He certainly had a talent for faking genuine interest while pumping her for information. “My father’s charter plane company.”
“Is he running it while you’re gone?”
She flinched as the unintentional arrow sank deep into her chest. Would the pain ever stop? “No. He recently…died. My uncle is acting as general manager.”
“My condolences.” Cool words devoid of emotion.
“What is it you do exactly, Mr.—Gage?” Not that she cared, but she’d rather talk about him than herself and risk inadvertently revealing something she shouldn’t. If word got out that her father might have committed suicide, then Falcon Air would lose business. Their clients would not be inclined to hire a company that flew faulty planes—or worse, engage a pilot who might take a deliberate header into the Everglades with them on board. And finances were iffy enough already.
“I’m a business consultant. I assess companies and make recommendations for improvements, specifically targeting ways to make them financially secure by eliminating waste and increasing productivity.”
“You do that internationally?”
“Yes. Did you decide to search for your birth mother after your father’s death?”
She stifled her frustration as he volleyed the topic back to her. “No. She came to me.”
“You must have been surprised to meet her.”
“Meet her? I don’t know what Trent told you, but I’ve known Jacqui all my life. I wasn’t aware my father’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was my mother until my eighteenth birthday when she and my father decided to share the information. I didn’t know Jacqui was married until after my father’s funeral when she told me my father wanted me to meet my sib—her other children.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ve known Jacqueline for years?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of mother was she? A generous one, I’ll bet.”
More innuendo. She rolled her eyes and then scanned the sky for traffic. She’d had a load of the same attitude from all but one of her half siblings. They seemed to think she was looking for handouts and a free ride, but what she wanted was something Jacqui could give her without putting a dent in the Hightower heirs’ inheritance.
“I just told you Jacqui wasn’t a mother at all. And no, she didn’t shower me with expensive gifts. My father wouldn’t have allowed it. Nor would I have accepted them.”
The disbelief written all over his face ticked her off. One, because this stranger had judged and assumed the worst of her, and two, because Trent had probably filled Gage’s ears with lies. It was one thing for her half brother to resent her and hate her guts, but it was low and crass of him to spread his poison professionally. She knew he had. Otherwise, the other HAMC employees wouldn’t give her the cold shoulder.
“Jacqueline wanted you to join Hightower Aviation?”
“This is a temporary gig. Jacqui knows I’m going back to Falcon in a few months.”
“Why a few months?”
“Why twenty questions?” she countered.
“I’m curious. Most people wouldn’t willingly walk away from the level of luxury associated with the Hightower name.”
“I’m not most people, Mr. Faulkner, and I’m not a Hightower. If we’re going to work together, you’d better get used to that. And if Trent put you up to this interrogation, then please tell him he’ll have to come to me himself for answers.”
Not that she’d ever reveal the full truth behind her presence in Knoxville. Her reasons for being here were no one’s business but hers, and she’d be damned if she’d feed Gage Faulkner anything he could carry back to Trent to be used against her. If she did, it could destroy Falcon Air, and then she’d have nothing to return home to.
Gage’s gut told him Lauren was hiding something, and his gut was never wrong.
She’d clammed up as soon as the conversation about her mother had become interesting, and no amount of questioning, subtle or otherwise, had gotten her to open up again during the flight. But getting answers was his specialty.
He flashed the ID badge Hightower Aviation had provided for him at the security guard. The man waved him through the doors to the tarmac. “Have a good trip, sir.”
Gage nodded his thanks, exited the terminal of the small suburban airport and approached the jet. Trent had been right. Traveling via private carrier was a lot less hassle than flying a commercial airline. Faster in, faster out allowed for more time on the job and less in transit. Gage had to admit he liked the efficiency.
Tired, but satisfied with the preliminary information he’d gathered on the project he’d come to Baton Rouge to assess, he checked his watch. Because of the security check-in time savings he was an hour early. When he’d left Lauren seven hours ago she hadn’t seemed concerned at being stranded with nothing to do for the majority of the day. In fact, her eyes had sparkled and her body had practically vibrated with excitement as if she couldn’t wait to be rid of him. Not a common occurrence for him. Women—when he made time for them—enjoyed his company.
But not Lauren.
She’d given him her cell number and asked him to call when he finished his business and headed toward the airport, claiming it would allow her to prepare the plane for takeoff before he arrived. He hadn’t called. Arriving early fit in with his plan to catch her doing whatever it was she did to fill her day. Her activities might give some clue as to her intentions.
The door to the Cessna stood open and the stairs were down as if waiting for visitors on this warm October day. He climbed on board, and the plane rocked slightly under his weight. Lauren abruptly sat upright in one of the plush leather passenger seats and lowered the feet she’d had tucked under her to the floor. She had a laptop computer resting on her thighs. “You’re back.”
