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I swallowed the remaining candy shards. “Um. Yes. I think so,” I said, trying to disguise the terror<br />

in my voice.<br />

“An old friend of mine once said that a fear uncovered is no longer a fear. It’s an opportunity for a<br />

decision. Once you see how a plane operates, once you get an intimate look at all the buttons and<br />

levers, you can decide to end your fear of flying. Captain Nathan will be all too happy to help you.”<br />

She was quoting Matilda! Eileen was one of us. She gave me her hand, and practically had to pull<br />

me to my feet because my legs were rigid with terror.<br />

“There. See? That wasn’t so bad.”<br />

We made it down the short aisle. Standing in front of the cockpit door, she gave three quick knocks.<br />

A second later, a sandy-haired young man with thick glasses and a space between his front teeth<br />

poked his head out. Oh dear. I hated to admit that my shallow Southern heart sank, though I politely<br />

pulled my grin a little wider, reminding myself what the C in S.E.C.R.E.T. stood for. If my fantasy<br />

man wasn’t … compelling, I didn’t have to go through with the fantasy.<br />

“Is this our lovely visitor?” he asked with a lisp. Oh dear.<br />

“Yes,” the flight attendant said. “Miss Dauphine Mason, this is our multitalented First Officer Friar.<br />

Miss Mason is keen to see what goes on in here. It might help her with her fear of flying.”<br />

“Ah, yes. Dispel the mystery and the fear disperses. That’s Captain Nathan’s specialty. He can<br />

show you around while I stretch my legs. Three’s a crowd in here! Good luck!”<br />

After enunciating all those s’s, First Officer Friar made a beeline to the back of the plane. Out the<br />

window in front was a dark sky; below, nothing but black water. The high whine of the engines<br />

masked the screams in my own head as my legs now turned to cement. Eileen nudged me through the<br />

narrow doorway.<br />

“I’ll be back in a little while,” she said, looking at her watch. “Enjoy your flying lesson.”<br />

She shut the door behind her.<br />

The pilot sat silhouetted in the window. The only thing I could see above the seat was the back of<br />

his head. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, only his white shirt, the muscles on his arms apparent beneath<br />

his sleeves as he flicked a number of switches from left to right on a panel in front of him. Thankfully,<br />

the white noise drowned out my pounding heart.<br />

“Be with you in a moment, Dauphine. I just want to make sure autopilot’s running smoothly. A robot<br />

takes over for most of the flight from now on. A very smart one.”<br />

There it was. That accent again. The man from Security! The man with the sexy Cockney accent!<br />

The air left my chest and the pressure squeezed my lungs. Feeling tantalized and terrified at that same<br />

time had a bad effect on my stomach. I slapped both hands on the curved walls of the cockpit to<br />

steady myself as the plane rose and straightened. The pilot faced a wall of lights and levers that<br />

seemed to blink and shift on their own. Then he finally turned his chair around, aviators off, dark eyes<br />

on me. I gasped.<br />

“Don’t worry, we’re on automatic, but we’re not going to be alone in here for long, so I apologize<br />

ahead of time for the furtive nature of our interlude,” he said, loosening the top button of his uniform.<br />

“But I need to know, before we continue with our tutorial on the safety of flight: Do you accept the<br />

Step, Miss Mason?”<br />

I couldn’t believe this was happening.<br />

“Here? Now?”<br />

“Yes. Here and now. Trust me when I say I can help you with your fear of flying. And a few other<br />

things too, I suspect,” he said, leaning back into the plush leather of his pilot seat, taking me in from<br />

bottom to top.

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