It was Thursday morning inside Corrie’s bedroom. Brett and Corrie were asleep in her bed. The alarm blared from the bedside table next to Brett. It was 7:00 a.m.
Brett reached over and turned the alarm off.
Corrie stirred in bed. Brett leaned over and kissed her forehead. Her eyes opened.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
Corrie stretched a little and gave Brett a loving smile. “Hey, handsome. What time is it?”
“Seven,” he replied, glancing at the alarm.
“I can’t believe I slept in today. I’m normally up by six,” she replied, sat up and stretched.
“You know how it goes when you stay up late playing,” he said with a satisfying smile.
Corrie leaned over and kissed Brett on his lips.
“Let’s get ready. We have another fun-filled day ahead of us.”
Brett smiled.
They got out of bed and walked naked into her bathroom.
Dorian was still asleep in Brett’s hotel room. The camera instruction book fell out of her hands and landed on the floor. She rolled over and smashed the box for the camera.
Her garage door opened outside Corrie’s house, and Brett’s Fairmont backed out. Corrie was in the passenger seat. Her garage door closed.
He drove his Fairmont off down the Street.
Later at Corrie’s Flight Service, Brett cranked up the Warrior and taxied off.
Ten minutes later, Brett’s Warrior took off on runway 14.
Back at Brett’s room in the Residence Inn, Dorian’s asleep on the bed.
She woke up and looked at the clock on the bedside table. The digital numbers stated it was 8:30 am.
A sound at the door. She heard the sound of someone putting a key in the door. “Brett!” she said, sitting up in bed. Her fists were clenched.
A maid entered the room.
“I’m sorry. I’ll come back later,” the maid said the second she noticed Dorian in the bed.
The maid turned around and walked to the door.
“Excuse me. Have you seen the man that has this room?” Dorian called out.
The maid turned around. “No, Ma’am,” she replied. The maid closed the door and left. Dorian beat the mattress with her fists.
She got off the bed and stormed into the bathroom.
High up in the sky over Columbus twenty minutes later, Brett performed a slow flight in the Warrior.
Brett performed a power-off stall in the Warrior.
Brett banked and flew back to the airport. Inside Brett’s office in the Alliance administration building, Dorian entered and noticed it was just as she had left it yesterday. “That bastard’s not showing up for work!” she cursed.
She stormed out of the office.
Dorian stormed through the office area. Howard walked out of the employee break room with a cup of coffee and noticed Dorian. “Excuse me. May I help you?” he called out. Dorian turned around. “I’m Dorian Woods.
I’m looking for my husband, Brett,” she barked. Howard looked stunned. “Ah, to be honest, we haven’t seen much of him around the plant. I figured he might be working out of his hotel room.”
Dorian glared at Howard. It made him nervous. She turned around and walked away.
“I’m not going to get involved with that woman,” he shivered while walking to his office.
Thirty minutes later, Dorian pulled her LTD into the parking lot at Corrie’s Flying Service.
Dorian spotted Brett’s Fairmont parked next to Corrie’s Jeep from the inside of her car.
“The bastard is flying at this moment,” she yelled. She turned off her engine.
She opened up her car door and stepped out of her car. “Daddy did say to get some passionate proof,” she said, then got back inside her LTD.
Dorian removed her from her purse and closed the door, then waited.
Ten minutes later, Brett taxied the Warrior to the flightline.
From inside her car, Dorian watched Brett shut down the Warrior. The door opened, and Corrie got out of the Warrior.
Dorian watched Corrie walk to her building. “Why does she look so familiar? I know I’ve seen her before!” Dorian said, straining to get a better view of her.
Corrie walked out of her view. Dorian aimed her sights at Brett, who got out of the Warrior and tied it down.
She watched Brett strut off to the building and waited.
Fifteen minutes later, on the flightline, Brett walked with Corrie with his flight bag in hand.
They walked to his Fairmont and put his flight bag inside the trunk.
“So, are you heading back to Fort Wayne tomorrow?” Corrie asked.
“I was, but I’m thinking I’m going to call Sidney tomorrow afternoon and tell him I’ll be there Monday morning,” he replied.
