Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(44)
Stephan beamed at me. “That’s wonderful. Your therapist would be proud.”
I laughed, hardly offended, since he only spoke the truth.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what he said?” I asked him.
He shook his head without hesitation. “He’s been head over heels from the start, Buttercup. I had no doubts. That man worships the ground you walk on.”
[page]CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mr. Callous
We had almost no downtime once we got to Las Vegas. Javier and Stephan said a quick and circumspect goodbye, though I could practically see the heat snapping between them.
We shuttled to our airline’s headquarters, checked in, and prepped for our flight, though that entire process was hardly uneventful.
All of the other crews that we greeted were abuzz with the recent announcement that our airline had filed for Chapter eleven bankruptcy. We were still in business for the moment, but speculation as to what that meant for us was running rampant.
I was mostly in shock about the whole thing. Stephan and I shared a very long look that meant we would talk about it later. The shuttle we took back to the airport was so loud with everyone voicing opinions and fears that we couldn’t have heard each other over the noise if we’d tried.
I texted James.
Bianca: Did you hear the news about the airline?
James: Yes. Can you talk on the phone right now?
Bianca: It’s too loud on the bus. I’ll call you from the plane.
I had a few brief minutes to call him once we got on the plane, between prep time and boarding.
He was very much Mr. Cavendish when he answered the phone. “Hello, Bianca.”
“Hello, Mr. Cavendish,” I said, because I knew who I was talking to. “What do you think of all this bankruptcy stuff? I don’t know what any of it means. It sounds really bad, but people are saying that we could still stay in business.”
I heard his audible sigh over the line. It didn’t bode well. “If you want my candid professional opinion on the matter, what it means is that the airline will stay in business for around a year before its fleet of aircrafts will be grounded for good. Your CEO has exhausted literally every avenue of funding at his disposal, gone to every connection, large and small, that he has. He refuses to give up control of the airline, and he’s never run one successfully, though he has tried several times. He approached me about funding, which is actually why I was on the flight where I met you, but I had to decline based solely on the fact that it would have been a disastrous business decision for me. He was not willing to make any leadership concessions, and I wasn’t willing to throw a hundred mil away on a man with a clear history of failure.”
“In the near future,” he continued relentlessly. “Say the next days and weeks, you will most likely be given an option for a voluntary furlough, and if that fails to yield enough willing candidates, an involuntary one. The airline will be cutting costs and staffing. Any routes that aren’t profitable will be aborted within the next month. Any other questions?”
I felt deflated by his revelations, though I didn’t doubt for a second that he knew what he was talking about. “Did you know all along that this was going to happen?”
“Yes,” he said with no hesitation. “It was all only a countdown. The airline has been hemorrhaging money from the start. This is the era of discount fares, and your airline was a start-up luxury carrier. Everyone in the industry is just surprised that it lasted this long. Have you given any more thought to your painting career? Just say the word, and I’ll have my people prepare your showing.”
I thought that was rather callous of him. Of the two of us, I’d thought I had the monopoly on being insensitive.
“I have not,” I told him, my voice stiff. “I haven’t had time to process any of this.”
There was a long pause on the other end. “Well, I will leave you to it then. I need to go. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Cavendish,” I said coldly, wondering at his mood. When I had called him, I hadn’t expected to talk to this callous man.
“Goodbye, Bianca.”
I hung up, feeling a little stung at his cold manner. Was my hesitation about showing my paintings really bothering him this much? Or was it something else? Whatever was going on with Roger, perhaps?
I knew speculating was pointless, so I got to work. It bothered me persistently, though. Not knowing the cause for his distant demeanor left my mind free to run wild with possibilities and paranoid fears, each one more alarming than the last.
I tried my hardest to distract myself for the duration of the flight. It was at least full, my bodyguards in each cabin included, of course. Even full, though, I was left with nothing to do by halfway into the flight.
Damien and Murphy had been uncharacteristically quiet for the pre-board procedures and the flight. I knew they must be upset about the bad news. If they started at another airline, they likely wouldn’t get to work together for years. Damien would probably be demoted to the first officer position, making it impossible for them to work the same flights. Even after he made captain again, it would take time for them to get enough seniority to get regular routes, let alone routes together. I was sad for them. They made such a fun team.