Flying High

9. Boss Lady

(Breeze POV)

I wake early the next morning with an eagerness and anticipation that I hadn’t felt in years. Working and traveling with a large group of men – attractive men – should have left me feeling anxious; but it didn’t. I’ve often been asked why I chose my current occupation:

When I first picked up a camera, it was for a class – one that I took simply to get an easy “A”. The class led me to find one of the few hobbies I had as a teen and eventually, my only real passion in life. I’ve always been the type of person who dove head first into a new project and this was no exception.

Working in a dark room, watching the stills come to life – it excited me and opened the door to a whole new world – one that I had never truly seen.

My early works were landscapes; mainly fields with a few cows. One assignment that my teacher gave me was to capture something breathtaking – I knew cows in a field would never do and fifty percent of my grade was riding on the photo. That’s where sports photograph comes in.

It was over Christmas break in Montreal; I had family there and dad thought it would be a great idea to visit them for the holidays. I had been out with my cousins all day trying, and failing, to skate. It was getting dark as we readied for the trek back to the house when movement at the other end of the pond caught my eye.

A young man, had glided onto the ice. He moved with a grace that I had never witnessed before – it made my sad attempts look like a flailing fish. The snow was gently falling, the stars twinkling as the full moon rose behind my mystery man. He skated in circles, his blades catching the light and I could hear the crisp sound as the sharp edges cut into the frozen surface.

I pulled my camera out of the bag I carried everywhere and snapped a photo of the man. Not only did I get my “A” but my teacher entered the photo in an amateur contest and won first prize.
The photo sits in my home office now – I had several offers from prospective buyers but I could never part with the still.

I never learned the identity of the mystery man but he sparked something that day; a love for photography and a hunger to capture the beauty of athletes in their natural elements.

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I often think about that day and this cheery morning is no exception. Pulling up the airport gate, I show my badge and the guard directs me to the correct parking area. I’m one of the few who have arrived early so I decide to wait in my car – the air has a bite to it and I don’t want to wait out in the cold.
I’m looking over the team roster that I had printed out, when a knock on the window startles me. Looking up, I meet a pair of navy blue eyes and a very happy smile.

“Good morning Breeze. How are we today?” the happy-go-lucky attitude is refreshing.
I smile back, “Good morning Maxime. I’m well; just ready to get on the road.”

“Please, call me Max,” Max says as he steps back so I can exit my car, “What do you have there?” the question is pointed at my roster print.

I blush, thankfully the brisk wind had already brought color to my cheeks, “It’s the roster,” I admit, “I’m afraid I don’t know any of you.”

“Ouch,” Max fawns hurt as we make our way to the plane steps, “Not a Flyers fan?”

“More like, not a hockey fan. Football reigns supreme at the Jones’ residence,” I tell my new friend.

“You wound me, mademoiselle. Sit with me and tell me why hockey isn’t good enough,” Max’s eyes are full of playfulness when he says this.

He escorts me half way down the aisle, guiding me into the apparent appropriate row – good thing I didn’t want to sit alone. He takes my carry-on and places it in the overhead for me, my sling settles next to my feet.

“Now,” Max starts as he settles into his seat, “Why aren’t you a hockey fan?”
“I’m from Tennessee – Football is life,” is the only explanation I offer.

Max takes a moment to ponder this, “Okay; but, Nashville has the Predators – and Texas and Florida both have teams.”

“True,” I say, “And Mississippi had an ECHL team for a few years if you want to add another team to the region; but daddy had football on every Sunday. I wasn’t really exposed to a lot of hockey growing up.”

Max looks surprised, “So are both of your parents from Tennessee then?” he ask me.

I laugh, “No actually. My dad is but mom is from Mississauga originally. She and dad met when he was on vacation – apparently he had a buddy from the area. My Uncle lives in Montreal now with his family. He moved after my grandparents passed. Sorry, that’s too much information,” I let out a nervous laugh – rambling is a bad habit of mine.

Max gives me a bemused look, “So really you’re half Canadian; and you’re Canadian family failed to make you a hockey fan.”

“Yeah I guess so. Though, there is a certain level of grace and finesse that has always drawn me to the sport,” I can feel the heat rising to my face again, “What?” I ask when I realize that Max is just staring at me.

He shakes his head, “You are an interesting woman,” his statement is serious and I’m struck by the honesty behind the words.

Just then the captain’s voice breaks over the intercom, pulling us from our conversation. Max and I both settle into our seats as the plane takes off.

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(Max’s POV)

The conversation between Breeze and I stays light after takeoff; soon though, she was called to the back of the plane to go over some digital prints – her words not mine. I stay in my seat, trying to doze when a body sinks next to me.

“Soooo….. How’s it going?” Claude’s voice disturbs my napping attempt.
“Well, I was almost asleep that time; until this ugly redheaded thing decided to sit next to me,” I chirp my captain.

He laughs, “What’s going on with you and Breeze? Are you getting in?”
I swear he is a child sometimes, “No I’m not ‘getting in’ as you so eloquently put it. We were having a normal conversation asshole.”

Claude holds his hands up in defense, “Hey, easy. Just needed to know something so I can report back to boss lady.”

“Cassidy?” I question.

“You know it,” Claude laughs and moves from the seat; I groan, thinking about all the trouble that could arise if the two redheads decide to play match maker. On second thought…..I don’t want to think about that.