hotel restaurant, laughed about the difference between a meal out with the boys and alone, then rode another three hours before heading back to Virgin River. Katie had kids to pick up.
When they got to the cabins so she could pick up her SUV, he slipped an arm around her waist and treated her to a delicious kiss. Not a ten-minute kiss, but a very tempting one. And he said, “Thanks for going with me. It was a good day. See you around.”
“Um, listen… Before you leave the area… Would you…” She stopped and chewed on her lip for a second. “If you have time, you might swing by and say goodbye.”
“You bet,” he said. “But instead of saying goodbye, I think I’ll pick you up at your place day after tomorrow at about eleven, take you for a ride, maybe lunch. If you have nothing better to do.”
“I’m free,” she said.
“Good. See you then.” And he gave her a pop on the fanny.
Dylan took Katie out on the bike three times in a week, a couple of hours of riding, thirty minutes or so of kissing, a little something to eat. “Have I dated you yet?” he asked.
“You’re definitely getting closer.”
“I have to work tomorrow and the next day,” he said. “I have a couple of meetings—airport stuff. But I’ll be in touch.”
And then he seriously considered moving on. He’d been in Virgin River over two weeks. Four days later, four days away from Katie, after having spent considerable time visiting small airports all over Humboldt, Trinity and Mendocino Counties, Dylan found himself back on that memorable hilltop, looking out over the ocean. The hilltop where he’d seduced Katie, a memory so delicious he just couldn’t shake it. His bike was propped up and he leaned back, legs extended over the handlebars.
He had good cell reception so he called Lang. “What’s shakin’?” he asked.
“Same old, same old. Mostly just what we expected,” Lang said. “But there have been a couple of developments. We lost two crew members—one of the BBJ cabin crew and a pilot. Both moved on to more secure jobs, which is a gift. They probably saw the handwriting on the wall—it’s not a secret business is down. Frankly, I’m relieved we won’t have to let them go when we give up the BBJ. And we picked up a charter, but I had to bid it so low, it’s not a moneymaker.”
Dylan whistled. “What’s next?”
“I’m working on the paperwork to let go of the BBJ. The second I tell the leasing company we can’t make the payments, they’re going to be in here to pick her up. I just hope they don’t try to hold us to the full term of the lease, try to make us pay something for the months we’re defaulting on. If that happens, we might have to file for bankruptcy protection. And before you panic at the thought—it’s not the end of the world if that happens.”
“Can we hang tough through summer?” Dylan asked.
“I think so. Then we’ll have to downsize some more. If crew keeps moving out on their own, it might not be necessary to let them go.”
Terminate employees. They didn’t have that many, but it hit Dylan in the gut. He was a conscientious employer and every single one mattered to him. “I’ve talked to Jay, the producer. He has some ideas, but nothing concrete yet. He’s optimistic—I think something will come together.”
“And you’re still hanging out in Virgin River?” Lang asked.
“Same cabin at the Riordans’. I think I’ve dropped in on ten small airports in the area. This won’t surprise you—everyone is experiencing the same problems we are… At least I have an option. I hope.”
“Okay, listen. I can’t say what I’d do if someone wanted to give me a shitpot full of money just to stand in front of a camera and look pretty, but you don’t have to do it for us. You should only do it for you. Because we might have to make some painful adjustments around here, but we can keep coffee in the pot with a skeleton crew for a long time. A long time, Dylan. Just on our instrument
When they got to the cabins so she could pick up her SUV, he slipped an arm around her waist and treated her to a delicious kiss. Not a ten-minute kiss, but a very tempting one. And he said, “Thanks for going with me. It was a good day. See you around.”
“Um, listen… Before you leave the area… Would you…” She stopped and chewed on her lip for a second. “If you have time, you might swing by and say goodbye.”
“You bet,” he said. “But instead of saying goodbye, I think I’ll pick you up at your place day after tomorrow at about eleven, take you for a ride, maybe lunch. If you have nothing better to do.”
“I’m free,” she said.
“Good. See you then.” And he gave her a pop on the fanny.
Dylan took Katie out on the bike three times in a week, a couple of hours of riding, thirty minutes or so of kissing, a little something to eat. “Have I dated you yet?” he asked.
“You’re definitely getting closer.”
“I have to work tomorrow and the next day,” he said. “I have a couple of meetings—airport stuff. But I’ll be in touch.”
And then he seriously considered moving on. He’d been in Virgin River over two weeks. Four days later, four days away from Katie, after having spent considerable time visiting small airports all over Humboldt, Trinity and Mendocino Counties, Dylan found himself back on that memorable hilltop, looking out over the ocean. The hilltop where he’d seduced Katie, a memory so delicious he just couldn’t shake it. His bike was propped up and he leaned back, legs extended over the handlebars.
He had good cell reception so he called Lang. “What’s shakin’?” he asked.
“Same old, same old. Mostly just what we expected,” Lang said. “But there have been a couple of developments. We lost two crew members—one of the BBJ cabin crew and a pilot. Both moved on to more secure jobs, which is a gift. They probably saw the handwriting on the wall—it’s not a secret business is down. Frankly, I’m relieved we won’t have to let them go when we give up the BBJ. And we picked up a charter, but I had to bid it so low, it’s not a moneymaker.”
Dylan whistled. “What’s next?”
“I’m working on the paperwork to let go of the BBJ. The second I tell the leasing company we can’t make the payments, they’re going to be in here to pick her up. I just hope they don’t try to hold us to the full term of the lease, try to make us pay something for the months we’re defaulting on. If that happens, we might have to file for bankruptcy protection. And before you panic at the thought—it’s not the end of the world if that happens.”
“Can we hang tough through summer?” Dylan asked.
“I think so. Then we’ll have to downsize some more. If crew keeps moving out on their own, it might not be necessary to let them go.”
Terminate employees. They didn’t have that many, but it hit Dylan in the gut. He was a conscientious employer and every single one mattered to him. “I’ve talked to Jay, the producer. He has some ideas, but nothing concrete yet. He’s optimistic—I think something will come together.”
“And you’re still hanging out in Virgin River?” Lang asked.
“Same cabin at the Riordans’. I think I’ve dropped in on ten small airports in the area. This won’t surprise you—everyone is experiencing the same problems we are… At least I have an option. I hope.”
“Okay, listen. I can’t say what I’d do if someone wanted to give me a shitpot full of money just to stand in front of a camera and look pretty, but you don’t have to do it for us. You should only do it for you. Because we might have to make some painful adjustments around here, but we can keep coffee in the pot with a skeleton crew for a long time. A long time, Dylan. Just on our instrument
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