Chapter 1 — First Impressions
Emily
The cabin of Flight 874 thrummed with a familiar rhythm—a symphony of rolling luggage wheels, the muted thud of overhead bins closing, and the clipped, polite exchanges between passengers and crew. Emily Carter moved through the aisle with a practiced efficiency, her heels clicking softly against the carpeted floor. Every detail of her uniform was immaculate, from the crisp folds of her blouse to the neatly polished buttons. Precision mattered. Professionalism mattered.
“Let me help you with that,” she offered smoothly, hoisting a carry-on bag into the overhead compartment for a struggling passenger. Her hazel eyes remained calm, her movements deliberate, exuding control even as her heart maintained its steady drumbeat of vigilance.
Her gaze drifted briefly to the cockpit door. It hung slightly ajar, revealing the broad shoulders of Captain Jack Lawson as he adjusted himself in the pilot’s seat. His voice carried through the opening—low, confident, but with a casual edge that felt at odds with the structured professionalism Emily admired.
“Checklist looks good, Mark. Let’s get this bird in the air,” Lawson said, his tone effortlessly light, as though piloting a plane was just another day at the beach.
Emily frowned. Who spoke like that? Diane Mitchell, the captain she most revered, would never sound so informal. Diane’s clipped, no-nonsense tone commanded immediate respect. Jack Lawson, by contrast, sounded like he was auditioning to narrate an adventure documentary.
“Emily!” Sarah’s cheerful voice broke through her thoughts. Her best friend and fellow flight attendant appeared at her side, her polka-dot scarf fluttering as she adjusted it with a grin. “Relax, will you? It’s Paris. Croissants and champagne await us!”
“I am relaxed,” Emily replied crisply, though her tone came off sharper than intended.
Sarah tilted her head, shooting her a knowing look. “Relaxed, huh? Or bracing yourself for Captain Hotshot in there?” She jerked her thumb toward the cockpit. “I heard he’s a real charmer. Bet he’s already got half the crew swooning.”
Emily’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I don’t swoon,” she said, smoothing the front of her blouse as though to iron out the very notion.
“Of course not, Ms. Ambition,” Sarah teased, her grin widening. “But try to at least pretend to be human for the next seven hours. You know, for the rest of us mere mortals.” She winked and sauntered off toward the galley, leaving Emily to stifle a sigh of irritation.
The boarding process wrapped up quickly, and Emily settled into her jump seat for takeoff, her thoughts still buzzing with Sarah’s teasing. Her hands brushed the small pendant hidden beneath her blouse—a pair of silver wings. The familiar weight of the metal steadied her, pulling her thoughts to her late grandfather. He was the one who had believed in her dream of becoming a pilot, even when no one else had.
The cockpit door opened, and Jack Lawson stepped into the cabin with a casual confidence that made Emily stiffen instinctively. His uniform was perfectly pressed, but there was an effortless way he wore it, as though it were a leather jacket and not a symbol of authority. His dark hair was neatly combed, the streaks of gray at his temples lending him an air of seasoned experience. His piercing blue eyes scanned the cabin, carrying a calm, self-assured energy that Emily found both intriguing and unsettling.
“Flight deck’s all set,” he announced, his voice carrying easily over the low murmur of the cabin. “We’re good to go. Ms. Carter, right?”
Emily blinked, surprised for a moment that he was speaking directly to her. He said her name in a way that felt deliberate, as though he were testing her. She rose from her seat, her posture taut and composed as steel.
“Yes, Captain Lawson,” she replied smoothly, keeping her tone neutral.
His gaze lingered on her for a beat longer than necessary, his expression unreadable but faintly amused. Then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—a subtle, maddening curve. “Let’s have a smooth flight. You strike me as someone who’d demand nothing less.”
Before she could formulate a response, he turned and disappeared back into the cockpit. Emily’s chest tightened, unsure whether she felt dismissed, challenged, or both.
The first hour of the flight followed a familiar rhythm—serving drinks, fielding passenger requests, and checking in with Sarah, whose lighthearted banter kept the cabin atmosphere buoyant. Emily allowed herself a moment to glance toward the cockpit door, wondering how someone like Jack Lawson had earned such a reputation. He was competent, no doubt, but his demeanor blurred the line between charm and irreverence in a way that grated against her disciplined nature.
Her musings were cut short when the plane jolted abruptly, a tremor shuddering through the cabin. The overhead compartments rattled, and a chorus of gasps rippled through the passengers.
Emily steadied herself against the galley counter, her body moving on instinct. The sound of a baby crying from the back of the plane cut through the rising murmurs of concern.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking,” Jack’s voice came through the intercom, steady and reassuring. “We’ve hit a patch of unexpected turbulence, but there’s no cause for concern. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened, and we’ll have you back to smooth skies shortly.”
Emily exhaled, watching as his calm tone worked like a balm over the cabin. Passengers’ shoulders relaxed, and the buzzing whispers quieted. Even she couldn’t deny there was something grounding about his voice, even if his casual manner grated on her.
She moved down the aisle, stopping to reassure a particularly nervous passenger who clutched at his armrests. “It’s just a little bump in the road,” she said gently, her tone even and calm. “The pilots have everything under control.”
But the turbulence worsened, the shuddering growing sharper. Emily’s grip tightened on the nearest seatback as the aircraft wobbled. A faint beeping sound drifted from the cockpit, and unease stirred in her chest like a low current.
The intercom crackled again. “Ms. Carter, to the flight deck, please.” Jack’s voice was calm, but there was an edge of urgency to it this time.
Emily didn’t hesitate. She reached the cockpit door and stepped inside, her hazel eyes immediately drawn to the control panel lit up with blinking indicators. Jack’s hands were steady on the yoke, his expression focused, while Mark, the first officer, monitored the instruments with equal composure.
“Everything all right?” she asked, keeping her voice measured despite the rapid beat of her heart.
Jack glanced at her, his mouth curving into a faint flicker of a smile. “We’ve got it under control. Thought you’d appreciate the view, though.”
Emily frowned, confused, until she followed the slight tilt of his head toward the window. Beyond the glass, the plane had cleared the turbulence, revealing a breathtaking view of the horizon. The sky was awash in gold and pink hues, the setting sun casting a warm, serene glow over the clouds.
Her breath caught. It was a reminder of why she loved flying. The chaos and pressure faded in the face of this quiet majesty, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of peace.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jack said, his voice quieter now, almost reflective.
Emily nodded, momentarily disarmed. But the moment shattered when she noticed his gaze flicker to her pendant, which had slipped out from beneath her blouse during the turbulence.
“Nice pendant,” he remarked, his tone casual but curious. “Special meaning?”
Her fingers flew to the silver wings, tucking them hastily back into place. “Just a keepsake,” she replied, her voice clipped.
Jack didn’t push, but something in his expression shifted—an almost imperceptible look of understanding. He returned his focus to the controls, his demeanor professional and composed.
As she returned to the cabin, Emily grappled with a tangle of emotions. Jack Lawson was a contradiction—effortlessly charming but undeniably competent. He unsettled her, not just because of his demeanor but because, for a moment, he’d caught her off guard.
By the time Flight 874 touched down in Paris, the turbulence had passed, but the current of tension between Emily and Jack lingered, unresolved and electric.
