Chapter 14
Isabella
We were five hours into the flight, and Dante had been the most attentive host. I just wished I could give him more attention, but my mind was still going in circles after reading that letter. All I could think about was the person sending them to me. My mind should be in the game and not focusing on all this personal stuff. Each time Dante tried to talk to me, I brushed him off, not on purpose, but because my thoughts were elsewhere.
Luckily for me, Maya had been talking to him nonstop, creating a diversion so I could think. Once we landed, I’d have to make sure to apologize to him for being so silent. I began to notice Maya becoming more and more flirtatious toward him. Could she be any more obvious? If that short skirt of hers didn’t give any indication of her motives, then I was sure the constant touching and leg crossing did.
Maya was an attractive, intelligent young woman with an MBA from one of the top business schools in the country, yet he seemed uninterested in her flirtations. Not only that, he kept staring at me. I knew he could sense something was off with me. Maybe that was why he kept staring. Perhaps he thought I wasn’t ready for this meeting. I needed to pull myself together and concentrate. That letter should have been the last of my worries. We had a few more hours on the flight, which would give me ample time to review the proposals Maya brought on board with her.
“Is everything going fine with you all? More wine, cheese, pillows, blankets, anything?” asked the copilot. I looked around for the hostess, but she was nowhere to be found.
“No, Gaspard. Why don’t you sit down and join us?” Dante said. The copilot was standing over me with another bottle of Yquem. The man looked old enough to be Dante’s father. He had silky dark hair with fine lines of gray, yet one could tell his body was well-built through his button-down shirt and tie. He had a French accent, but it wasn’t so thick that I couldn’t understand him.
“Ladies, I’d like you to meet Gaspard. He’s one of my most trusted business managers, pilot on occasion, and dear friend. He also speaks multiple languages, which is why I’ve asked him to accompany us to our meeting in Seoul.” Gaspard set the wine on the table in front of us and took a seat next to me.
“Do you speak Korean?” I asked.
Pouring himself a glass, Gaspard looked at Dante and chuckled. “Yes, I do, actually. That’s one of the reasons Dante asked me to come.”
I lifted my brows, and my eyes went wide. If I had known that, I probably wouldn’t have asked Maya to join us. Nevertheless, she seemed to be enjoying herself, and I still needed her expertise, so I guessed bringing her along was the right call. I noticed she had her hand on Dante’s knee and whispered something in his ear. He smiled and nodded. I began to think Maya had had a little too much to drink.
“And just what is so funny?” Gaspard asked playfully.
“She just wanted to know if you were single. I told her you were,” said Dante. I face-palmed and shook my head. I couldn’t believe this woman.
“How about we keep things a little more professional?” Gaspard stated.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. . . .”
“Mr. Dufort. But you can call me Gaspard.”
“I’m sorry, Gaspard. I think Maya may have had one too many glasses of wine,” I said.
“Oh, come now, Gaspard. It isn’t as if she was asking for your hand in marriage. I think it’s good to have a little leisurely conversation before we get to Korea. No need to be so serious,” said Dante.
“May I speak to you for a moment, sir? In private?” asked Gaspard. Dante grabbed Maya’s hand after she had strategically moved it up his leg onto his inner thigh. He slid her hand off, followed Gaspard to the cockpit, and closed the door.
“Would you get ahold of yourself? We’re here on business, remember,” I said in a stern voice.
“I’m sorry, but he’s such a good-looking man, don’t you think? His scent is mesmerizing.”
“He doesn’t seem to be reciprocating your advances.”
“You’re right. He seems to be more concerned with you.”
My brows curled. I didn’t want to acknowledge it, but if it was evident to her, then it was apparent to everyone. “Yes, I know he keeps looking at me. I think he notices my standoffish behavior. It’s that damned letter and my husband. They both have me thinking things that I shouldn’t right now.”
