Flight Read online

  Flight

  Copyright © 2013 Siena Colmer

  Amazon Edition

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Ryle Sullivan is busy enough with his successful architectural business without having to worry about the billion dollar aerospace company he inherited from his mother. He’s ready to get rid of his shares when his grandfather convinced him to give the business a six month trial. Ryle walks into Prescott Aerodynamics' Linwood division ready to turn his back on the business once and for all. Instead, he’s instantly captivated by the smart and pretty engineer whose passion and drive elicited a surprising response from his jaded heart.

  For Charlie Brison, she learned a painful lesson about mixing personal and professional relationships. After years of building a respected reputation at work, she was ready to give love a chance with nice guy Jeff Hathaway. But everything changed when Ryle walked into her life.

  The minute Ryle drifts into town; she knows he’s trouble. He’s too sexy, too confident, and determined to get her into his bed. She wants nothing to do with him, but she can’t help being aware of him every time he’s near. Suddenly she’s in danger of jeopardizing her reputation and heart by falling for the carefree drifter.

  How long can she resist his undeniable charm and sexy smile? How long before she gives in to him?

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Epilogue

  “Grandfather.”

  Marcus Prescott looked up as Ryle approached his hospital bed. “What are you doing here?” Marcus demanded, frowning. “I thought you had an important meeting to go to.”

  “I cancelled it.” Ryle answered nonchalantly.

  The old man snorted. “I told you not to come.”

  “I wanted to come see you for myself.”

  “It’s just a minor thing.” Marcus scoffed.

  Ryle Sullivan didn’t need an excuse to see his grandfather; he normally visited his grandfather a couple of times a month. They often sat together and played a game of chess. And during the golf season, they played golf on Sundays whenever Ryle could get away. But he was busy at work recently, and didn’t have the time to fly into Chicago to visit his grandfather. His grandfather’s butler, Mansfield, called him this morning to tell him that his grandfather was admitted to the hospital last night because of severe chest pains had Ryle worried. He dropped everything, hopped on a Prescott company jet and immediately flew to Chicago, despite his grandfather's reassurance that he was okay. Ryle had a lengthy talk with his grandfather’s doctor, and found out that it was not a heart attack, but a bout of angina. Nevertheless, Ryle had cancelled his meetings and went to see his grandfather.

  “I told Mansfield not to bother you at work.” Marcus said. “I was checked out fine.”

  “Mansfield should have called me last night.” Ryle said exasperatedly. “And I’ve told him so.”

  “You can’t blame him; I ordered him not to call you.”

  “Grandfather, nothing is more important than you.”

  “Don’t get sappy on me, boy.”

  Ryle smiled, amused.

  “I’m getting out of here as soon as all the paperwork is filled.”

  “Good.”

  “So no need to wait around for this old man.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Ryle said firmly, with finality in his voice.

  He stayed with his grandfather while they waited for the discharge papers to complete. It was sometime later when they heard voices coming from outside the room. The door opened and two of Ryle's cousins, Lily and Jessie, came rushing inside.

  “Ryle, you’re here!” Jessie squealed, launching herself at him to hug and kiss him.

  “Hey Squirt.” Ryle smiled, returning her hug and giving her a brotherly kiss on the forehead. “Hey Lily,” He added, nodding to his older cousin.

  “Hello Ryle.” Lily stepped forward more dignifiedly after Jessie released him, and they exchanged a light kiss on the cheeks in greeting.

  “Is Grandpa awake?” Jessie asked.

  “Why don’t you come over here and find out?” Marcus boomed from his bed.

  “Gramps!” Jessie cried, crossing the large private room to his bedside, a worried look on her beautiful face.

  “Jessica, my sweet girl,” Marcus, as always, had a soft spot for his granddaughters.

  “Oh, Gramps, we were so worried.” Jessie cried out as she went up to the side of his hospital bed to gently hug him and then kiss him on the cheek. “As soon as we heard, we came straight here to see you.”

  “There’s no need to worry. I told everyone I was fine.” Marcus dismissed.

  “Hello grandfather,” Lily walked into the room more calmly. She walked up to her grandfather’s bedside and hugged and kissed him. “How are you feeling?” She asked affectionately.

  “I always feel better when I see my girls.” He said charmingly.

  “They’re discharging him this morning. We're just waiting for the doctor.” Ryle told his cousins.

  “Oh, good.” Lily sighed with relief. She looked at Ryle. “Are you taking him back to Wateridge?”

  “Where else would I go, my girl? Wateridge is my home.”

  Ryle exchanged a look with Lily. “Grandfather, we know you stay at your condo in the city whenever you’re working when you shouldn’t be.” Lily said.

  Marcus snorted but wouldn’t deny it.

  Their grandfather lived on a lakefront estate in Chicago’s North Shore. Lovingly named Wateridge by their grandmother when they first built it; it was where Marcus and Annika Prescott raised their family; where Ryle’s mother grew up.

