Pink Slips and Glass Slippers (32 page)

Brooke shuddered, “I don’t even know who your boss is, I would never—”

“So you’re denying you registered a complaint—”

“Why would I do that? Now that you mention it, I should have—after you waved the
pink slip
in my face.”

“I still sleep with it and since you’re acting this way, I may never return it to you.”

Brooke’s eyes widened. “What did you just say?”

“The sexy pink slip you left in our room. I’ve been trying to—”

“Oh…my…God…”

“You know it still has your fragrance…”

Brooke’s jaw dropped as it registered.

Chase said, “I can’t believe you never signed the new severance package…”

Package?
Brooke said, “Hold on!”

Brooke said, “The only severance package I got was a lousy two weeks…”

“Duh, that’s what I’m talking about. I almost got fired over the new, much bigger package we offered and I wrote you that letter...”

Bigger package?
Brooke laughed out loud.

Chase frowned, then said, “I’m glad you think it’s funny that I almost lost my job.”

“You’re either the world’s greatest con artist or…”

“Con artist, geez thanks. Or what?” Chase crossed his arms across his puffed out chest.

“So, when you called me the second time…when you said you had a big package for me…” Brooke giggled. “You were talking about—”

Their eyes locked as it hit them and they burst into laughter.

“Just so you know, Chase, I never received any note from you—or voicemail. And the only severance from Pharm-my-ass was two lousy weeks.”

Chase eyed her with slight disbelief. She sounded genuine, as if she actually believed what she said. “C’mon, you’re saying you missed the big manila envelope with my hand-written note AND my voicemail?”

Brooke hesitated, glanced to the left, then said, “Well, I probably tossed it if it had your little company logo on it and I honestly didn’t get that voicemail…”

“Or, you erased it.”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not crazy. Answer me one question: how can you say you didn’t have me fired? The timing was a little suspect.” Brooke inhaled his fragrance—as if for the first time.

“Henry Stoddard’s turned from friend to foe. I had lunch with him and he mentioned the company was looking to outsource your division. I fought with him and he led me to believe it wasn’t a done deal. Then, I played golf Friday afternoon—the day before you and I…Well, Henry decided to ignore what I said. He weaseled a quick meeting with Greenberg without me and they decided to undo everything I built. I took off Sunday and Monday to take Parker fishing and then the beach.”

“Fishing? Did you go shark fishing?”

“How did you know?”

Brooke’s pulse froze and her head spun. “Oh my God. You’re not kidding, are you?”

“No, we went shark—”

“Not that…You must think I’m coo coo.”

“That would be an understatement. Look, I know you think our magical night together was a mistake but…”

“Shhhhhh,” Brooke placed her finger on Chase’s lips. He raised one brow and still looked good to Brooke. She said, “I…I’m such an idiot!”

***

The dye took longer than she had hoped—no thanks to Rusty’s “medicine chest”—but Parker’s new hairdo would work. And, he looked so different in the new clothes.

Rusty said, “Now, you’re stylin just like me.”

Parker sloshed across the nasty carpet to the dimly lit motel room mirror and laughed. “I look funny. Can I be this for Halloween?”

Heather smiled, “Sure, honey, anything you want.”

“I’m hungry. Can we go to Chuck E. Cheese now?”

Rusty snorted, saying, “Little guy’s got the munchies—me too.”

Heather rubbed his spiked hair, and said, “Sorry, there aren’t any nearby, sweetie.”

Rusty said, “Eat those chips I bought ya, kid. Or else, give ‘em to me—I’ll eat ‘em. Friggin spoiled—”

“Rusty, shut up. He doesn’t have to eat those if he doesn’t want to.”

Parker’s eyes widened—he’d never heard big people talk like this.

“Isn’t it time the little guy went to bed, so me and momma can party?” Rusty slapped Heather’s backside.

Heather glared at Rusty, then faced Parker, “Honey, you should get to bed.”

Parker eyed the twin beds, “Where’s my PJs?”

“Just sleep in your clothes tonight. We’ll get you some tomorrow. Now, just go to bed, okay, mommy’s tired.” Rusty lurched in behind her and gripped her like a backpack. She giggled, Parker frowned.

Parker said, “Don’t I have to brush my teeth first?”

“No, remind me tomorrow to get you a tooth brush. Now, please just go to bed.”