“All right, Isabella, I’ll tell you what. When we get back, I’ll help you find out who is sending them to you. In the meantime, just put them aside and enjoy yourself. We’ve already gone over the financials and strategy of our business proposals, and all we have to do is communicate them to our management team when we get there. So, just loosen up a bit.”
I sighed. I supposed she was right. After all, this was my first time going to South Korea, as I usually delegated all the traveling to Oliver. I really should hire a chief operations officer so my CFO wouldn’t be bogged down with too many responsibilities.
“Okay, Maya. But just cool it on the flirting, would you?”
“I can’t help it. I mean, just look at him. He just oozes success and sex.”
“Maya—” I gave her an evil glare.
“Come on, Isabella. I think I’m starting to wear him down. Before he wouldn’t even talk to me and seemed annoyed I was here. Now he’s beginning to warm up to me. I can’t just throw away all the progress I’ve made.”
“Fine, just please try to keep your hands off him, at least until we get to Seoul.”
“I’ll try,” she said, before taking another sip of her wine.
“And that will be quite enough of that,” I said, taking away her glass and handing her a bottle of water. Gaspard and Dante opened the door to the cockpit and made their way back to us. Dante took a seat in the very back by the twin bed, leaving Gaspard sitting in between Maya and me, then pulled out a computer and sat in solitude, typing away. Gaspard poured himself more wine.
“Is everything all right?” asked Maya.
“Dante just has some business to take care of. It’s best if we allow him to work. Our business consultants will be meeting with your VPs and directors there before we get to Seoul to review the business proposals we developed. We’ve already emailed them. Everything should be in order when we get there,” he said.
“I’m confident our teams will work great together,” I stated.
“As am I.”
“What about you, Dante?” shouted Maya. He didn’t respond or even look in our direction. He had headphones in his ears and seemed to be focused on whatever was on his computer. After being ignored, Maya turned her attention to Gaspard.
“Excuse me. But do you mind if I ask how old you are?” Gaspard asked.
Maya pointed to herself. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” Gaspard responded.
“Twenty-five.”
“Ha! That explains everything.”
“What explains everything?” She sent him a confused look.
“Oh, nothing.” Gaspard tried to hide his grin.
“Well, how old are you?”
“Fifty-one.”
“And that explains everything for me as well,” Maya mocked.
“I’m sure it does.”
“Do you want me to leave you two alone?” I interjected.
“Sure, if you want to,” Maya said softly.
I nodded at the both of them and unbuckled myself. Stretching my arms and legs, I wandered to the front of the jet near the cockpit with my wineglass. The door was open, but I was hesitant to go any farther. I’d never seen the inside of a cockpit on a jet before, so I lingered by the door, peeking inside.
“Why don’t you come on in?” said the pilot.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes. Unless, of course, you’re a jinx. In that case, please stay out there,” he said with a laugh. I rolled my eyes and walked inside. He cleared a jacket and some other stuff off the copilot’s seat for me. I slowly made my way into the seat and put my glass on the floor between us. I was in awe of all the controls and devices needed to fly this thing.
“You ever been in a cockpit before?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t. This is my first time.”
He took another sip of his coffee and sat back. “So, what did you do to spark Mr. Alonso’s interest? It must have been something quite extraordinary,” he said. I was taken aback and shot him a look of confusion. I had no idea what he meant by spark interest.
“What do you mean? I haven’t done anything. He approached us with this business partnership. I never met him before that,” I said. He sat up straight in his chair and stared at me for a few seconds. He looked as though he was searching my eyes for something.
“Are you okay?” I asked. He faced his eyes forward and cleared his throat.
“Please, forget what I just said.” He focused his attention on the various instruments on the control panel. “So, what’s in Korea?” he said.
I could tell he was trying to change the subject. “I’m afraid you’re not getting off that easy. What did you mean by my sparking his interest?” I asked firmly. Looking at me through the side of his eye, he started flipping controls, ignoring me. A few moments went by. “Well?” I asked again. A few more minutes—still nothing. “All right, if you’re not going to clarify that for me, can you at least tell me what Dante and his business manager came in here to discuss?”