“You’re going to piss him off,” she said.
“I don’t care anymore,” he responded. “Be cause I just want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he added.
Corrie kissed Brett.
Dorian sat in her car. “That son-a-bitch! That son-a-bitch!” she cursed with flared nostrils. Her eyes widened in shock. “That’s Corrie Matherson from college! I can’t believe that bitch is with Brett!” she cried, beating her steering wheel. Her eyes widened. She grabbed her camera and snapped a picture.
She watched Brett open the passenger door for Corrie. She got inside the Fairmont.
“They’ve probably been corresponding since college!” she added, snapping a picture of Brett and Corrie with her new camera.
She watched Brett and Corrie drive off in his Fairmont to the other end of the parking lot.
She cranked up her LTD and followed the Fairmont out of the lot.
Later that morning, Brett drove his Fairmont into the parking lot of a Bob Evans Restaurant.
He parked his car in the first available slot.
Dorian drove her LTD into the parking lot and parked safely from Brett’s Fairmont.
Dorian snapped a picture of Brett escorting Corrie into the restaurant.
She set the camera down in the passenger seat and waited. Arms crossed, red-faced.
Inside Bob Evans Restaurant, the young hostess seated Brett and Corrie in a booth and set two menus in front of them.
Another young girl approached their table. The hostess walked away to her station.
“My name is Cindy, and I’ll be your waitress. May I take your drink order?” the young girl asked.
“Coffee,” Brett replied.
“Same here,” Corrie added.
The waitress walked away. Brett’s eyes widened. “I forgot that I should be hearing from Sky King soon,” he said. He turned on his cell phone. After it was on, he had numerous messages. He navigated through his cell phone, glancing at the listing of messages.
“Messages from Dorian. I’m not going to answer them,” he said and deleted them. His eyes widened with joy. “I got a message from Sky King,” he said, smiling.
“Brett, this is Manfred from Sky King Aviation. I tried calling your cell phone, but it’s not available, so I also left a message here and in your hotel room. Tony and I are prepared to offer you a position with our company, starting with a salary of seventy-five thousand dollars. We would like you to start in two weeks. Please call me back if you find this offer acceptable. Thank you,” Manfred’s message stated.
“Sky King gave me an offer,” Brett cried out in joy, then immediately punched in Manfred’s phone number.
“Manfred. This is Brett Woods. I apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I haven’t had my cell phone turned on since I started flying and have been away from my hotel room. Anyway, I heard your offer, and I accept. It would be a pleasure to work for Sky King,” Brett said into his cell phone.
The waitress brought two cups of coffee and set them on the table. “Are you ready to order?” the waitress asked.
“I’ll have the French Toast special,” said Corrie.
Brett covered the mouthpiece of his cell phone. “Same here,” he told the waitress.
The waitress walked away.
“Great! We’ll be happy to have you aboard, Brett. Can you start in two weeks?” Manfred asked from Brett’s cell phone.
“Yes, sir. But I might have to make a trip back up to Fort Wayne to finalize my divorce,” Brett replied into his cell phone.
“We can work around it. So I guess I’ll see you in two weeks. Call me if you need anything,” Manfred said.
“Sounds great,” Brett disconnected his call and did a little victory dance in his seat.
“Life is looking grand,” he said to Corrie, smiling. He picked up his coffee and took a sip.
Brett noticed one remaining message he wanted to hear.
“Brett, it’s Bruce. Carl fired me today. Go figure. I knew it must have been Sidney’s orders to put me on the streets. Stay in touch, buddy,” Bruce’s message stated.
Brett shoved his cell phone into his pocket. “Dorian’s father fired my best friend at work,” Brett told Corrie.
“He sounds like Dorian,” she replied.
“Yep, like father like daughter,” Brett replied.
Brett and Corrie chuckled.
The waitress brought their French Toast breakfast.
Dorian’s stomach growled. She looked at Bob Evans. “I can’t eat there,” she said. She glanced around and noticed a Wendy’s across the Street.
She got out of her LTD and headed to Wendy’s.
