be with you as soon as I can. Keep Luke close.”
“Yes, I will.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Bye.” She hangs up.
“Everything okay?” Ros asks.
I shake my head. “No. Ana’s dad has had an accident.”
“Oh no…”
“He’s in OHSU hospital in Portland. She’s heading there now. I have to make a quick call.” I speed-dial my mother, and by some miracle Grace answers her cell.
“Christian, darling. How lovely to hear from you.”
“Mom, Ana’s dad has been in an accident.”
“Oh no, poor Ray. Is he okay? Where is he?”
“OHSU.”
“Is it serious?”
“I don’t know. Ana’s on her way down there. Unfortunately, I have a meeting here that I need to take before I can join her.”
“I see. A friend from Yale works there. I’ll make some calls.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ve got to go.”
I call Andrea, hoping that she’s back at her desk.
“Mr. Grey.”
“Ana’s dad has been in an accident. I’ll need Stephan to fly with me to Portland in Charlie Tango after my meeting. Can you ask Beighley to fly the Gulfstream to Savannah? We’ll need to find a second pilot to go with her. And liaise with Taylor—I need him to come with me.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.” I hang up. Ros is gathering her papers from her desk. “You’ll have to entertain the Hwangs after this meeting. Take them to lunch. I have a table booked at the Four Seasons. I’ll have to join Ana.”
“Of course. I’ll ask Marco to join me.”
“We’d better head up.”
Ryan drives Taylor and me to the helipad in downtown Seattle. It was Andrea’s idea that we leave from here, rather than Boeing Field, to save time. The meeting with the Hwangs has been a huge success. I’ve acquired a shipyard, and the settlement we’ve reached appears to be satisfactory to all parties, but I’ve left Ros and Marco to iron out the details. Ros and I have an invitation to visit the shipyard next week, but right now I need to support my wife and find out about my father-in-law’s condition.
As Ryan parks the Audi outside the building, I’m reminded of the last time I used this helipad—to take Ana to José’s exhibition in Portland. All part of my campaign to win her back.
I allow myself a brief moment of triumph.
I succeeded.
She’s now my wife.
Who would have thought, Grey?
Taylor and I make our way to the elevator, which whisks us up to the rooftop helipad. The doors slide open and there she is: Charlie Tango.
My pride and joy restored to her former glory.
I left her burnt out and abandoned in a clearing in a wild and desolate corner of Gifford National Forest. Now she has two new engines, and after a thorough cleanup at Eurocopter, she stands tall and proud, gleaming like new in the early afternoon sun. It’s a joy to see her. Stephan climbs out of the cockpit, beaming, as we walk toward him. “She’s handling just like she used to, and she’s looking good, too,” he says by way of a greeting.
“I can’t wait to take her up.” In spite of my anxiety about Ana, I can barely contain my excitement to be at Charlie Tango’s controls again.
“Thought you’d say that.” With a grin, he holds the pilot’s door open, then takes the seat beside me while Taylor hops into the back. Once I’ve buckled up, I don my headphones and run through my preflight checks.
“Have I forgotten anything?” I ask Stephan.
“No, sir. Well remembered.”
I check the rotor rpm then radio the tower.
“Okay, guys. You ready?”
“Copy,” Taylor says over his headset, and Stephan gives me a thumbs-up. Gently, I ease back the collective, and Charlie Tango rises like a phoenix into the Seattle sunshine. It’s a rush and a relief, knowing I’ll be with my wife in just over an hour.
The flight to Oregon is a welcome diversion from my worries about Ana and her dad. Charlie Tango is as responsive, smooth, and elegant as she’s always been. She lands with her usual grace on the Portland helipad.
“You’ll keep her warm?” I ask Stephan.
“With pleasure, sir.” He’s agreed to stand by for further instructions, as I don’t know when, or if, we’ll be heading home today.
Outside the building, there’s a Suburban waiting for us. The rental agent hands the keys to Taylor, and we set off for the hospital. While he drives, I fish out my phone to contact Ana, but there’s a missed call and voice mail from my mother. I call Grace, rather than listen to her message, but she doesn’t pick up.