Boardwalk Brides

  “Brooke says you’re expert matchmakers,” Darren added. “I think she credited Lilly for matching her up with Jason, even.”

  “That’s right.” Lilly grinned. “My doing. All my doing.”

  “Well, you and God.” Shawneda jabbed her with an elbow. “But it’s true, we’re expert matchmakers. For everyone but ourselves.”

  “It’s all harmless fun,” Lilly said, as she stepped up to the counter to order her drink. “None of us has found the perfect man yet, anyway. Except Brooke, I mean.”

  Candy sighed. It might’ve been harmless fun, but Darren had overheard and possibly taken offense. Surely he didn’t take well to being talked about behind his back. His dating life—or lack thereof—was none of their business.

  The embarrassment that had taken hold of Candy just moments before was now replaced with shame. Lord, I’m sorry. I try so hard to guard my tongue, and look what I’ve done this time.

  Darren reached the counter and ordered two coffees, then promptly returned to the cute little redhead. She talked a mile a minute, capturing his attention. Candy nudged the other girls toward the opposite side of the coffee shop. She’d suffered enough embarrassment for one night, thank you very much. No point in carrying things one bit further.

  Still, as they took their seats, her gaze kept shifting back to Darren. She’d been right about one thing. He needed a confident woman at his side. Problem was, the woman in the seat next to his appeared almost too confident. More the steamroller sort. Darren was hardly getting a word in edgewise.

  Then again, maybe he liked that. Some guys did.

  Candy shook her head and sighed, then shifted her focus back to Shawneda and Lilly. This quirky pair certainly gave her enough to think about, anyway.

  ❧

  As his getting-to-know-you date with Andrea continued, Darren did his best to stay focused. She had no idea, of course, that his thoughts had shifted to the beautiful brunette who’d just entered the coffee shop. Stop it, man. Be a gentleman.

  Thankfully, Candy and the other girls left after just a few minutes. Darren relaxed, finally able to be himself. Unfortunately, Andrea glanced at her watch and announced she had to leave.

  “I’ve got a speaking engagement at seven, and I need to be a little early to set up my books.”

  “You’re a writer. . .too?” He could hardly believe it. Was there anything the woman couldn’t do?

  “Yeah.” She nodded and her cheeks turned pink. “Just a little book I wrote about allowing God back in the political arena. It’s done pretty well on the New York Times bestseller list. I can’t believe Brooke and Jason didn’t mention it.”

  “I guess they wanted me to hear it from you. But, wow. A New York Times bestseller?”

  “Aw, it’s not a big deal.” She rose and he joined her.

  “No big deal?”

  Andrea shrugged. “Trust me, in the circles I travel, having a book is nothing. The only thing that matters is making sure the right man—or woman—gets elected. And that’s my real goal right now. Well, that and keeping my name before the public.”

  “Oh?”

  “Might sound crazy. I’m not even all that interested in promoting myself or my book. But the more I can keep my name out there, the greater the chances I can help inner-city kids. That’s my real passion.”

  “Right. Jason told me.”

  They headed toward the door of the coffee shop together. Andrea continued to share with enthusiasm in her voice. “I really am sorry that I have to leave. I was enjoying getting to know you.”

  “Same here.”

  Another glance at her watch caused her brow to wrinkle. “It’s just that I’m speaking at a political fund-raiser tonight. Newark has plans for a wonderful new school of the arts for inner-city kids. They’re planning to pattern it after a school in D.C. that I’ve worked with. Great things happening there. Wish I had the time to tell you all about it, but I’ve got to get going.”

  “Of course.” He opened the door for her, and she extended her hand.

  “Great to meet you, Darren.” For a moment she looked directly into his eyes, and he thought he saw a glimmer of hope there.

  “Great to meet you, too.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

  She disappeared in the direction of her rental car, and Darren stood in the open doorway, torn between returning inside for his half-filled cup of coffee and heading home to his empty house.

  The coffee won out.

