Turbulent Intentions (Billionaire Aviators 1)

When he wasn’t there, she felt the smallest bit of disappointment. She was exhausted and really should want nothing more than to get to her apartment, hopefully by elevator, and then go straight to bed. But she was also sad and would love to talk to Sherman, knowing she’d surely feel better. It was late, though, and the chances of him being at the café were low.

“Are you going to just pass on by without a hello?”

Sherman’s voice startled her out of her reverie, and she looked over at the corner table, seeing him sitting there in the darkest spot, a cigar in his hand, and a smile on his lips.

“I didn’t expect you to be out this late,” she told him, moving to the warmth of the outside heater.

“You know I can’t go home too early. Then I’d fall asleep and miss my late-night show,” he told her. “Come on over here and keep me company while I smoke this cigar my buddy Joseph gave me.”

Though Stormy was exhausted, she was more than happy to do what he asked. “I’ve always loved the smell of a good cigar,” she told him.

“Yes, it’s one of my last few vices,” he said. “And the waitresses leave me alone to smoke them out here as long as no other customers complain. Now, take a load off and let me run inside and get you a soothing cup of tea.”

“You don’t need to do that,” she said, but he had already put down his cigar and was moving toward the front door.

Stormy waited a few minutes, and then Sherman was back with a tray holding a teapot, a cup, and some cream, honey, and sugar. She quickly fixed herself a cup.

“Thank you,” she said as she held the warmth between her fingers while taking calming sips of the sweet brew.

“I love the company,” he assured her. “How was your day out on the town? It seemed to be a long one,” he said.

Stormy sighed. “It hasn’t been the best couple of days. I have to be out of my apartment in two more days, still with no prospects, and I was fired from my job yesterday because of a horrible customer. I spent all day searching for a place and a new job and came up with zilch.”

“Ah, sweetie, that job was beneath you anyway,” Sherman said as he patted her leg.

“I really should have finished school. But then my dad . . .” she trailed off, not wanting to think about that horrible time in her life. Instead, she sat there finishing her cup of tea and quickly refilling it to keep warm while she doodled on the napkin in front of her, effortlessly creating a pattern of star-studded dangly earrings.

“You’re young, Stormy. You have plenty of time to figure it all out,” he told her before leaning in and checking out her design.

She folded the napkin and put it away, instantly embarrassed.

“What is that you’re trying to hide from me?” he questioned.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I waste a lot of time doodling when I should be being more productive,” she said with a laugh.

“It didn’t look like a waste of time. It looked beautiful,” Sherman said.

Her cheeks flushed at the praise, but she wanted the subject changed.

“This hasn’t been the best week and I am trying to get back on my feet, but it seems every time I start to rise, my feet are getting kicked out from under me again,” she told him.

He eyed her for a minute and then thankfully let the matter of her sketching patterns drop.

“There’s always a bright side, darling, to everything. Sometimes the journey to get to the light just takes a bit longer than at other times.”

“I love that you always look for the rainbow in the middle of the storm,” she said. “I’m already feeling like I can stand again.”

And unbelievably she was feeling better. All it had taken was sitting there and drinking tea with Sherman while he puffed on his cigar. Maybe it was a special herbal blend that was soothing her nerves. Whatever it was, she was grateful he’d been there.

“I think I might have a solution to one of your problems, Stormy,” Sherman suddenly said.

“I didn’t come here for you to try to fix things, Sherman. Just talking with you has made me feel better,” she said as she leaned over and patted his free hand.

“I know you don’t like to ask for help, but I have connections, young lady, and it would be a real insult to me if you didn’t accept what I’m offering,” he said more sternly than she’d ever heard him speak before.

“Well, I guess I can at least hear you out,” she told him.

Stormy was sure she wouldn’t be accepting whatever it was he planned on offering. She couldn’t take advantage of their friendship.

“I know of a great little two-bedroom cottage that’s sitting all empty and alone,” he said, making her heart thump. This might be something she wouldn’t mind accepting if it were affordable.

“I’m listening,” she said. What if it were truly great, though, and just outside her budget? That wouldn’t end her day on a positive note.

“It’s a beautiful place with sweeping views of Puget Sound, all the fog your heart could ever desire. The cottage sits on the property of my relative, and the house is just up the hill so you wouldn’t feel as if you were in the middle of nowhere, but you’ll also have privacy,” he said. “And it’s all yours, if you want it.”

