tactic I could think of: getting right to the point.
“How much are you looking to get for it?”
Mel eyed me curiously and gave me a bright smile. “I didn’t know you were interested in flying. Do you have a pilot’s license?”
“No, but owning a plane would be just the right motivation.”
He chuckled lightly. “I suppose it would.”
I absently toyed with the business cards sitting on the counter. “It’s something I’ve been considering for a while,” I said, “but I’ve never had the opportunity. I’d like to offer brief little expeditions to some of the less-traveled hiking and camping routes.”
“Hmph. That's a pretty good idea. Would fit quite well with your current offerings,” Mel said with an enthusiastic smile. He thought for a moment and then looked out of the window behind his store where the little airplane floated. “I’m asking sixty-five thousand for it. The interior is a little busted up; the seats are cracked and peeling and, to be quite honest, smells a hell of a lot like fish. But for someone local, I’d knock five grand off.”
I nodded, doing the math in my head. If I got clever and combined my personal assets with finances from the store, it could be done. Things would be extremely tight for while (especially if this little venture wasn’t quickly successful), but it was doable.
“Mind if I think about it a bit?” I asked, not being one to act overly eager.
“Of course. It’s been out there for almost an entire week and you’re the first person to ask about it. So take all the time you need.”
I gave him a smile and thanked him before leaving the store. When I stepped back outside, I looked out to the small blue plane, bobbing on the water. It almost seemed to be nodding to me, as if it approved my plan. I pictured the Pine Way logo on the side and beamed.
This could really work… how hard can it be to get a pilot’s license anyway?
That would be the first thing I’d have to find out, I supposed. I smiled warmly at the plane and walked back to the Pine Way with something in my stomach that was either excitement or dread. I honestly didn’t care which it was. It was something other than anger and loneliness and that was more than enough for me.
I unlocked the door the Pine Way and when I stepped inside, I had nearly forgotten about the uncomfortable visit from Amber Dawson. All I could think about was Mel Tanner’s airplane and how it might have the potential to take my business—and my life—to the next level.
4—Devlin
Five weeks.
That’s how long it took me to make the fall from feeling as if everyone—from my agent to my fans—expected the world of me, to being a useless, scraggly, waste of space. I had done absolutely nothing since I left Aubrey in the hotel. Well, that’s not exactly true. In fact, for the three days after I left her (and Hollywood, and my agent, and my fame, and the director for the next film I had lined up), I had been quite busy.
I had stuck to the random statement I had given the limo driver. I had caught a flight to Alaska. I had caught a red eye to Anchorage. I slept most of the way and made my way through the airport with a severe hangover. It was the first time I had ever flown without any luggage and it had been marvelous. Had it not been for the hangover, I think I might have actually enjoyed it.
I’m not particularly proud of it, but I worked off most of my hangover in the airport. I'd flitted between the Starbucks and the Japanese restaurant, watching the news. I wore a Boston Bruins hat and a pair of aviator sunglasses that did a decent job of hiding my features. I spent five hours in the Anchorage airport and only two people recognized me. Thankfully, they didn't make a big deal about it.
When I ordered my coffee from Starbucks, I used cash, something I never did. I used my black credit card for everything – in fact, I had gone so far as to pull it out and hand it to the cashier. But then I was pretty sure that doing so would mean that Adam would somehow trace the transaction. He’d probably do it within six hours. And that would put a big fat hole in my plans of escaping from Hollywood, and