  SEVEN

  The next morning Darren dressed for work, his thoughts shifting back and forth from Andrea to Candy. Sure, last night’s date was supposed to be about one woman, but how could he think straight, once Candy Carini walked in the room? He couldn’t. And he’d wrestled with the sheets through the night, half-guilty about the fact that Candy had consumed his thoughts while he was on a date with Andrea, and half-wondering when he might see Candy again.

  As he drove to work, Darren’s cell phone rang. He pulled his car into a nearby parking lot to take the call. Darren recognized his friend Gary’s voice at once. “Hey, Darren, you got a few minutes to talk?”

  “Sure.” He shifted the phone to the other ear.

  “Just wanted to update you, in case you hadn’t heard. Some of the guys are talking about picketing, claiming discrimination. What do you think of that idea?”

  “Picketing? Discrimination?” He sighed. “I don’t know, Gary.”

  His friend’s voice tightened. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being scrutinized. But I’ll bet you’d be thinking about it a lot harder if you were walking a mile in my shoes right now.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Sorry.” Gary released a sigh. “That was completely out of line, and I really am sorry. I guess it’s just my disappointment speaking. I know my record with the company isn’t as clean as yours. Frankly, I don’t know anyone whose is. Still, this is tough, man.”

  Darren thought about Gary. . .his quick temper, the write-up he’d received for the way he’d snapped at his crew. One incident, in particular, had raised hairs. Gary had chewed out his first officer—a woman—a few weeks back. And, from what Darren had heard, the incident was unwarranted. Likely that had been enough to put his job at risk. This wasn’t the first time, after all.

  So, was Eastway really applying pressure because of rising fuel costs, or was that just what Gary wanted people to think? Regardless, picketing wasn’t the answer, at least not until Darren knew all the details. Even then, what would the new pilots think if he linked arms with the other men? Likely, the new female pilots had no idea what they were walking into.

  Thankfully, Gary got another call. Darren slapped his cell phone shut and decided to spend the remainder of his trip to the airport in prayer.

  He arrived at the parking lot with plenty of time to spare. Determined not to let the phone conversation get the better of him, he boarded the plane. Craig, a flight attendant in his early thirties, caught his attention right away. “Morning, Cap’n. We’ve got a new first officer onboard today.”

  “Oh?” Darren shifted his flight bag to the other shoulder. “Who is he?”

  “He’s a she.” Craig’s eyebrows elevated. “And a mighty pretty she, if I do say so myself. She’s a new hire, by the way. Looks a little nervous.”

  “She?” Darren released a slow breath. He knew in his gut just who “she” would be.

  “Name’s Candy Carini. Brooke says we’re supposed to call her Cotton Candy just to get her riled up.”

  “On her first flight? I don’t think so.”

  Craig’s expression changed. “Hey, what’s up with you? You’re usually the jokester.”

  “I’m just saying there will be plenty of time for the funny stuff later. This is her first flight, and I’m sure her nerves are going to be an issue. She doesn’t need any distractions.”

  “O–okay. No problem.”

  “So. . .” Darren looked around. “Where is she, anyway?”

  “Inspecting the aircraft.”
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  With his nerves slightly jumbled, Darren said his hellos to rest of the crew, then settled into his seat to prepare for departure.

  ❧

  Though Candy had never flown for Eastway before today, she knew the drill. As copilot, she would carry out a visual inspection of the aircraft before entering the cockpit.

  With some trepidation, she made her way around every square inch of the underbelly of the plane, checking for possible fuel leakage or hydraulic fluid dripping from pipelines. She scrutinized the landing gear and every tire, making sure they were in great condition, then inspected the engine turbine blades to make sure they were in tip-top shape. She continued on, going over everything with a fine-tooth comb. Thoroughly satisfied the aircraft was fit to fly, she made her way onboard.

  Finally. The moment of truth. She approached the cockpit, surprised to find Darren Furst already seated. He turned to her with a brusque nod. She returned it, followed by a “Good morning, Captain.”

  “Morning.”