Parker trudged over to the bed like a condemned prisoner enroute to the gallows. He pulled the bedspread back, then crawled in slowly. He said, “Are we going to say my special prayers?”

“Huh?”

“Daddy always says my special prayers and stays with me until I fall asleep.”

Rusty sneered, then said, “There is no God kid—”

“Shut up Rusty—you’re stoned—and you’re scaring the poor kid,” Heather rubbed her eyes, then squinted at Parker, “Why don’t you say your prayers tonight, okay, I’ve got a real bad headache.” Rusty snickered, then wheezed.

Parker’s lip trembled, “Can I call daddy?”

“Your daddy’s working and doesn’t want us to bother him. Now, go to bed.”

Parker pulled the covers tightly under his chin, and forced his eyes shut. Heather and Rusty flipped off the light, then went outside, carrying their bag.

***

Though the Q & A war paused into a cease fire, battles remained. Brooke still had major questions—like the wife issue. And, who was the young chick he waltzed into the hotel with? Though he seemed sincere, she was skeptical, unable to double-check his answers. After all, his best friend was called “dawg.”
I wish I could hook him to a lie detector
.

Chase still doubted Brooke’s denial of blowing the whistle to Henry. He remembered
All the President’s Men,
and snickered. He had taken extra care to tell no one—including Dixon. That left only one person. But, she seemed definitive.
I wish I could hook her to a lie detector.

They ascended into a sky darkened by night’s unseen clouds. With a storm forecast, Chase wondered if they’d make it to Orlando. They lost valuable time and fuel arguing, but it beat crashing due to their fight erupting in the air.

“So, what is the plan?” Brooke decided to shelve her most pressing questions.

“I know they’re heading to Disney, and I’m hoping by car. If my information is correct, they’ll have Minnesota plates.”

“How do you know that?”

Chase paused, then said, “I hired a private investigator to follow my wife.”

“Wife? You told me you weren’t married.” So much for the shelving.

Chase fidgeted, “I, uh, I’m getting a divorce.”

“That’s what they all say…”

“My situation is complicated.”

“They all are…Why’d you wear a wedding band?”

“Look, I know you wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.”

“Try me.”

Chase tugged at his collar, “Oh hell, alright, what I’m about to say is highly confidential. It stays in this cockpit, understood?”

“Who would I possibly tell?”

Chase smirked, then said, “Before I go any further, I have to get something off my chest.” Brooke raised one eyebrow and froze. Chase said, “I didn’t tell anyone about us. I don’t understand how my boss knew…”

“Oh God, we’re back to that one again?” She continued, “First of all, I don’t even know your boss, never met the man. How could I possibly…You can’t possibly think I’d do that?”

“What about Greenberg? Did you tell him?”

“Let me say this clearly: I…Told…Nobody.” Brooke’s stomach twinged as Melissa popped in her head. She couldn’t contradict herself now.
Melissa would never…

Chase stared at Brooke and neither one flinched. Brooke marveled at his flying prowess, able to hold a stare down, yet keep the plane steady. Is there anything this man can’t do?

Brooke broke the awkward silence, saying, “You’re going to have to trust me. I didn’t tell Henry or anyone at Pharmical. I’m here to help find Parker.” She braced herself for the qualifier.

Chase inhaled deeply, then said, “Oh hell, alright. Here goes…I married Heather five years ago. She said she wanted children and would relinquish her modeling career when she became pregnant. Then, the day she got pregnant, it all unraveled. She couldn’t handle it. She hated being a mother and resented me. I had achieved my goal of CEO, and didn’t spend enough time…Then, postpartum depression hit. I saw the signs and got her to reluctantly see a team of medical doctors and psychiatrists. They loaded her up with anti-depressants and you-name-it pain killers. She became addicted. And crashed. She tried to kill herself…” Chase’s voice cracked.

Brooke’s eyes blurred, “Oh, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me any more if this is hard. Just fly.”

Chase wiped his eyes, “I tried to do what I could, I really did.”

Brooke placed her hand on top of his, “I’m so sorry.”

Deep breath, “I found her that day just in time. She swallowed enough pills to kill an elephant, the ER doctors told me…They found everything in her system—including
Stabilitas
. I panicked. Not only was she sick, but with my position at Pharmical, the press would kill my career and pressure the FDA to abolish a drug that’s already helped millions of people. I felt lost for the first time in my life...”

