It was fortunate Olive had already swallowed when Stella spoke, because if she’d been drinking, the coffee would have ended up splattered across Stella’s crisp white shirt. Two spit takes in one day was too many.
Olive held her coffee cup aloft as if she’d turned to stone.
She should say something.
She needed to speak.
“I mean my fake girlfriend. To be clear.” Stella shifted her weight and tapped her fingers on the table.
Nothing was clear. Not clear at all.
Olive should go running out of the shop while telling Stella how preposterous the question was. Escaping. That was the only way to go here. At least that’s probably what any reasonable person would do.
But instead …
“Okay.”
“Just … okay?”
“No, I mean … Okay. As in I understood the words of your question. Because I understand words.” So clever, Olive. Her voice became a thick whisper. “Um. Why?”
“Getting promoted at an airline like mine is political. The airline’s in trouble, like many airlines are these days, and they make it tough to climb to the next level in a career.” There were dark smudges beneath Stella’s eyes. Something had dulled them since Disney World. Was she not sleeping well? Some ridiculous part of Olive felt instinctively protective over sweet and sunshiny Stella. Like she’d do anything to stop her from looking so nervous and agitated. This wasn’t the Stella who ate Swedish Fish at 3:00 A.M. and sprinted from ride to ride at Disney.
Was there more to this than she was saying?
“How exactly does this lead to you wanting to fake date me?” Olive said, trying to keep the cynicism out of her voice.
Subtext: Why the hell don’t you want to actually date me?
“This could help me advance in my career by building goodwill with the powers that be at my company. I have a friend who works in event planning, and she told me they’re going to invite you to our awards banquet to honor what you did on the plane.”
“Invite me?”
Stella wrinkled her forehead. Adorably. That jerk. “People who had never heard of Allied Airlines are talking about us after your video went viral. Our Google searches and bookings went up sixty-five percent after the story about you saving Mickey Mouse hit the news.”
“I didn’t save Mickey Mouse.”
“He plays Mickey Mouse.” She nodded for emphasis. “Morning shows haven’t approached you?”
Olive had been too occupied pathetically pining about Stella to listen to the forty voice mails on her phone. She’d only listened to the newest one in hopes that it was Stella herself, but it was just some radio station wanting an interview. Her inboxes on all social media platforms were too full to know where to start. Stella had been right about that.
“I … I don’t know.”
“I know this is a lot to ask. And I’m sorry to spring this whole thing on you. I … I didn’t realize we didn’t have each other’s numbers when I left—like I said. I don’t know what came over me. I knew where you worked, and I thought I’d stop by.”
“It’s completely fine that you stopped by.” Olive forced an expression she hoped approximated a smile. “I’m really happy to see you. I’m just trying to process this. Can you explain one more time, please?”
“I’ve been eligible for promotion to captain for three years. I have the hours. I have the experience. But I can’t wait any longer. I need this to happen now because … I just do. My company is a boys’ club. I could quit and start over, or I could do something that makes me stand out. Something they can’t ignore. Basically, if people find out that we fell in love after you saved a man’s life on one of my flights, it might be what I need for the right people to finally remember my name.”
There was more to this than what Stella was saying. Olive could sense it, but she got stuck on a single phrase. Fell in love. Because that wasn’t what happened on that roller coaster … nope. It was a gratitude kiss between two friends.
She asked the next question that popped into her reeling brain. “Your company knows you date women?”
“Yes, my colleagues all know I’m a lesbian. Why?” Stella sat up straighter.
“Isn’t this illegal? Lying about this … I mean something seems illegal.” Olive focused on her coffee cup and played with the flap.
“My friend said the CEO really liked the publicity, and these stories tend to die out quickly, but this one’s sticking around. We’re a small airline, so anything like this is helpful from a company perspective.”
“I thought you said you didn’t like them to trot you out as a female pilot poster child.”
“It’s my dream to make captain. And it hasn’t happened for me yet. It’s easy for my bosses to ignore me when it comes time to promote. They love to say ‘he was a better fit for the team’ or ‘it was the right time for him’ but it’s really all code for I don’t want to think about the young Latina woman because I’m different than all the other white men at the top of the ladder.” Her posture went rigid for a moment before she leaned her weight on her forearms and faced Olive, her eyes filled with certainty. “But if I can prove that I can be a value add for the company in another way, even an unconventional one, it might be the thing that pushes me over the edge. I don’t care about whether they trot me out on Female Pilots Week or for Pride Month as long as I have that fourth stripe on my shoulder and captain’s wings.” She touched a spot over her left chest, almost as if she was imagining the wings that would be pinned there.
“You’ve really thought about this?”
“For my entire career it’s felt like they get to use who I am against me when they want to, and I know this is an extreme idea, but I thought just maybe I could use who I am in a way that will let me benefit from it. It’s not just about a promotion, it’s about getting the title I deserve. The timing … it’s important to me. I need this to happen now.”
“The timing?” Olive locked eyes with her.
At least a minute passed before Stella spoke again. “My dad.”