He parted his lips as if he were finally about to break his silence. “That’s confidential,” he said, much to my annoyance. I didn’t understand this. As soon as I displayed my ignorance about Dante’s interest in me, this man completely shut down. It’s as if someone put him in a torture chamber and instructed him not to say a word, under any circumstances, no matter how much pain was inflicted. Something strange was happening here. It didn’t look as though I was going to get anywhere with him.
“All right . . . well, can you tell me how long you’ve been working for Dante?” I waited for his response, but he just sat there looking over his controls. He still wouldn’t talk. Did he suddenly go deaf or something? This was becoming frustrating. That’s when everything made sense. He’d talked to me, thinking I already knew. But I didn’t. This was a coup. I leaned closer to him and gripped the back of his seat.
“Hey!” I said in a stern voice. Finally, he turned to me. “I’m going to ask you a very serious question, and you’d better answer it.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Have you ever seen that movie Ghost where Patrick Swayze’s character sings ‘I’m Henry the Eighth, I Am’ repeatedly in an extremely annoying tone of voice? Well, if you don’t answer my question, I’m going to do the same to you all the way to Seoul.”
“Ma’am, please . . .”
“Just answer the question, and all will be fine.”
“You’re going to get me fired.”
“Whatever is said will be just between us, I promise.”
“Okay, fine, ask your question.”
“Is Dante planning on buying out my company to merge it with his conglomerate? Since our IPO, there is a substantial amount of shares in the market, and I know he has the capital to do so. Just know that I’m the majority shareholder and I’ll never sell,” I hissed.
“Excuse me?” He looked at me flabbergasted.
“You heard me. I built this company, and if he thinks he can just buy me out, then he’s sorely mistaken.”
He burst out laughing. “That’s what you’re worried about?” he asked, seemingly relieved.
“Well, that’s his plan, isn’t it? He is Dante Alonso, after all.”
“That is not the case at all, Mrs. Williams.”
“So you’re saying he has no interest in buying me out?”
“He has absolutely no plans for a hostile takeover, or any kind of acquisition of your company, ma’am. You needn’t worry about that.”
I leaned in close to him to search his eyes. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“Listen, Mrs. Williams, know this one thing—Mr. Alonso is interested in something, but it isn’t taking over your company.”
“Well, what is he interested in?” My curiosity rose.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“All right, fine. You brought this on yourself.” I snatched my glass off the floor and downed the last gulps of wine within it. I was already tipsy, and my inhibitions were lowered. I had no regrets about what I was going to do. I cleared my voice and took a few deep breaths. The pilot looked at me, preparing himself for whatever he thought I was about to do. Giving him an evil grin, I began.
“I’m ’Enry the Eighth, I am,” I shouted annoyingly and off-key.
“Dear God. You were serious?” he asked, startled. I continued to scream the lyrics of the song, my voice cracking and raspy.
“Please stop.”
“Second verse, same as the first!”
“All right, okay, I’ll tell you! Just stop singing.” He sighed. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”
“Well?” I asked victoriously. Once again, he sighed.
“Mr. Alonso is interested in—”
“Hello! What’s going on up here?” asked Maya, bursting the door open in a drunken barrage.
“What the hell, Maya?”
Gaspard gave chase to help her back to her seat. “You wouldn’t mind giving me a hand with her, would you?” he asked.
I got up to help him. “I thought I said that you had enough,” I scolded her.
“Sorry, it was his idea,” she said, barely able to walk. As we left the cockpit, the pilot reached his hand over to the door handle.
“Enjoy the rest of the flight,” he said before shutting the door behind us and locking it.
“Hey, wait,” I said, but it was too late. He certainly wasn’t going to let me back in there after what I just pulled. I guess I’d have to find out what this was all about some other way.