Dorian got back inside her LTD fifteen minutes later with a Wendy’s bag in hand.
Dorian opened up the bag and removed a cup of coffee and an Artisan Egg Sandwich. She sipped her coffee and munched on her egg sandwich, surveilling the front entrance to Bob Evans.
Inside Bob Evans, Brett and Corrie ate their breakfast; omelet for Brett and French toast for Corrie.
“You’ll be welcome to stay at my house until you find a place to live,” Corrie offered. She munched on a piece of toast.
“Hopefully, I’ll be able to stay a lot longer,” Brett replied with a smile.
“I hope so,” Corrie replied with a return smile. She polished off the rest of her coffee.
Brett smiled while finishing his omelet. Corrie finished up her French toast.
Ten minutes later, inside Dorian’s LTD, Dorian drank the rest of her coffee and dumped the cup into the Wendy’s bag. She grabbed her camera and waited.
A few minutes later, Brett and Corrie walked out of the restaurant. Dorian noticed them and immediately snapped another picture. She snapped another picture of Brett opening up the Fairmont passenger door for Corrie. She got inside. He closed the door and got behind the wheel.
Dorian watched Brett back his Fairmont out of the parking slot. She cranked her LTD and followed Brett’s Fairmont out of the parking lot.
Fifteen minutes later, Brett drove down 2nd Street.
Corrie shook with a chill, and Brett noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“I suddenly got a strange, spooky chill,” she replied.
“Want me to turn the heat turned on?”
“No, I’m okay.
Brett smiled, reached over, held Corrie’s hand, and smiled.
Traffic was thick on the Street.
Dorian drove her LTD three car lengths behind Brett’s car. Another car quickly changed lanes and moved over inches in front of Dorian’s car. She panicked and slammed on her brakes. Her tires screeched, and the car behind her smashed into the rear of her vehicle. Dorian’s head slammed into her steering wheel.
She looked out in her rearview mirror and saw another car smacked into the rear of her LTD.
Dorian looked out the front windshield and observed Brett Fairmont driving off down the Street. It’s lost in the traffic.
“I don’t believe it!” she yelled out and banged her steering wheel with her fist.
A man appeared at her door window and tapped on it, and she jumped up, startled.
“You all right, miss?” the man asked outside her window.
Blood ran down Dorian’s forehead from smacking into her steering wheel. She looked at the man outside her window with fire in her eyes. “Do I look all right, asshole!” she screamed at the man.
The man’s eyes widened, and he ran back to his car.
Dorian stomped on the gas pedal, screeching her LTD down 2nd Street. “Screw a police report,” she said, craning her neck to locate Brett’s Fairmont.
Later that morning, inside Dorian’s LTD at the parking lot of Corrie’s Flying Service, she saw Brett’s Fairmont parked next to Corrie’s Jeep.
Off to the flight line, she noticed Brett and Corrie walking toward the Warrior. They held hands. Dorian snapped a picture with her camera. “I’m so going to burn this bastard. She won’t want him after I make him penniless,” Dorian said. She laughed an evil laugh.
Dorian waited inside her car, with a perfect view of the flight line and the runways.
She watched Brett and Corrie perform the pre-flight inspection.
Fifteen minutes later, Dorian watched the Warrior taxi away from her car.
Five minutes later, from her car, Dorian watched the Warrior take off on runway 5.
Her cell phone rang. “Dorian,” she answered the call.
“Hey baby, how’s it going down there?” Sidney asked from her cell phone.
“He went flying, then they went out to breakfast, and now he’s back flying,” she replied into her cell phone.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I terminated Bruce Cooper just like you wanted,” he told her.
“Good. I hated that bum,” Dorian replied.
“Make sure you get some great incriminating pictures for the divorce,” he said.
“I’m working on it,” Dorian replied, pausing. “Bye, Daddy,” she added and disconnected her end of the call.
Dorian dropped her cell phone into her purse and waited, her arms crossed.
High up in the sky above the south of Columbus, Brett practiced S-turns over Interstate 65.
Brett practiced slow flight.
Brett practiced steep bank turns.
Brett flew the Warrior back to the Columbus airport.