  Ryle had a lot of happy memories of Wateridge. As a little boy, he ran through the halls, leaving a trail of chaos for the servants to deal with, and barged into his grandmother’s garden parties. He was five when his parents moved to Manhattan, where his father opened his new office. During those years, his mother often came back to Chicago during the summer months, bringing him with her to visit his grandparents.

  While his cousins fussed over their grandfather, Ryle had a chance to talk with the doctor after she gave Marcus a final check and the all clear for discharge.

  “Dr. Bessler, I'm Ryle Sullivan, we spoke on the phone this earlier.” Ryle introduced himself. “How is my grandfather?”

  “Yes, Mr. Sullivan,” She smiled warmly, “Your grandfather is doing great. Everything checked out fine.”

  Dr. Alex Bessler sounded pleasant and professional over the phone. In person, she appeared to be in her early to mid-twenties, and she looked as gorgeous as her voice promised. Her refined features reminded Ryle of the paintings his grandmother had from her aristocratic Russian bloodline.

  “She said I'm as strong as a bull.” Marcus interjected. “So you can stop hara
ssing the beautiful doctor about me, boy, and ask her out instead.”

  “Marcus, shouldn't you wait until you're out of the hospital before you try to cause more trouble for me?” Dr. Bessler asked lightly with laughing eyes. She had spoken in fluent Russian, Ryle realized with amazement.

  Marcus chuckled delightedly. “Alex, my dear, you know I never promised I'd behave.” He responded in English.

  Ryle was amused. Obviously, his formidable grandfather was completely charmed by the young doctor. And since she spoke Russian with him, Ryle wondered if his grandfather had told her about his deceased wife, who was of Russian and French decent.

  After his grandfather was discharged, Lily and Jessie left for work and school. Ryle went with his grandfather to Wateridge, where they spent most of the day relaxing and playing chess.

  “I want to let you know, I’m leaving Wateridge to you.” Marcus said with his hand hovering over a chess piece.

  Ryle frowned. “Don’t talk nonsense. You still have many years left.”

  “Don’t worry; I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere.” His grandfather dismissed. “But Wateridge holds a lot of meaning for you and I want to leave the property and everything in it to you. Your uncles and cousins have already taken the items they want from this place.”

  “You don’t have to leave anything to me.” He told his grandfather quietly. “Leave it all to my uncles and cousins.”

  “I’ve left money and other assets to your uncles and cousins. But Wateridge is for you. I know you’ll take good care of it.”

  The thought of his grandfather dying was not something he wanted to be contemplating for a long time yet. But he knew he had to face reality, his grandfather was eighty years old. And even if he had a dozen years left, that was still too short for Ryle.

  “Speaking of assets; the private shareholders’ meeting is coming up.” Ryle reminded the old man. “I’m going ahead with my plans.”

  Marcus frowned. “What plans are that?”

  “Grandfather, we talked about this.”

  “Dammit, you are a Prescott.” Marcus scowled.

  “I’m a Sullivan.”

  “You have Prescott blood. You’re more like me than you know it, my boy.”

  Ryle didn’t mind being compared to his grandfather. In fact, it was quite the compliment to be compared to the shrewd and astute old man.

  “Let’s face it, Grandfather, as far as my uncles are concerned, I’m not a true Prescott. Those shares shouldn’t go out of the Prescott family name.”

  “Those are my shares and I can damn well give it to anyone I want.” Marcus blistered. “Your mother was my child too, and I can damn well give her an equal share as all her brothers.”

  “She was meant to have control of it for a lot longer than she did.” Ryle pointed out. “She knew the company. I don’t. I shouldn’t have control of it.”

  “It was always meant to go to you, my boy, even if your mother didn’t pass away so early.” Marcus said soberly.

  When Marcus retired twelve years ago, he divided all the private shares amongst his five children. Those were the voting shares of the multi-billion dollar company. Ryle being an only child would eventually become the largest single shareholder when his uncles divided their shares amongst their children.

  “What I’m doing will be good for the company.” Ryle said simply. “I’m not part of the inner circle; I don’t know anything about the company and I don’t work for the company. Let my uncles and cousins have it. They’ve worked damned hard for it. They deserve it; I don’t. As one of the major shareholder with no knowledge of the company or industry, I’ll end up holding the company back; I wouldn’t be making informed decisions.”

  “Then get informed.”

  Ryle sighed. “I have a career; a very good one. I enjoy my work. It’s taken me some time, but I’m finally at a place where I want to be. I’m not going to work for Prescott Aerodynamics.”

  “Stubborn like your father.” Marcus muttered disgustedly.

  Ryle smiled. He had heard the story of how his father struggled as a young new architect, but he still turned down a prominent position in Prescott Aerodynamics when he married Ryle’s mother, despite Marcus’s insistence.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Marcus grunted.

  “Before you give up your shares, do this one thing for me.” Marcus finally said after mulling silently for several moments.

