Chapter 3
3
JADE
“I should stay in.” I bite my lip nervously, looking down into Poppy’s crib, where she’s fast asleep.
“Stop being silly, Jade.” My mother pats my hand that’s resting on the side of the white wooden crib. “She won’t even know you’ve gone.”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay? We’re in a strange country and it’s our first night here. I wasn’t planning on going out this evening and…”
My mom chuckles. “Will you stop rambling? This is what I signed up for; being the babysitter and live-in nanny is simply wonderful, Jade. I’m here for her, and you. Traveling around the world with my two favorite girls. I wouldn’t have offered to do this if I didn’t want to, and you know that.”
I do.
When Mom saw how uneasy I was about hiring an au pair, she suggested making my life easier and she became Poppy’s au pair of sorts.
She made the choice simple for me and it was a solid yes .
So, for the next two years, which is the time I have left with the aerobatic display team, my wonderful mom, alongside Poppy, will travel with me to as many tour dates as they can.
It’s reassuring that Poppy is in safe, capable hands, especially knowing how unreliable Poppy’s father, Michael, is. He wasn’t that concerned that he wouldn’t see Poppy while we’re in Cyprus. When I handed him my yearly schedule and training plan, he said he’d see her on our return to England for a couple of days between display shows, which made me want to hit him in the nuts with a heavy blunt object. Asshole.
It’s just as well I have enough love for Poppy to launch a thousand ships because Michael doesn’t even have enough to float a rubber dinghy.
Mom and I both stare down at my sleeping daughter.
Who knew that such a tiny bundle of unplanned chaos—all giggles and red curls—could bring so much happiness into my life? And of course, I can’t forget the mountain of plastic rainbow-colored toys we seem to have accumulated, too. We needed an entire suitcase just for those alone while we’re here.
“It’s just…” I begin.
“We’ve only arrived… I know, you’ve mentioned that several times while getting ready.” She waves off my concerns, gesturing to the surrounding space. “However, she’s in safe hands with me. We are in a secure compound.” She checks the time. “It’s time to go. Your team is waiting, and you know how much they’ve missed you while you’ve been on maternity leave. It’s the first night out with them since you went back to work last month. It’ll be good fun.” My mom loosens my tightly curled fingers, peeling them away from the crib side.
“I know.” She continues. “And they love you, you love them, and you deserve a night out. ”
I turn to face her, greeted by her warm smile. “Jade.” She cups my cheek. “Go out. Laugh. Let your hair down.”
“It’s down.”
“Well, you’re all set then, aren’t you?” She waits a beat. “Your father would be so proud of you, and he would dote on Poppy.”
He would.
“She looks just like you, Jade.” Her thumb brushes my cheek.
“Let’s hope she doesn’t have my fiery temperament.” I sure gave my parents a hard time growing up, always thinking I knew best. Strong-willed and stubborn. The traits my father said he loved most about me.
“I’m hoping she gives you a run for your money.” As she smirks, my mom’s eyes crinkle around the edges, dancing with humor. “Karma. Oh, I am looking forward to watching her grow into the same fiercely independent woman you’ve become. If she does, she may even become the second female pilot to make the flying team. Or she might outshine you and become an astronaut.”
I snort. “I think she just might.”
“I’m willing to place a bet with you. But for now”—my mom grabs the tops of my shoulders, spins me around, and ushers me out of the bedroom door. I twist my neck back to steal a last glance at my sleeping cherub—“it’s time to have a few drinks, reconnect with your team, and enjoy some adult conversation.” She points, silently ordering me to get down the stairs and leave.
I submit. “Okay, okay. I get the message.” I grab the handrail and run down the marble staircase, which is not baby friendly, not even in the slightest. I need to nip out and buy safety gates after training tomorrow.
I jump down the last step and look back up at Mom. “I have to be up super early tomorrow for our first training session, so I won’t be back late.”
She stands at the top of the stairs, smiling down at me. “Just enjoy yourself. And do not watch your phone or study the choreography you’ve been working on for the last month. Save that for tomorrow, because tonight’s about having fun.”
My hand rests on my stomach. Although I am nervous about the routine I designed, it’s not nerves I feel when Mom mentions the training program and aerobatic display I’ve spent hours refining, it’s actually rumbling from hunger. I’m looking forward to a meal out, some me time, and maybe even a glass of wine… or two… Only two.
“I love you. Thank you for being here.” I blow a kiss in my mom’s direction, and she pretends to catch it. “I couldn’t do this without you.” A bone-deep calm settles within me.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I won’t wait up. Now go.” She shoos me, encouraging me again to leave. “You look beautiful. I’m sure he’ll love your dress.” She winks.