  Okay, we’re a man of few words this morning. As she took her seat, Candy breathed a prayer for God’s help. All of the years of preparation, and yet here she sat, scared out of her mind. Not that she needed to be. She’d simply been called on to copilot with Darren, and he certainly knew his stuff.

  She watched as Darren marked items off a pretakeoff checklist. While waiting for approval from the ground control to push back from the gate and start the engines, Candy tried to make small talk. She made a funny comment about their common love of coffee, and he smiled. Ah. A connection. Finally.

  At last the moment came to start the engines. Candy pushed aside all distractions and focused on the job at hand. Though she’d flown hundreds of times before, Candy felt her heart in her throat as Darren released the brake and applied power to accelerate down the runway. She knew how important this part was. The engines were at maximum power to lift the aircraft. The roar of the engines, coupled with Darren’s voice as he spoke with the air traffic controllers, made things all the more exciting.

  At just the right moment, Darren pulled back the yoke, lifting the nose of the plane. She leaned back against her seat, marveling at his calm assuredness. Seconds after takeoff, he retracted the landing gear. Candy looked for the three green landing-gear lights on the instrument panel to go off. There. Done.

  The aircraft began to climb to its cruising altitude. This process took several minutes, but Candy didn’t breathe a word. She knew the drill. Other than radio calls and checklists, they needed to keep a sterile cockpit. This was all too exciting to interrupt with conversation, anyway. Thank You, Lord. I’m here! In the cockpit of an Eastway plane, copiloting. I’m living my dream. How can I ever thank You? There were no words to describe how she felt in this moment.

  When Darren took the intercom in hand to speak to the passengers over the PA, she listened to his spiel. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain, Darren Furst.” He stopped short of saying the rest, glancing her way with a shrug. A feeling of pure shame washed over her. Her words about his comedic one-liner must’ve intimidated him. Now he didn’t feel free to be himself. Candy swallowed hard. Sorry about that, Lord. I’ll make it up to him, I promise.

  Once they’d reached their cruising altitude, Candy felt relaxed enough for a little small talk.

  “Great work, Captain.” She gave Darren a smile, hoping to bring the tension in the cockpit down a little.

  “Thanks.” He nodded in her direction. “I appreciate your help.”

  “That’s what they pay me to do.” That’s what they pay me to do. Wow. She marveled at the fact that God had truly answered her prayers and given her the job of her dreams. Before, it had all seemed such a lofty goal. Flying. Like some elusive thing a child would say: One day, I’m going to fly up above the clouds!

  “Cotton Candy, you’ve got your head in the clouds again,” she whispered.

  “Pardon?” Darren looked at her, his brow wrinkled. “Did you say something?”

  “Oh, I just. . .” She looked at him with a smile. “Just something my dad used to say. He always thought I had my head in the clouds when I was a kid.”

  “Looks like you still do.” He flashed a winning smile as he gestured to the clouds outside.

  “Mm-hmm.” Candy forced her attention to the instrument panel, where she busied herself. Still, she had a hard time containing the smile that tried to creep up.

  The rest of the flight went smoothly. In fact, the time seemed to pass too fast. Candy did well with her part. And she soon entered into easy conversation with Darren. He was all business on takeoff, but once that plane was safely in the air, his comfort level seemed to improve.

  Less than an hour later, they approached Chicago’s busy O’Hare airport. To date, Candy had only seen this airport from a passenger’s point of view. She’d certainly never analyzed the runways with a pilot’s eye before.

  The control tower directed their aircraft to land into the wind to bring down the ground speed. In spite of some crosswinds, Darren managed to land with skill and precision. He pulled back on the throttles, raised the spoilers to disrupt airflow over the wings, and reversed the thrust of the engines while applying the brakes. Wow. Nice job.

  Darren picked up the intercom to speak to the passengers. He gave the usual thank-you-for-flying-with-us spiel, then turned to Candy and quirked a brow before adding, “We’d like to ask that you remain seated until we reach the gate, ladies and gentlemen. To my knowledge, no Eastway passenger ever beat the plane to the gate.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. Thank goodness. He’s himself again.