“Did I interrupt something?”
“No. I was just…killing time.”
But not in a relaxed way, judging by the tension around her mouth and eyes.
The setting sun streamed through the window behind her, painting coppery streaks in the slightly disheveled dark blond curtain hanging past her shoulders. Her uniform hat rested on a nearby table and her jacket draped a seat back. She hastily closed the open top button of her shirt, covering a V of pale honeyed skin.
“You were supposed to call so I could get the preflight done and get you into the air faster.”
She seemed flustered. Was she hiding something?
“My mind was on work.” Not a lie, just not the entire truth and a necessary omission if he were going to play sleuth. He stowed his briefcase in the compartment she’d shown him earlier.
Her eyes narrowed as if she didn’t believe him, and then she typed a few keys. A few seconds later her eyebrows and the corners of her lips dipped. “Jacqui says hello.”
Alarms sounded in his brain. “You were online with your mother?”
“Yes.” A flicker of irritation crossed her face. “Instant messaging.”
Lauren closed her computer, tucked it into a leather bag by her feet and rose. She twisted her hair up, clipping it into place then she snatched up her hat and set it on her head. “She remembers you from your college visits with Trent.”
Jacqueline would. The Hightower family had often included Gage on vacations—probably because Trent had told them that Gage had nowhere else to go when the dorms shut down for the holidays. He couldn’t exactly join his father because his parent was usually living in a homeless shelter or on the street. Gage had no idea where his mother had gone. The old humiliation still burned his pride.
“I wouldn’t have pegged Jacqueline as the instant messaging type.”
“You’d be wrong. She’s quite techno-savvy.”
That translated into trouble. He could physically keep the women apart, but he couldn’t prevent them from connecting via cyberspace when all of HAMC’s planes had wireless access. That was something neither he nor Trent had anticipated. The situation would require reevaluation and a new strategy.
Lauren stowed her computer case in the compartment behind the pilot’s seat and locked it down. “I refueled after we landed, but I’ll need about thirty minutes to get ready for takeoff.”
“No rush. In fact, why don’t we have dinner first?”
Lauren’s crisp, economical movements stopped abruptly with her uniform jacket half-on. Her eyes turned wary. “Dinner?”
He needed to find out exactly how tight she and her mother had become. “I passed a Brazilian steak place on the way to the airport that looked interesting.”
She licked her lips as if tempted, and his gaze involuntarily followed the sweep of her pink tongue. The muscles in his gut tightened. He dammed the reaction. Lauren might look as fresh-faced as the proverbial girl next door, but the intelligence in her eyes and her quiet confidence as she operated the multimillion dollar aircraft belied her being uncomplicated.
She finished putting on her coat and buttoned it up to her neck. “I’m more than happy to delay takeoff until after you’ve eaten. It’ll give me time to prepare for—”
“Join me, Lauren.”
She shook her head. “Fraternizing with clients is against HAMC rules.”
“I’ll call Trent and clear it.”
She blinked. Why had he never noticed her long lashes before? “Thank you, but I’ve already eaten.”
He didn’t believe her. “What did you have?”
She hesitated. “A sandwich from the airstrip cantina.”
“Then I’ll have the same. Keep me company.” At least that would keep her from hooking up with her mother again while he was out of sight.
A stubborn expression shut down her face. “No thank you, Mr. Faulkner. I’ll prepare the plane while you eat.”
He had the distinct impression she didn’t want to be alone with him. He had every intention of finding out why and what she had to hide.
The crunch of a shoe behind her in the misty, dark parking lot kicked Lauren’s adrenaline into high gear. She spun around, ready to gouge an assailant with her keys if necessary.
Trent stepped into the murky light of a lamppost and stopped two yards away when he saw her aggressive stance.
Lauren’s hammering pulse slowed, but her irritation rose. After a full day’s flying and dealing with Gage’s scrutiny, she was too tired for a backbiting confrontation. She needed to get home and call her mother and then her uncle. For five full seconds she debated ignoring her half brother, climbing into her truck and driving off. But she’d never been one to back down from a bully.
She lowered her keys. “You need better lighting in your parking area. If I were trigger-happy and had pepper spray, you’d be on your knees howling by now.”
Trent’s gaze went from her to her truck and back. “I’ll mention your concerns to security.”
Sure he would. Impatient, she tapped her toe. “Did you need something?”
“Lauren, if Gage wants to sit in the cockpit he can. If he asks you to eat dinner with him, do it. Do whatever he says.”