Prologue

Flowers…check.

Chocolates…check.

Champagne chilled and ready to go…check.

Noise-canceling headphones so I didn’t have to listen to whatever noises were going to float up from the rear cabin…check.

This was so totally not the normal pilot’s checklist. When I talked to Dad over the summer about offering Mile High Club charter flights so we had some extra money coming in to cover my room and board at college, I had no idea how the idea would take off. I’d figured I would take a couple flights out each month so Dad wouldn’t have to scrimp on anything so that I could live on campus. He really wanted me to get the whole college experience, especially since I had chosen to stay in town for school.

Who knew there were so many middle-aged housewives looking to spice up their marriages? I usually had three to four flights booked each week now. At a cool grand per booking, we made enough to cover my room and board and maintenance on the planes, and we even had money left over to pay off my student loans and to cover my tuition for my next two years. I guess they’re right when the say sex sells!

Since the flights were offered in the evening, they didn’t interfere with my classes. Dad wanted as little to do with this venture as possible. He had told me that this was my idea, and he expected me to run with it. Talking about anything connected to sex with his daughter wasn’t really high on his list of things to do. I figured I was lucky that he was willing to let me use the Cherokee for the flights. I just had to make sure I booked them when I was able to be in the pilot’s seat. The last thing I wanted to do was screw my grade point average over because I was skipping too many classes to pilot the flights I was only offering so I could pay for school in the first place.

Today’s flight was due to depart in about thirty minutes, so the lucky couple should be here any minute now. I needed to get my butt in gear so I would be ready when they arrived. The plane was set up for their romantic rendezvous. I was dressed in my charter pilot gear of loose khaki pants and a Hewett Charters polo shirt. I’d pulled my long brown hair back in a low ponytail. This appearance seemed to help the wives feel more comfortable with the idea that their pilot was a twenty year-old girl. Add into the equation that I am passably attractive and I could have a problem on my hands with my paying customers. So I did what I could to make sure I presented myself as a capable pilot and nothing else.

I know it’s crazy for some people to picture me piloting a plane, but I started flying with my dad before I ever got behind the wheel of a car. He lived to fly and taught me to love it as well. I had my permit when I was sixteen, earned my private license when I was seventeen, and got my professional license when I turned eighteen. Some days it felt like I spent more time during my life up in the air than I did on the ground.

Yet another reason Dad wanted me to live on campus this year—so I could hang out with girls and act my age. Dad and I had been two peas in a pod forever, and now he worried that I needed to have a normal life with girlfriends, parties, and boys. I admit that my upbringing wasn’t exactly orthodox, but I was happy with the way things were. I just wished Dad would understand that.

Damn, it sounded to me like my housewife of the day had gone all out for this trip based on the click of her stilettos hitting the tarmac. I didn’t understand how women could walk on shoes that looked like skyscrapers to me. Guess that was just the tomboy in me, much to my best friend’s dismay. Time to get my head in the game so I didn’t scare off the paying customers.

“Welcome to Hewett Charters,” I greeted the middle-aged couple as they made their way towards me. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Williams?”

“Yes, that’s us,” tittered the platinum-blond woman as her husband looked at me quizzically. I guessed that she hadn’t used their real name in the hope that they could keep their trip private. She needn’t have had that concern since I offered complete confidentiality.

“Thank you for booking your flight with us today,” I said. “Everything is all set, and we can be in flight as soon as you are ready to go. Did you have any questions before we board?”

“Ummmm, are you our pilot?” asked Mr. Williams.

“Yes, I’m Alexa Hewett. Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.  I’ve been doing private sightseeing tours for a couple years and have had my pilot’s license for almost three years. I might be a little young, but I grew up with my dad in the cockpit of a plane. I can assure you that I am fully qualified to take you up,” I answered.

“And how does this work exactly?” he questioned.