“So, why still wear the ring?”

“With our board of Bible toters, are you kidding me? I had to be the happily married, stable CEO—two and a half kids, picket fence, doting wife—but it tore me apart.”

“How come it never hit the papers?”

“I managed to call in some favors with some select friends. Believe it or not, Dixie-dawg’s not my only friend. They kept it out of the media. Then, quietly, I sent her to the top rehab program in the world in—”

“Hazelden?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Long story, plus you said Minnesota. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Keep going.”

“I cut a check for over sixty grand; Heather gave it all of one week, and bolted. She abandoned me, her son, and the life she said she wanted. I hired a private eye out of New York and he found her in some crack house living with some creep named Rusty.”

“How does she afford to live?”

“She emptied a couple of my bank accounts and has plenty of cash. The house she lived in couldn’t have cost much. Supposedly, they’re wanted for drugs and a bunch of other things. I tried to serve her divorce papers at that Minneapolis house, but she and Rusty fled.”

“What did your private eye say?”

“I haven’t been able to reach him. I think he’s ticked off at me for trying to serve Heather without telling him, as if I wanted her to take off.”

“I…I don’t know what to say…Now, I understand why you can’t go to the police.”

“We have to find Parker and somehow stop her.”

“What does Heather look like?”

“I wish I had a picture of her—I removed them from my wallet a long time ago. The hotel managers all asked for her photo too. How would I describe Heather? It’s hard to be objective after all that’s happened,” Chase inhaled, then exhaled slowly, “Heather’s attractive. Blonde, blue eyes, well built, about 5’8”, 120 lbs.”

After an awkward pause, Chase said, “Actually, you’re prettier.” Ordinarily, Brooke accepted flattery with an easy southern smile. Desperately needing a shower since playing mechanic, she couldn’t even fathom a compliment. She ignored, then asked, “Age?”

“Twenty seven.”

Hmmm, he sure likes ‘em young. I wonder if his nooner at the mall goes to high school. What was he doing with me? I’m like her mother’s age.

Brooke glanced over her shoulder, “Do you have a bathroom?”

“A small one. I’m afraid I barely fit, but you will.”

Brooke smirked, unhooked, then with her head bowed, ambled along the narrow path that led to the back. The mirror was big enough to make her wince at her reflection. Gripping her purse, she dumped its contents into the salad-bowl-sized sink. Applying what makeup she had, with the plane’s erratic lunges, she felt like a plastic surgeon on a roller coaster. She finished, then glanced into the hazy mirror, and couldn’t help thinking,
I’m prettier than her…I bet.!

Returning to the cockpit, she noticed his stare as she wiggled back into her seat. He said, “Are you okay?”

“Why, don’t I look okay?”

“You look great—it’s just that you were in the bathroom for…You’re not airsick?”

“Oh no, I just needed to freshen up. You’re an amazing pilot. How long have you had your license?”

“About ten years. It started out as a hobby—you know, the thrill of the ride—but, the more I flew, the more I enjoyed it. Do you have any hobbies?”

Thrill of the ride
held her spellbound for a moment. “I love riding horses. I had one as a little girl. It’s funny you asked—I actually just rode one last week. It had been so long, but it brought back a ton of memories,” Brooke hummed while glancing to her right, then smiled, “I guess I enjoy the thrill of the ride too.”

For the first time, they settled in as a warmth pulsed inside. Their grievances were replaced by compassion, a common purpose to find Parker. Chase slipped on his headphones, and started conversing in airplane lingo. Brooke hoped it was an air traffic control tower, but it sounded foreign—except for the
low on fuel
comment. Lightning flashed up ahead against the darkened sky and she quietly prayed for a safe landing.

Chase struggled to lower the plane, and as rain pelted the windshield. Straight lines of lights appeared below. She wanted to ask if he could land, but decided to grip her seatbelt and try not to distract him. She eyed him and remembered those hands. With his lashes focused on landing, she hoped he didn’t catch her staring.

Brooke’s first bird’s eye landing was both exhilarating and terrifying. Chase looked like a seasoned pro. As the tires skidded on the wet pavement, she held it together and said, “Well done, captain.”