“Oomph,” escaped him when she stomped on his foot. “Okay,” he muttered, “you can fight it.”
She made a scramble for the door, then stopped short. Aw, hell.
“Just remembered what brought you here in the first place, huh?” he asked, sounding amused. “Who is it, Bill again?”
She put her hand to the door. “Damn it. Yeah.”
Turning to face him, she slid down until she could sit on the floor. “Why are you here?”
He sat next to her, companionably taking her hand in his as they prepared to wait. “I’ve told you. I want to know what happened to the Beechcraft and my father’s money.”
“No, I mean here. In the hangar. Why are you here?”
His gaze slid to the boxes of old paperwork, and suddenly, she knew. “You’ve been snooping.”
He shrugged. “A bit.”
“Find anything?”
Another shrug of a broad shoulder.
She closed her eyes. “What’s going to happen, Bo?”
“I’m going to talk to Sally, and if she can pay me back, she can have her deed and I’ll be out of here ASAP. If by some miracle she has the plane, I’ll be ecstatic. Either way, little’ll change for you.”
Her stomach tightened, though she wasn’t sure whether that was because she couldn’t produce Sally, or because he’d said he’d be out of here ASAP. “We’ve got to have that staff meeting. Tell them.”
He looked at her with shocking gentleness. “If you’re ready.”
It didn’t escape her that this wasn’t a power trip for him, he truly didn’t care when and if people knew he was holding the deed, and more than her stomach quivered now-her heart as well. “You ever wake up and think, How did I screw up so badly?” she whispered.
A half-smile tugged at his mouth. “All the time, mate. All the time.”
They had the staff meeting at the café, where they’d been having their meetings once a month for years. But in all that time, Mel had never felt as nervous as she did now. Palms damp, stomach jangling, she looked around at everyone sitting at the table with her, surrounded by the sunshine-yellow walls, by Al’s pics, the tempting scent of fresh cookies on the tray in front of her. “Thanks for staying a few minutes late.”
Ritchie looked at his watch. “Is this going to take long? I’ve got a hot date.”
“Yeah, with his own fist,” Kellan murmured beneath his breath, making Al crack up and Ritchie punch him in the arm. Danny separated them with a shove.
Ernest wasn’t paying any attention, he was entering some notes in his spider book. Char was fussing with the cookies, adding more to the tray.
Dimi met Mel’s gaze, drew a deep breath of her own, then put her hand over Char’s. “Please,” she said softly. “Mel needs your attention.”
Mel drew a deep breath of her own and carefully didn’t glance at Bo, standing just at her right. He’d been quiet, solemn, surprisingly free of quick wit and sarcasm, even going so far as to ask her if she was okay.
She wasn’t.
But that wasn’t his responsibility. “I have some things to clear up,” she said. “And it might seem confusing and unnerving, but I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to make it all okay.” Another deep breath. “Bo…”-she hitched a shoulder in his direction-“isn’t my ex.”
All eyes swiveled to Bo.
“Huh,” Ernest said.
Al scratched his head. “Makes sense.”
Because, naturally, in the real world, Mel wouldn’t be able to get a guy like Bo. Great ego boost…
Ritchie looked at Bo. “Does this mean you don’t hum when you…you know.”
Bo shook his head.
Char spoke a little breathlessly. “And you don’t have a teeny, tiny-”
Again Bo shook his head.
“He’s Eddie Black’s son,” Mel said. “The man Sally fell in love with and went to Australia for ten years ago.”
Dimi clasped her fingers and stared down at them as her knuckles went white. Danny shifted closer to her and touched her arm, but she shook her head.
Ritchie and Kellan hadn’t been around long enough to know Sally, but she’d been spoken about in such detail they thought of her as a legend. Eddie was definitely the bad guy in their eyes, and their mouths fell open as they stared at Bo.
“Why are you here?” Al asked him.
“I’m getting to that.” Mel looked at each of them, the people she’d come to care about and love, as if they were her own blood. “He’s here because Sally deeded Eddie the airport before he died. Bo is holding that deed.”
Everyone let out a collective gasp.
“If that’s true,” Al said, “what took ya so long to come here and claim your spoils?”
“The deed has been in my father’s things all this time,” Bo answered. “But because I was in the military, I just recently found it.”
“You’re Eddie’s beneficiary, then?” Ernest asked.
“Yes.”
“What about your mother?”
Bo’s mouth was grim, his eyes shadowed as they had been that one other time Mel had heard him discussing his mother.
“She’s out of the picture,” Bo said.
Silence followed this as everyone digested the meaning of what they’d been told. Mel watched Bo, aware of something in his voice, a carefully banked emotion. He didn’t give anything away, though, nor did he say what a disappointment all this had been, or what he’d expected to find: the Blacks’s life savings, not to mention an extremely valuable-both monetarily and emotionally-1944 Beechcraft.
Dimi was watching him, too, and Mel knew she was shocked that he hadn’t revealed Sally as a possible thief and con.
“How do you know the deed’s legit?” Ernest asked.
“I checked,” Mel said.
“So you’re, like, our boss now?” Ritchie asked.
“Look, I don’t know exactly what will happen,” Bo told them. “But for now, yes, I hold the deed, and everyone’s job stays the same. No one’s getting sacked.”
“For now,” Dimi said faintly, and covered her mouth.
Danny wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Is Mel still manager?”
Bo looked at Mel. “If she wants to be.”
Mel looked at him right back. No, she couldn’t just pretend everything was the same. “For now,” she said, eyes locked on his, “that might be more of a coposition.”
Everyone fell quiet again, a very strained quiet that spoke volumes of everyone’s worry about Mel’s job.
“Hey, costatus is good enough for me,” she told them, trying to lighten the mood. “I can fly more.”
Bo’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised at her unexpected support.
“Maybe we could all get raises,” Ernest said slyly.
Bo smiled just as slyly. “Help me increase business, and you got it.”
“Increased business sounds good,” Al said, obviously trying to help smooth the transition. He squeezed Char’s shoulders. “Hon?”
“I’m up for that, too.” She lifted the tray of cookies. “Why are there still cookies?”
Everyone dove in and began talking, but the tension remained, and Mel’s cookie stuck in her throat.
After the meeting, everyone went their separate ways. Dimi tucked away her latest novel, removing it from beneath her keyboard to her bottom desk drawer. Then she turned off the computer. They’d had more customers today than in a long time, and it had been a good receivables day.
Thanks to Bo.
She gritted her teeth as she headed into the airport bathroom, but fact was fact: Bo might now be ruler of her world, and he was also good for business.
Not that it mattered, her safe, cozy, happy little world was done for.
How long would he keep her?
Her stomach dropped as she stared at herself in the mirror. God. She needed a drink, she was shaking for a damn drink.
Ernest stepped out of one of the bathroom stalls, scaring her into a gasp. “All yours,” he said, pulling along his cleaning cart.
Dimi glanced in the stall. “You left the seat up.”
Ernest craned his scrawny neck and looked back over his shoulder. “So?”