I wave back at her flippantly, now regretting telling her how handsome Gregor’s cousin, Owen, is.
“I don’t care if he likes it. He’s not my type.” Every one of my words is a lie. He was hot, like sizzling molten lava.
However, I have made bad choices in the past with men, specifically Michael, and I won’t go down that route again. Hot and handsome do not always equal nice.
I let out a sigh as I think about Poppy, who was the best thing to come out of that relationship. She was our happy accident, and it’s a sin her father can’t see that.
“I agree, handsome blond Scotsman with piercing blue eyes doesn’t sound like your type at all.” She mocks me sarcastically with my own words that I used to describe him earlier. “And look at you. You are beautiful. You look like a goddess tonight in that dress. Green really is your color.”
I look down at my new fine lace dress and flat gold sandals. At five foot eight, I don’t need heels.
“Like I said, I don’t care what he thinks.” I place my hand on my hip. “And who will be interested in a single mom with a busy career schedule and a grouchy ex, anyway? Also, I’m too old for him.” Well, I think I am. He looks much younger than me.
“You’re thirty-nine. Not dead.” She sighs. “And who wouldn’t love Poppy? She’s adorable.” Mom makes her way down the stairs.
While I was getting ready to go out earlier, I realized that Gregor’s cousin is the first man to make my heart flutter in a very long time. I can’t deny he’s mesmerizing, and I felt so drawn to him in a weird way that I couldn’t explain.
When Gregor spilled his secret about his marriage, Owen looked embarrassed, as if he didn’t want me to know. And he was blushing, which I found oddly endearing.
But I don’t need or want a man. I’m currently focusing on my career. Between my pregnancy and maternity leave, I’ve been itching to get back in the cockpit of my fast jet.
Not just a few hours here and there, like I have done for the last four weeks to get me back into the swing of things. No, I’m ready for several hours in the sky, in formation, synchronized looping and twisting through the air. I love the feeling in my stomach when I roll a plane in the sky at five hundred miles an hour. Flying simulators don’t do it justice.
That feeling was exactly how Owen made me feel earlier. My stomach danced with butterflies like I’d performed a loop the loop and barrel roll.
I continue with more reasons to justify why I should stay away from Owen. “He has way too much baggage. He dumped his future wife at the altar. Who does that?” I’m genuinely intrigued and need all the details immediately.
While fixing her hair in the wall mirror at the bottom of the stairs, Mom answers, “Someone who isn’t happy, Jade. That’s who does that . You should find out, though. I want to hear everything.”
“I can’t ask him.”
“I agree, but you can ask Gregor.” She rubs her hands together. “Get me all the juicy details.”
A low laugh hums in my chest. “Okay, Mrs. Blabbermouth, I’ll do my best.” I’m instantly hit by a wall of heat as I pull open the front door.
I love this climate, although my pale freckly skin would never appreciate the scorching temperature of August. I might turn into one giant freckle.
I inhale the orange blossom of the perimeter trees. “See you later. I need to go or I’ll miss the coach.”
“Have fun.” Mom gives me a finger wave.
I plan to.
My ribs are sore from laughing. “Wow, I’ve missed you guys.” I struggle to catch a breath as my team continues to tell me all the stupid pranks they have pulled on each other in my absence. Although hilarious, I’m relieved they leave me out of their childish nonsense.
“You all need to grow up.” My throat dry from giggling, I pick up my glass to take a sip of water.
My team disagrees with me.
Never .
Not in this decade.
Let’s not be too hasty.
In unison, they chime, except Gregor’s cousin, Owen.
He’s been sitting quietly all night at the opposite end of the dining table. Just observing, half-heartedly laughing when everyone else does, although I’m not sure he’s really listening.
He looks lost.
Every time I’ve looked his way, he’s been staring at me. Only when our eyes connect, he snaps his gaze away faster than a bolt of lightning. Is it because I’m the only woman here tonight?
I cast my eyes around the table at the talented pilots and support team I get to call my friends; my family for another two flying seasons.
I can breathe a little easier tonight knowing Cobra, my wing commander, couldn’t make it. Like flipping a coin into a wishing well, I wish for him to stay as far away from me as possible, preferably at the bottom of the well where he can’t get to me because he is forever acting inappropriately around me, and his sleazy behavior makes me feel weird. Despite him, I can’t imagine being anywhere else; I love the rest of my team and I know that I need to make the most of every minute we’re together.