  “What is it?” Ryle was intrigued. What could the old man be thinking now? He had to keep his wits about him when he was with his grandfather. Despite his age, Marcus was still a sharp-witted and cunning old devil.

  “Give me six months. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “Six months? For what?”

  “Six months to look around the company, get the feel of it. You might learn a thing or two.” Marcus said casually, a little too casually.

  Ryle gave a short laugh, “I’m sure I’ll learn more than a thing or two.”

  “If you still want to sell after that, I won’t stop you.”

  Ryle didn’t point out he couldn’t stop him now.

  “If you’re hoping I’ll fall in love with the company and change my mind, don’t hold your breath.” He warned his grandfather.

  The old man snorted. “I’m too damned old to hold my breath.”

  Later in the day, Ryle’s uncles and cousins came by to see Marcus. The Prescott clan was a good sized one, with four uncles and their wives, and nine cousins. Most of his cousins were of a similar age. At thirty years old, Ryle was in the middle of the pack. The two eldest, Mark and Lily were the only cousins to have married yet. He was on good terms with most of his uncles and all his cousins.

  After an early dinner, Marcus went to bed to rest. Ryle was catching a commercial red-eye flight back to New York City. With some time to kill before his flight, he joined his cousins at a hockey game. Prescott Aerodynamics kept a box suite at the United Center for all major events, including season passes for the Chicago Blackhawks and Chicago Bulls. He had spent many enjoyable evenings at the box suite with his cousins, watching the games and hanging out with their friends. He got along well with his cousins and they always had a rowdy time together. This evening was no exception.

  It was early morning when Ryle got back to Manhattan.

  With the upcoming hiatus he was taking away from his company, he needed to put everything in order and delegate his accounts to the senior architects. Risberg & Sullivan was the architectural firm Ryle and his good friend, Logan Risberg, ran together. They met at Columbia U and went into business together soon after receiving their licenses.

  They worked out of a loft office in SoHo. The firm contained a small team, Ryle and Logan as principal architects, three senior architects and two junior ones, plus a handful of support staff, including Tamara Grady, Ryle’s personal assistant. They were now in their fifth year with a very successful practice that allowed them to pick and choose their projects.

  Ryle spent most of the morning in his office with Tamara, giving her detailed instructions for everything that needed to be done after he left. Tamara also rearranged schedules and set up meetings with the three senior architects to conference with him.

  “I have Jean Moreau for you on line one.” Tamara buzzed in some time later.

  Ryle picked up the phone. “Jean, ont doivent discuter quelques problèmes avant des implémentions…” He began in fluent French. He spoke to the Frenchman at length regarding the project.

  After Ryle hung up the phone, Tamara patched him through to their counterpart in Paris.

  “Set up a meeting with Logan for tomorrow. Logan needs to be aware of all the changes.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Logan asked, strolling into Ryle’s office.

  “When did you get back?” Ryle asked instead of answering.

  “Last night, on a red-eye.”

  “You didn’t have to come in today.”

  “I heard you had a busy week.”


  “Yeah. Marcus gave us a scare with a bout of angina; I had to reschedule everything to go to Chicago.”

  “And now you’re rescheduling everything for what?”

  “I’m taking a sabbatical.” Ryle said and explained about his grandfather’s request.

  “Six months huh?” Logan said when Ryle finished.

  “I’ll be back in time for the start of the Jean Moreau project.”

  Jean Moreau was their most ambitious project yet, with both Ryle and Logan working on it together. The most important part of the project was coming up in seven months. This gave him more than enough time to indulge his grandfather’s whimsy.

  Logan whistled, “Six months in Linwood? You’re going to be bored out of your mind.”

  Ryle shrugged. “Chicago is not that far away.”

  “Right. I forgot that was your old playground. Not to mention the horde of exes.” His friend smirked. “It’s not too hard to head into the city for your booty call.”

  There was a brief knock at the door and Katia Varekova walked in, or more like glided in.

  “And speaking of booty calls,” Logan murmured, amusement lifting the corners of his mouth.

  “I thought I’ll find you here.” Katia said with a heavy East European accent.

  “Katia.” Ryle smiled, his eyes running appreciatively over her.

  She was all legs. Sex on legs. With her large seductive eyes and her dark blond hair loose and tumbling around her like she just got out of bed. He knew for a fact that in reality she did look just as sexy rolling out of bed.

  “Katia, nice to see you again.” Logan said, looking over her appreciatively.

  “Logan,” Katia said, pausing to brush a lingering kiss on his lips as she walked by him. She stopped in front of Ryle and kissed him deeply in greeting. “Darling,”

  Ryle enjoyed her passionate kiss, uncaring that his friend was staring at them unabashedly.

  “What are you doing here?” Ryle asked when the kiss ended.

  “I came to see you, of course. When I got back yesterday, I called you but no answer. And you were not answering your cell phone.” Katia said with a pretty pout.