Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Ashley
I stood in Riva’s tiny bathroom, fussing with my uniform in the mirror.
The navy blazer fit snug, and I smoothed the skirt down, pinning my shiny new badge to the lapel.
My first flight was today, a quick hop to Dallas and back, and my stomach was a mess of nerves.
Riva pounded on the door, her voice cutting through.
“Move it, Ash! We’re gonna be late for the airport.
You’re not posing for a photo shoot, just pouring drinks. ”
“Hold on,” I said, grabbing my bag and stepping out. She was already decked out in her uniform, hair yanked back in a neat bun, sipping coffee from a travel mug. “How are you so perky right now?”
“Experience,” she said, shoving a mug into my hands. “Drink this. You’ll thank me later. First days are a grind.”
I took a gulp, the heat jolting me awake as we headed out the door.
The drive to the airport was fast, the sky still dim with that early morning haze.
We pulled into the employee lot, and I trailed Riva through the staff entrance, flashing my ID at the security guy who barely glanced up.
The terminal was alive, carts whizzing by, voices overlapping with gate announcements.
My red nails caught the light as I gripped my bag, a little boost from yesterday’s mall trip.
“Stay close,” Riva said, weaving through the crowd toward the crew lounge. “We’ll check in, grab the manifest, then hit the gate. Simple stuff.”
“Right,” I said, keeping pace. The lounge was a cramped room with lockers lining the walls, a coffee machine humming in the corner, and a handful of flight attendants chatting over clipboards. Riva waved at a guy by the vending machine, then dragged me to a table where a stack of papers waited.
“Here’s the deal,” she said, flipping through the manifest. “Dallas, two hours up, two back. Short and sweet. And check this, our pilot’s Darryl Meyer.”
“Who’s he?” I asked, leaning over to peek at the page.
She grinned, dropping her voice. “Grumpy pilot. Been flying forever. Total pain if he’s in a mood, which is always.”
“Awesome,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Sounds like a blast.”
“He’s famous around here,” she said, nodding toward a woman by the lockers. “Ask Kelly. She flew with him last month and lived to tell.”
“Kelly!” Riva called, waving her over. “Tell Ashley about Darryl.”
Kelly wandered up, adjusting her scarf. “Darryl Meyer? Yeah, he’s a grump. Solid pilot, though. Knows the plane inside out. Just don’t bug him unless he starts it. I knocked on the cockpit door too hard once, and he chewed me out about ‘disturbing his focus.’”
“Too hard?” I said, laughing. “What’s he got, bat ears?”
“Guess so,” Kelly said, shrugging. “He’s picky. Likes everything just so. You’ll figure him out.”
“Great,” I said, glancing at Riva. “My first day, and I get the grouch.”
“You’ll live,” Riva said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Come on, gate’s this way.”
We trekked down the concourse, dodging passengers hauling suitcases and kids dragging stuffed animals.
The gate was already hopping, the plane parked outside, a sleek jet with the airline logo splashed across the tail.
Riva checked us in with the gate agent, a guy named Tom who was buried in his computer.
“Morning, Riva,” he said, not looking up. “New girl with you?”
“Yep,” she said, elbowing me. “Ashley’s first flight. Don’t scare her off.”
“I’m a teddy bear,” Tom said, sliding us the paperwork. “Darryl’s onboard already. Word is, he’s cranky today.”
“Big surprise,” Riva said, tucking the papers away. “Thanks, Tom.”
We climbed aboard, stepping into the empty cabin. The air was cool, the seats still pristine. Riva headed for the galley, pointing me toward the overhead bins. “Check those,” she said. “People leave junk up there sometimes.”
“Got it,” I said, popping one open. A crumpled magazine and an empty water bottle tumbled out. I grabbed them, tossing them into a trash bag, and moved down the aisle. We worked fast, stocking carts and wiping surfaces, and I was starting to get the hang of it when the cockpit door banged open.
