Page 25 of Hating the Boss

One I wrestled with until the next morning when Trent called me bright and early to invite me to an airfield in Long Island. I had my driver pick me up and take me on the nearly two-hour drive, while I typed out emails in the backseat. I had already texted Sarah and she was on her way to meet me at the airfield, probably just as confused as I was, but she didn’t ask questions. Neither did I. Trent Page was an interesting character. I had learned to just roll with him.

When my driver parked at the airfield, Trent was getting suited up in a gray jumpsuit and goggles. When he spotted me, he waved his arms excitedly.

What the actual hell?

“You ever been?” he shouted, pointing to the sky as the airplane whirred to life.

“In a plane?” I raised my brows.

He laughed out loud. “Skydiving!”

My stomach sank. I had never been skydiving, nor had I ever planned to. It wasn’t a bucket list item for me, like it was for others. I liked my feet on the ground, unless I was in a private jet with a bucket of champagne. I swallowed hard, realizing that Trent brought me out here to join him on his adventure. Being who I was, I was willing to do anything to get this guy to sign with us for another quarter.

Chapter 11 Sarah

The cab pulled up to the airfield, after what felt like a five-hour ride as my anticipation to see Brad grew with every mile marker to New Jersey. What he could possibly need from me way out here was beyond me, but the text I received from him when I arrived at the office was insistent.

Again, I had shown up this morning, disappointed to find him not at his desk. Not anywhere. I was beginning to wonder if he actually showed his face in the office. Wondering if the new dresses I had bought were worth the mind-boggling price tags. I had still yet to break out the sapphire number that I had imagined him slipping his hand under. Instead, I chose a black skirt suit with a high back slit and a matching sleeveless blouse. Considering how this day was going, I chose correctly.

I stepped out of the cab, my heels wobbly against the tarmac, and spotted Brad talking to another man. They were both suited up in gray jumpsuits and seemed to be excited about whatever they were talking about over the loud hum of a nearby plane.

I walked over to him, more confused than ever, as my hair blew around me, whipping me in the face.

“Brad!” I called out, keeping a safe distance from the plane. I waved my arms over my head, catching his attention. The man he was talking to climbed into the plane and disappeared inside.

Brad jogged over with a nervous smile, one I hadn’t seen before. Of course, his hair looked even better after being tousled by the plane’s rotors.

“You made it!” he said loudly, as the nearby plane began rolling down the runway. I watched after it, noting the name on the side.

Skydive Sussex.

“Did I have a choice?” I asked with a raised brow. “What are we doing here?” I spread my arms out toward the planes around me.

“So, this client…Trent Page. He’s a little eccentric.” Brad twirled his fingers around his ears and crossed his eyes slightly. I bit back a laugh.

“Okayyy…” I said hesitantly. “What does that have to do with you? Or me? Or being in New Jersey?”

“He’s asked us to skydive with him.”

The blood rushed from my face. I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. Maybe he was joking.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Right. Totally.” My voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I’m serious,” said Brad, his lips pressing together as his eyes searched mine.

“Absolutely fucking not,” I said, crossing my arms.

There was no way I was going up in that plane, let alone jumping out of it. I was terrified of heights. The elevator ride up to the top floor of Stellar Industries was something I was still getting used to.

Brad chuckled at my passionate response. He reached his hands out and gently grabbed my arms, his touch getting the attention of all my nerve endings.

“I need you,” he said, his eyes pleading. Around us, it had grown quiet with the absence of the plane, which was now probably thousands of feet above us. “He wants to have the meeting up there.” He pointed up to the clear blue sky.

“What the hell is wrong with this guy?” I asked loudly.

“This is just how Trent Page operates. He likes doing these sorts of trust exercises. He says it’s good for partnerships, and I need him to continue being a client with us.”

“This goes beyond a trust exercise!” I exclaimed, looking up at the sky and trying to spot the plane.