I’m aware that all too soon, I will be on the move again, because once my assignment with the display team is over, I will rejoin my fast jet squadron based in the heart of England and will be back in the cockpit of what I usually fly: a Typhoon. That thought makes my stomach spin with excitement, remembering the aircraft’s power and agility. Although more and more of late, and since I’ve had Poppy, I’ve been considering a change in career, possibly something safer, like a flying instructor perhaps.
We’ll see .
Usually only a three-year fixed-term posting with the aerobatic team to give pilots a chance to experience this exhilarating position, mine was extended to accommodate my pregnancy and maternity leave which means, like everyone else, I will still do three display seasons, and I am desperate to kickstart our training.
Becoming an instructor sounds great and all, but it certainly doesn’t sound as exciting as my current role or hold the same appeal.
Shaking off any unnecessary thoughts, because I have a few years to consider my options, I remove my white cloth napkin from my lap and place it on the table. “Excuse me, I need to nip to the ladies’.” Pushing my chair back, I loop the strap of my gold cross-body bag over my head and remove myself from the table.
Our twenty-five-man table makes it sound like a full restaurant of patrons. However, now I’m on my feet, I’m aware of the emptiness of the place, realizing we are the last ones still here. Even the waiters are sitting around their own table chatting in their fast-paced mother tongue while eating their supper.
I slide my credit card across the table of the feasting waiters, wink and hold my pointer finger up to my mouth, instructing them to keep quiet about treating the guys tonight. One of them grabs the card machine and I punch in my pin, then place a hefty tip on the table. “Efharisto,” I say, thanking them.
The four white-shirted waiters smile gratefully, and chorus, “Parakalo,” thanking me and telling me You’re welcome .
When they point me in the direction of the restrooms, I use them, then wash my hands.
I stop for a moment as I catch sight of myself in the mirror. I may look confident on the outside, but inside I am equal amounts of excited and petrified .
When I returned from maternity leave four weeks ago, aside from a handful of flying hours, plus a few sessions in the flying simulators, it’s been almost eighteen months since I flew with the guys as a unified team and performed a full display sequence, because I discovered I was pregnant after our first display year came to a close.
I grasp the sides of the washbasin, feeling every heavy ounce of expectation on my shoulders. The expectation to succeed. The expectation of being the first woman to be selected to join the elite team of pilots. I suddenly feel the same pressure I did the first year I joined. Only this time, the weight feels heavier with the expectation of being a mom while making this extraordinary job work around my daughter.
I know the Air Force has done everything in their power to make it work for me, and I couldn’t do it without their support, but making it a success, that’s all on me.
Having to pinch myself when I made the team, every minute of every display was a dream come true, and once I had proved myself as a capable pilot who could lead a team, my ultimate dream came true when they made me Red 1, just before I found out I was pregnant. Flying was incredible before but now I am the leader, it’s even more thrilling.
Although that’s what is causing me to feel the pressure I do. I want to succeed. I want us all to succeed.
This year, we also have a couple of new pilots. Having studied everyone’s techniques for hours, I’m praying we gel and that my choreography suits each team member.
Not only do I have my teammates’ lives in my hands, but people are watching because I am a woman. They are waiting for the ball to drop.
In a way, that sort of happened because falling pregnant after joining the aerobatic team wasn’t part of the marketing and public relationships strategy the Air Force planned to implement.
Knowing what I wanted to do with my life since I was ten years old—become a pilot within the Air Force—becoming a mom, or rather, having Poppy, was not part of my life plan, nor had I ever given a thought to starting a family.
Only here I am, approaching forty, at the height of my career, with my adorable eleven-month-old baby, trying desperately to be, do, and have it all, while masking the internal freakout I have at least several times a day.
I’ll be away for weeks at a time. Will Poppy forget me as I continue to pursue my career?
And recently I’ve started to weigh up the risky nature of my job. Something that never crossed my mind before I had Poppy.
And how will I manage a deployment away from her? Sometimes being gone for up to six months. It’s fine now while she’s a baby and can come with me, but as she gets older and has school, it won’t be as easy.
Like a piece of paper, my heart crumples in my chest as I think about leaving her for half a year. She changes daily. How will I cope with that? And will she remember who I am when I return?
I can’t imagine ever being okay with that.
I’m not now and never will be ready for that. The sad reality is that I’m more than certain, as soon as my time with the aerobatic team is up, I’ll be at the top of the deployment list and not a single ounce of me wants to be away from Poppy. I can’t leave her knowing Michael doesn’t care about her, and while my mom has offered, she is older now and should be enjoying her golden years. Not looking after a baby. My baby.
