After all the fuss, Brock encouraged Cora to sit in the back seats of the plane with him and let the cameraman sit up front. There would be no distracted pilots, only the passengers.
Brock wasn’t distracted by the breathtaking view of the Pacific coastline, or the downtown skyline. He might have been a little starstruck from flying close enough to reach out and touch the Hollywood sign. But he was mostly distracted by the beautiful girl resting her hand on his knee.
Why me? she’d asked. What was it about Cora that was so intriguing? It wasn’t that she knew his true identity, because he had liked her before she figured it out. It wasn’t that she was gorgeous, although she was. She was unique, for sure.
When she had removed those ridiculous high heels and padded across the driveway in bare feet, he wanted to sweep her up into his arms and carry her the rest of the way into the house.
Her career choices were unexpected. She was a drone operator, a commercial pilot, and an agricultural crop analyst. Brock couldn’t wrap his mind around this adorable, feminine girl working at such masculine jobs. Shows what he knew.
Strong. Confident. Cora wasn’t afraid to be herself, whoever that was. Brock looked forward to peeling back the layers of her personality and learning what made her tick.
“Look—” Cora pointed out the window. “The Santa Monica Pier. We should go there.”
“I think I could make that arrangement,” Brock said. He was ready to get out of this plane with its confinement and lack of privacy. Not that they’d have any privacy the whole time they were dating, with cameras following them around. But the plane was cramped and stuffy and difficult to talk to one another because of the headsets.
He wanted to ask her the really deep questions, but also learn more about her education and career, her family and friends. He wanted to watch her operate a drone and have her explain the details of the aerial imagery created by the onboard camera. He wanted to know everything about her.
Why her? He couldn’t vocalize the reasons without sounding sappy. She was special. She was Cora.
“Can we head back?” Brock asked the pilot. “The lady wants to go to Santa Monica Pier.”
“What the lady wants, the lady gets,” the pilot said, banking the little plane back toward the airport.
Brock hoped the lady wanted him, because he wanted her.