“What don’t you like about the job?”
He winced. It didn’t last more than a second. “Nothing. I love to fly. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than in the cockpit.”
“What about when you’re not in the cockpit?”
“I’ve got another job offer. Flying a private jet. Loads more money. By a wide margin. A chance to fly to places I’ve never been. No more debriefings and being sent to war zones. And the plane, damn, it’s a G650, which is the finest jet on the market. Tony Wagner, the guy that’s offering me the job, is worried I won’t want to leave the fighter jets. He really wants me to work for him, so...”
“How did you know him?”
John focused on his food but as he did so, the tips of his ears got a little pink. “I sort of saved his life.”
“Sort of?”
“Nothing all that spectacular. One night he was coming out of Caesar’s Palace at the same time I was. I didn’t know him at all, but we were kind of crowded together by all the tourists. He was pushed onto Las Vegas Boulevard and a car was heading straight for him. I pulled him out of harm’s way. Anyone would have done the same, but he was very grateful and we ended up having a drink together.”
“I doubt just anyone could have saved him. Your reflexes, your strength. I’m sure he was awfully grateful...” She looked around his empty nest. “So it’s the money that’s making you think twice about leaving the air force? The perks?”
He shook his head. “Those would be nice, but I’m doing fine moneywise. I’ve invested well, and except for ridiculous cars, I don’t spend a lot.”
“You just want to be a civilian?” The way his brows furrowed, as if she’d said something crazy, made her curious. Surely, with the decision having to be made so soon, he’d thought this through. Growing up the way he had, becoming a civilian at this point would be a major deal. “Wow, I guess being in the bubble has its merits, but in the end, you’re still in a bubble.”
“What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “Being a fighter pilot and all. You live in a rarified atmosphere even when you’re not in the air. It’s glamorous and dangerous and very, very alpha. Flying as a private pilot is a whole different kettle of fish, but maybe that’s the challenge you’re looking for.”
“It’s not—” He stood up, walked away from the table. From her. The set of his shoulders, the way he paced, he looked agitated, and she wanted to call back her words, even though she wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong.
“I do live a charmed life. I know that. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. I have no business even thinking about leaving the air force. Christ. My friends Danny and Sam would kill to be in my shoes.”
He stopped at the window, stared straight ahead.
Cassie ate quietly, watching him. Wondering what was really going on. She was tempted to say something but afraid to interrupt his thoughts. It took a long time for him to turn back to the room.
“We met in college, went through basic together and all the requirements necessary to be allowed to fly the fast movers. The three of us wanted to make it so badly we’d have done anything. Anything. And we did. We all made it through some of the hardest training in the world, and we had our wings and our jets, and it was the best. You can’t even...”
“What happened?” She’d lowered her voice, kept it neutral.
“Sam got laser eye surgery so he wouldn’t have to wear contacts anymore, but it went wrong. They can’t correct his left eye to flight standards. That’s it. He’s out of the jets. Now he’s going to train drone pilots.”
“That’s got to be horrible for him.”
“You have no idea.”
“And Danny?”
The answer didn’t come quickly. “Dead. In a stupid accident. Not his fault. He was a great pilot. Full of potential. Had life by the balls. A freak mechanical problem and he was gone. Just like that.”
“Oh, God, John. I’m so sorry.”
“And here I am, feeling discontent.”
Cassie’s breath caught at the disgust she heard in his voice. “But...you’re grieving. For your friends. For the dreams you all shared. Of course you’re questioning your life.”
* * *
JOHN STARED AT CASSIE, resisting the urge to discount the facile pop psychology she’d spouted. He knew she meant well. But she was steeped in her