“Your dad?” Olive leaned toward Stella an inch.
“He’s sick. I…” Stella was always so poised and rarely at a loss for words. She blinked several times.
This made more sense. It had been clear that Stella was close with her dad. If he was ill, wanting to make him proud with an accomplishment lined up with who Stella was.
Olive didn’t fill the silence. She waited for Stella to collect her thoughts.
“He wants to see me make captain.” Stella’s voice was quieter than Olive had ever heard it. “I need him to see me make captain.”
“Okay.” Olive nodded.
Olive understood wanting to make a loved one proud. The nurse side of her brain was desperate for more details about what was wrong with Stella’s father, but she didn’t want to be nosy. Stella didn’t seem eager to share more. “I … still don’t exactly know what you’re asking. I’m sorry if I’m being dense.”
Stella brightened immediately. As if the request for concrete, logistical details put her back into her comfort zone. “There are three corporate events between now and the holidays. The awards banquet, the airline holiday party, and the Pilots’ Gala. Two of those events involve all of my bosses. The decision makers at the top. I’ve tried for two years to network. I’ve read networking books and tried to make a name for myself, but still, it’s always the men who get the jobs. If you’re there, I bet my boss’s boss will come talk to me. And hopefully, I’ll impress my CEO enough he’ll remember my name the next time I put in for promotion.” She focused on her coffee cup and used a napkin to wipe away a few stray drips.
“This still seems like a major risk.”
“The alternative is me quitting and starting over. I’ve never quit anything, and I won’t now.”
“Couldn’t there be a benefit to starting over if your company is a group of misogynistic a-holes?” Olive frowned. “I’m not judging or anything. Just curious.”
Stella tapped her nails on the lid of her cup. They were both silent for a few long minutes. Olive guzzled her coffee, hoping a rush of caffeine would help all of this make more sense.
Stella frowned, her beautiful eyes avoiding Olive’s gaze. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I’m really, really sorry I even asked. The next round of promotions comes out in January, and I got desperate when I heard I probably wouldn’t be making the list again, and this was impulsive, and unfair. I didn’t mean to bring up my dad. I don’t want to be manipulative and now that I’m saying all this out loud it feels like I’m just asking to use you as a prop—”
“I don’t feel manipulated,” Olive said. “It just feels like you’re asking me for a favor … and we’re friends, right?”
Stella nodded, but still appeared guilty and unconvinced.
Do something impulsive.
Olive grabbed Stella’s hand. Their eyes met.
“Let me think about it for a day, okay?”
“Really?” She nodded with the energy of a jackrabbit, tightening her grip on Olive’s hand. “You don’t feel pressured? I know this is an unorthodox way to try to get ahead.”
Was it bananas Olive was considering it? Probably.
“Women need to stick together.”
Stella’s fingers had twisted in Olive’s, her thumb stroking across her palm. Olive’s mouth went dry. She jolted as the pager clipped to her collar beeped and a robotic voice said, “Call from Derek Chang.”
She pushed the button, and Derek’s staticky voice came out. “Sorry to interrupt coffee. We have a situation.”
“Be right there.” She lifted her head, surprised to find her fingers still tangled in Stella’s. She pulled away. “Sorry. I have to get back. Can I actually get your number this time?” Olive handed over her phone.
Stella’s dark eyes regained the twinkling quality that had been there underneath the Disney World lights. Stella’s nimble fingers moved over the phone before handing it back. “I sent a text to myself, so I have yours.”
“Perfect.”
“Call from Derek Chang,” the robotic pager voice said again.
“Shit.”Olive tapped the button. “I’m coming.”
With a little shuffle step and a wave that could only be described as awkward as fuck, Olive was run/jogging back upstairs and onto the floor to help.
In Derek’s defense, the emergency was an actual emergency. A cardiac code that lasted all the way to thirty minutes after she was supposed to get off work. Olive flew around the unit, drawing up medications, paging providers, and helping to shuffle assignments until her feet, which hadn’t fully recovered from the half-marathon, were ready to fall off. After she’d given the change of shift report to the next charge nurse, she headed to the parking lot. Derek and Joni were waiting outside the double doors.
“Did you think we weren’t going to ask what happened?” Derek crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“We were just curious.” Joni grinned.
“She wants to be my fake girlfriend.”
For at least an hour or maybe several minutes, nobody spoke.
“Before we get into all the obvious follow-ups about whys and hows … and seriously, why…” Joni’s expression was mystified with a hint of amusement. “Did you tell her no?”
Olive scrunched her nose and eyes and mouth together like that Daenerys Targaryen meme.
Derek laughed.
“I think I said maybe. Maybe?”
“Oh man, Olive.” Derek rubbed his temples, fielding a glare from Joni. “What? She’s got it bad.”
Joni poked Derek in the arm.
“Stella Soriano.” He snorted.
“Stella Soriano?” Joni forced a smile.
“Stella Soriano.” And Olive’s stupid, pathetic heart skipped a beat.