The idea of living right on the water in a place where no neighbors were pounding against her walls was a dream she’d never imagined coming true. But as all dreams had a tendency of shattering when you opened your eyes, she was leery. There would be no way for her to afford such a wonderful place. he wasn’t there, she felt the smallest bit of disappointment. She was exhausted and really should want nothing more than to get to her apartment, hopefully by elevator, and then go straight to bed. But she was also sad and would love to talk to Sherman, knowing she’d surely feel better. It was late, though, and the chances of him being at the café were low.

“Are you going to just pass on by without a hello?”

Sherman’s voice startled her out of her reverie, and she looked over at the corner table, seeing him sitting there in the darkest spot, a cigar in his hand, and a smile on his lips.

“I didn’t expect you to be out this late,” she told him, moving to the warmth of the outside heater.

“You know I can’t go home too early. Then I’d fall asleep and miss my late-night show,” he told her. “Come on over here and keep me company while I smoke this cigar my buddy Joseph gave me.”

Though Stormy was exhausted, she was more than happy to do what he asked. “I’ve always loved the smell of a good cigar,” she told him.

“Yes, it’s one of my last few vices,” he said. “And the waitresses leave me alone to smoke them out here as long as no other customers complain. Now, take a load off and let me run inside and get you a soothing cup of tea.”

“You don’t need to do that,” she said, but he had already put down his cigar and was moving toward the front door.

Stormy waited a few minutes, and then Sherman was back with a tray holding a teapot, a cup, and some cream, honey, and sugar. She quickly fixed herself a cup.

“Thank you,” she said as she held the warmth between her fingers while taking calming sips of the sweet brew.

“I love the company,” he assured her. “How was your day out on the town? It seemed to be a long one,” he said.

Stormy sighed. “It hasn’t been the best couple of days. I have to be out of my apartment in two more days, still with no prospects, and I was fired from my job yesterday because of a horrible customer. I spent all day searching for a place and a new job and came up with zilch.”

“Ah, sweetie, that job was beneath you anyway,” Sherman said as he patted her leg.

“I really should have finished school. But then my dad . . .” she trailed off, not wanting to think about that horrible time in her life. Instead, she sat there finishing her cup of tea and quickly refilling it to keep warm while she doodled on the napkin in front of her, effortlessly creating a pattern of star-studded dangly earrings.

“You’re young, Stormy. You have plenty of time to figure it all out,” he told her before leaning in and checking out her design.

She folded the napkin and put it away, instantly embarrassed.

“What is that you’re trying to hide from me?” he questioned.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I waste a lot of time doodling when I should be being more productive,” she said with a laugh.

“It didn’t look like a waste of time. It looked beautiful,” Sherman said.

Her cheeks flushed at the praise, but she wanted the subject changed.

“This hasn’t been the best week and I am trying to get back on my feet, but it seems every time I start to rise, my feet are getting kicked out from under me again,” she told him.

He eyed her for a minute and then thankfully let the matter of her sketching patterns drop.

“There’s always a bright side, darling, to everything. Sometimes the journey to get to the light just takes a bit longer than at other times.”

“I love that you always look for the rainbow in the middle of the storm,” she said. “I’m already feeling like I can stand again.”

And unbelievably she was feeling better. All it had taken was sitting there and drinking tea with Sherman while he puffed on his cigar. Maybe it was a special herbal blend that was soothing her nerves. Whatever it was, she was grateful he’d been there.

“I think I might have a solution to one of your problems, Stormy,” Sherman suddenly said.

“I didn’t come here for you to try to fix things, Sherman. Just talking with you has made me feel better,” she said as she leaned over and patted his free hand.

“I know you don’t like to ask for help, but I have connections, young lady, and it would be a real insult to me if you didn’t accept what I’m offering,” he said more sternly than she’d ever heard him speak before.

“Well, I guess I can at least hear you out,” she told him.

Stormy was sure she wouldn’t be accepting whatever it was he planned on offering. She couldn’t take advantage of their friendship.

“I know of a great little two-bedroom cottage that’s sitting all empty and alone,” he said, making her heart thump. This might be something she wouldn’t mind accepting if it were affordable.

“I’m listening,” she said. What if it were truly great, though, and just outside her budget? That wouldn’t end her day on a positive note.

“It’s a beautiful place with sweeping views of Puget Sound, all the fog your heart could ever desire. The cottage sits on the property of my relative, and the house is just up the hill so you wouldn’t feel as if you were in the middle of nowhere, but you’ll also have privacy,” he said. “And it’s all yours, if you want it.”

The idea of living right on the water in a place where no neighbors were pounding against her walls was a dream she’d never imagined coming true. But as all dreams had a tendency of shattering when you opened your eyes, she was leery. There would be no way for her to afford such a wonderful place.