I’m so torn, my priorities have completely changed. I’ve changed .
My mommy-guilt has taken on new heights, much higher than my aerobatic plane will ever allow me to fly.
I stare at myself, hard, in the mirror, then push my shoulders back.
Breathe, Jade. You’ve got this.
I tug the zipper of my bag and locate the gift my father gave me. He said it was my good luck charm; the one that would get me selected to join the aerobatic team.
Holding the glazed white stone in the palm of my hand, I flip it over and give the bright red poppy painted on the top a rub with my fingertips.
I remember those selection days as if they were yesterday. I’ve carried this stone with me through every assessment, interview, training, and flight I’ve ever taken.
So much has happened since my father’s charmed gift worked its magic, and it’s been a whirlwind ever since.
Sailing through selection, I then relocated to the aerobatic team’s permanent base. Toward the end of the first display season, Michael and I broke up, and a few weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant. I then moved out of my single room at the Officer’s Mess and into a house in the Officer’s Quarters. Unable to fly for the rest of my pregnancy, I was reassigned to desk duties, then when my morning sickness kicked in, I could barely function or carry out simple administrative tasks, forcing me to take months off work… So yeah, whirlwind… More like a tornado.
The morning sickness, which seemed to last all day, combined with splitting up with Poppy’s father, all hit me like a bullet train; the enormity and realization suddenly slamming into me that my daughter would never get to experience the concrete love that my mom and dad provided. To this day, I still don’t understand Michael and his lack of concern or love for our daughter.
She’s the greatest thing to happen to me; and him.
I’m hoping he’ll wake up one day and realize what he’s missing out on.
When Poppy arrived safely in the world, she wasn’t kicking and screaming like I imagined. She was so calm and peaceful, barely a whimper left her little lungs as the midwife announced it was a girl. She’s still the same to this very day; such a happy, easy-going child. I have so much to be grateful for; she simply goes with the flow.
Three days after Poppy was born, the unspeakable happened and nothing could have prepared us for it: my lovely dad had a heart attack and died, leaving a massive hole in our lives.
“I’m doing this for you, Dad,” I whisper to myself and then look back in the mirror, my glassy eyes full of my sadness.
Desperate not to ruin my mascara, I grab a hand towel, dabbing the corners of my eyes to catch any tears before they fall. Dropping my lucky stone back into my bag, I straighten myself up and attempt to calm my humidity-ridden hair. Gone are the glossy locks I left the villa with.
“Pointless,” I mutter and use the elasticated hairband around my wrist to pile it on top of my head in a messy bun. “That’ll have to do.” I pull down a few strands from the front to frame my face.
I smile at my reflection. “I can do this. Failure is not an option.”
If there’s one thing I am eternally grateful for, it’s the mindfulness practices and the positive affirmations my mom taught me to do.
I close my eyes and repeat silently to myself, I can do this. I am enough. I am worthy. I am strong. I am unique. Tomorrow will be a success. I am a great mom. I can have a career and be a fantastic mom.
I fill my cheeks with air and blow it out, feeling a sense of calm wrap around me, grounding me again.
My phone rings loudly in my purse, making me jump. Pulling it out, I roll my eyes at the name on the screen, knowing what comes next.
I press the accept button. “Hey, Gregor.”
“Boss.” He pauses. “Eh, so, we are off to a club.”
“Don’t tell me. A gentleman’s one?” I smirk, already knowing the answer. No matter where we go, those men always seem to know where the nearest strip club is located.
“No.” His voice goes up a few octaves, and I know he’s lying. “We didn’t think you would want to come with us and stay out late, you know, with having Poppy and your mom here and everything.”
I exaggerate a sigh. “Tell them all that when we return to base in four weeks, I will inform their partners about their vile extracurricular activities.”
“No, you won’t,” he says cheekily.
“Yes, I will.” He knows I’m not lying. “I’m a girl’s girl. I like your partners and spouses. They deserve better than you bunch of scoundrels.”
“It’s one night. We are not scoundrels,” he argues.
I rest my phone between my shoulder and ear as I tighten the thin gold belt around my waist. “Be good.”
“We will. Stop stressing.” He chuckles as I hear the guys in the background fool around. “And thank you for dinner. We’ll pay you back.”
“Just get to bed before midnight, go easy on the alcohol, and promise me to be exceptional in training. There’s no flying tomorrow, but I need you all to have clear heads.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gregor is always so polite. “Oh, my cousin is waiting for you. He’s called a taxi to take you both home.”
