wouldn’t be looking for an exit anytime soon. “There a girl involved?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Nah. Just the job. I’ll be working for Aaron Rosen, he’s ex-Navy. Good guy. His pops opened an air museum out there and he took it over after his old man passed on.”

“Why not work at the Air Park? Same thing. Right?”

I’d tried to finagle my way into the Fallon Air Park. “They don’t want me. They don’t think I’m qualified or some bullshit like that.”

Parked nodded sagely. “Well good luck, man. Don’t be a stranger. Next time you’re in town, give me a call, I’ll buy ya a round.”

“I will, man.” I clapped him on the shoulder and he turned to jog back across the street to the bar. Before he slipped inside the banged up metal door, he looked back and gave me a parting salute. I returned it with a grin and he went into the tavern.

There were few things I’d miss about my life in Fallon. It had never felt like home. And I sure as hell wouldn’t miss my cheap ass apartment with its busted appliances, pest control issues, and noisy neighbors. But Parker was a good buddy. I’d miss him.

I hopped up into the cab of my truck, fired it up, and pulled away, putting Fallon and the memories I’d made there in the rear view mirror.

I wasn’t going back.

* * * *

“There’s an employee lounge. I keep coffee and shit in there, but it’s bare bones. If you want something specific, tell Lana. She’ll make sure we get it stocked. At the end of the hall is my office. I don’t keep normal hours, but if I’m in there and you need to talk, come on in. I don’t mind.” Aaron Rosen, the owner of the Rosen Air Museum, and my new boss, turned back at the conclusion of his tour and gave me an appraising glance. “Questions?”

“Nope.” The museum was medium sized, and while Aaron had managed to pack an impressive amount of planes and displays into the place, it was a pretty straight forward layout and wasn’t difficult to navigate. “I think I’m good. Ready to get my hands dirty.”

Aaron laughed and clapped my shoulder. “I like your attitude. Trust me, there’ll be plenty of time for that. But first, we’re having a staff meeting in about an hour and I gotta go pick up the food. You wanna come with? I’ll show you around town on the way.”

“Sure.” His offer surprised me. I’d have figured he’d want me to get right to work as we’d spent the better part of the last two hours touring the museum, offices, hangar, and shooting the shit. All of which was on the clock. But hey, it was on his dime. Who was I to argue?

Aaron led the way back through the museum and out the side door that led to a small offshoot of the main parking lot. There were a few vehicles parked there, and Aaron led the way to an old Army Jeep that had clearly been restored. “Sweet ride,” I commented, slipping into the passenger seat.