A guy stepped out, tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair graying at the edges. His pilot cap was tucked under his arm, and his face was locked in a scowl. “You two done yapping?” he said, his voice sharp and low. “We’re pushing back soon. Get it together.”
Riva didn’t flinch. “Morning, Darryl. The cabin’s almost ready. This is Ashley, the new girl.”
He flicked his eyes to me, sizing me up like I’d already messed up. “First day? Don’t screw it up.”
I bristled, caught off guard. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good,” he said, turning back to the cockpit. “Keep the galley quiet. I don’t want noise leaking through.”
He shut the door, and I spun to Riva, my jaw tight. “What was that?”
“Told you,” she said, smirking. “Grumpy pilot. That’s Darryl’s charm.”
“I hate him already,” I said, shoving the trash bag into a corner. “Who just talks to people like that?”
“Guys who think they’re God’s gift to aviation,” she said, checking the coffee maker. “He’s the captain. Just nod and keep moving.”
“Whatever,” I said, grabbing a stack of napkins to stock. “He’s a jerk.”
“Yep,” she said, laughing. “Welcome to the crew.”
Passengers started boarding, a mix of suits tapping on phones and families juggling bags.
I plastered on a smile, helping an older lady stow her carry-on and pointing a guy to his seat.
Riva worked the back, calling out directions, and we got everyone settled quickly.
Darryl’s voice came over the intercom, flat and dry. “Cabin crew, prepare for departure.”
“Real sweetheart,” I muttered, buckling into my jump seat beside Riva.
“He grows on you,” she said, snapping her belt on. “Like a rash.”
“Lovely,” I said, gripping the armrests as the plane rolled back. The engines kicked up, and we lifted off, my first takeoff rushing through me. I held my breath until we leveled out, the nerves settling into something like excitement.
The flight was smooth, two hours of handing out sodas and collecting trash. I dodged a kid’s flailing arm, passed a pillow to a guy in a suit, and kept the aisle clear. Riva shot me a grin midway through. “You’re killing it,” she said, tossing me a water bottle. “Told you you’d be fine.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking a sip. “Not as bad as I thought.”
We landed in Dallas on time, the plane taxiing to the gate with a soft jolt. I was unbuckling when Darryl stormed out of the cockpit, brushing past me. “Turn this around fast,” he said, his tone clipped. “We’re not camping here.”
“Yes, sir,” Riva said, rolling her eyes behind his back. I bit back a laugh, grabbing a broom as he marched off to bark at the ground crew.
“What’s his deal?” I said, sweeping crumbs from the aisle. “Does he hate fun?”
“Pretty much,” Riva said, wiping a tray table. “He’s good at his job, terrible with people.”
“Obviously,” I said, scrubbing a sticky spot. “I’m not bowing down just because he’s got stripes on his shoulder.”
“Don’t have to,” she said, tossing me a fresh rag. “Just do your thing. He’ll ease up eventually.”
“Not holding my breath,” I said, moving to the next row. The return flight was more of the same. Darryl holed up in the cockpit until a tarmac delay made him pop out again. “Tell the passengers to stop griping,” he said, glaring at me. “I don’t control the wind.”
“I’ll let them know,” I said, keeping my voice even. He grunted and vanished, leaving me fuming.
Back home, we touched down smoothly, and I couldn’t wait to ditch the plane. Riva caught me in the lounge, her bag slung over her shoulder. “So, first day in the books,” she said, grinning. “How’s it feel?”
“Good,” I said, unzipping my jacket. “Except for Captain Asshole.”
She cracked up, drawing a few looks. “Yeah, he’s a handful. But you rocked it. I’m proud.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“True,” she said, winking. “Food? You earned a burger.”
“Sold,” I said, following her out. Darryl was gone, probably off to growl at someone else. Fine by me. First flight done, and I’d held my own. He could keep his attitude. I wasn’t going anywhere.