My body is instantly rigid, and I stand poker straight, holding my phone tight to my ear. “He’s not going with you?” I can’t be left alone with him. I don’t trust myself. He’s too pretty for his own good.
“No. Have you seen his face? It’s like a slapped ass. He’s miserable.”
I’ve seen his face, and it’s handsome as hell.
Square jaw, gray moonstone eyes, a body obviously sculpted by hours at the gym, tall, super tall. Yup, I didn’t just see his face. I saw every part of him.
Only he looks like he needs a hug.
Gregor interjects my thoughts. “Maybe you could cheer him up?” Snorting, he knows he’s winding me up.
“Shut up, Gregor,” I drawl as if bored with this conversation. “I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone. Especially not runaway grooms.”
“See you tomorrow, yeah? 6a.m. sharp.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Will you st?—”
Gregor interrupts me when he laughs. “Oh, I know, we’re not at work. No use of the word ma’am . See you tomorrow, Jade .”
I pinch my nose. “And so it begins.” I pretend to be annoyed when I secretly love the banter and fooling around.
“It’s great to have you back, Jade.” Gregor drops his voice. “I can’t wait to fly with you again. It’ll be an honor.”
A heavy lump forms in my throat. “Thanks, Gregor.” I barely get the words out. “Night, ma’am.” He hangs up before I can complain about him calling me that again .
Leaving the restrooms, I’m greeted by complete silence aside from the clatter of dishes from the kitchen.
On the other side of the restaurant, Owen is looking out the window across the darkened salt lake that was covered in a blanket of pale pink flamingos before the sun went down.
Alerted by my footsteps, he turns to face me. He drags his gaze down and then up my body, finally landing on my lips.
“I’m taking you home.” His Scottish voice is gruff. “The cab is waiting for us outside.”
“You should have gone with them,” I say, following him as he walks to the entrance, and every bit a gentleman, he opens the door for me.
“Not my thing,” he answers quickly, sounding honest.
I call back to the staff, wishing them a good night.
Nodding my head in thanks, I walk past Owen and I’m hit with a cocktail of his fresh dewy cologne, and the orange blossom from the surrounding trees that seem to be everywhere on this beautiful island.
No longer a light breeze, the now blustery wind catches me off guard, hiking the floaty skirt of my dress up, almost exposing me. Two things happen at once. I squeal at the unexpectedness and Owen appears directly in front of me to protect me from the worst of the strong wind.
With both hands, I reach out to grab hold of the uncooperative hem of my dress, trying to prevent an accidental pantie flash, bunching the fabric into my hand against my thigh.
I look up to find his wide, muscular frame towering over me by at least five inches.
For a split second, I swear time stands still, not caring when the strands of my hair free themselves from my bun and whip against the skin on my cheeks .
“Sorted?” he asks, capturing an unruly lock of my red hair, wrapping it around his thick pointer finger.
I nod jerkily, feeling suddenly nervous.
Dipping his head, he leans closer, inhaling deeply, then says, “You smell like?—”
“Good Girl,” I stutter, not feeling like my usual confident self.
A massive smile slowly spreads across his lips. “A good girl?” Humored, he lifts one eyebrow.
Justifying what I mean, I blurt out, “No, my perfume, it’s called Good Girl. I didn’t mean I’m a good girl, although I am because I’m not a bad girl. I can be but—” I kill my reel of rambling words, realizing what I am saying.
Just shut up, Jade.
He licks his lips before they make their way to my ear. “I quite like the thought of you being a bad girl.” I love how his Scottish accent rolls the R on the word “girl”. “Do you know you’re the most perfect woman I’ve ever seen?” His voice is low and husky, making me want to be a bad girl for him. “You’re beautiful.”
The effect of his words ripples from the skin behind my ear, down my spine.
“Are you cold?” he asks, sounding concerned.
I shake my head, mesmerized by his incredible eyes, lined by golden lashes. Barely managing a whisper, I say, “I’m okay.” Only, I’m not. My brain has gone into some sort of nuclear-powered meltdown.
We both jolt when the sound of a horn blasts from behind us.
“Time to go.” Owen unravels my hair from around his finger, accidentally brushing my flushed cheek. “Hold on to your dress, Ms. Sommers. ”
I frown. I love my first name, only in work they never call me anything other than my surname, boss or ma’am.
“Jade,” he corrects himself as if reading my mind.
“Right,” is all I can manage.
Before I do something I regret, I sidestep, weaving my body around his, and walk to the impatient cab driver.
I almost skip. My heart has a sudden cheerfulness about it as it basks with new information he just shared: I’m the most perfect woman he’s ever seen.