  Within minutes they’d taxied into their parking bay. After shutting things down, Darren turned to her. “Let’s go say good-bye to our passengers.” He rose, then extended his hand to help her stand. Something about the feel of his hand in hers sent a feeling of warmth rushing through her.

  She tagged along behind him as they joined Brooke and the rest of the crew to wave good-bye to their passengers.

  “Great flight, Cap’n,” Craig said, when the last of the passengers left.

  “And great flight to you, too.” Brooke gave Candy an admiring look. “How did it feel, being in the cockpit?”

  “Wonderful.” Should she add that being there with Darren gave her the security she needed to make it through her first Eastway flight?

  “Now we get to turn around and do it all over again.” Brooke glanced at her watch. “We’ll depart for Newark in less than an hour. Should arrive just before six. Anyone up to dinner at DiMarco’s after? Best Italian food in Newark.”

  “Italian food?” Candy shrugged. “My personal favorite.”

  Darren looked her way with a smile. “If you’re in, I’m in.”

  Oh yeah, I’m in all right.

  “Well then, when we get to Newark, we’ll fly this coop.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. . .an invitation, perhaps?

  “Mm-hmm.” With this man at the helm, she might just be willing to fly to the moon.

  EIGHT

  At six forty-five that same evening, Candy found herself seated around a table at DiMarco’s Italian restaurant with several fellow employees—Brooke, Shawneda, Darren, and a friend of Shawneda’s named Teresa. The delicious smell of garlic hung in the air, and everywhere she looked, people dined on pizza, pasta, and other goodies.

  Glancing at her new friends, she had to admit, there was a certain camaraderie here, one she loved already. These people were truly becoming family. . .and in such a short time. And now, as they sat with menus in hand, Candy marveled at the fact that she’d only known them weeks and not years.

  “I’m so glad you like Italian food,” Brooke said, leaning her way. “I can’t live without it. It’s in the Antonelli blood.”

  “Oh, I love it.” Candy nodded, eyeing a plate of pasta as the waiter carried it by. “I’m a Carini, after all. Grew up in a fairly traditional Italian family.”

  “Really?” Darren looked her way. “So, what are yo
u going to order? I think I’m going to have the spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “Just like a guy.” Shawneda rolled her eyes. “You could eat spaghetti any night of the week, and you order it in a restaurant? C’mon. Live dangerously. Climb out of the box. Order something different for a change.”

  “Different?” He looked at her, perplexed. “But. . .I like spaghetti.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Candy shrugged. “But I’ll bet the meatballs aren’t as good as my mom’s.”

  Darren gave her an inquisitive look. “So, your mom is a good cook?”

  “Oh, the best.” Candy smiled as she thought about the many ways her mother excelled above most other moms she knew. “You name it, she can make it. Main course, desserts, and you should see her ice cream cakes. She sells a lot of those at the store.”

  “Wow, she sounds great.”

  “Oh, she is. I truly think she’s one of the biggest blessings in my life. And she’s one of those women who’s great at everything. Pop says she’s got the Midas touch. But then again, he’s always been the first one to sing her praises. I love it.”

  “Ah.”

  His expression shifted from interest to something. . .almost sad. Candy couldn’t put her finger on it. Had she said something wrong? “So, tell me about your mom. Is she a good cook?”

  “I guess so, but she never really enjoyed cooking, and I guess it showed in the food. It was good, don’t get me wrong. Just not. . .” He paused and shook his head. Clearly, he did not want to be talking about this. “Anyway, our dinner table experiences weren’t the best in town. But it didn’t have a lot to do with the food.”

  Candy quickly changed the direction of the conversation. “Well, I’m not great in the kitchen, either. I don’t mind admitting it. I’ve tried my hand at cooking, but I’ve burned half the stuff I attempted. Maybe I’ll get better in time.”

  “You just need the right man to cook for.”