Veronica Delany had been on vacation for over two weeks and it had unfortunately come to an end. Two weeks of massages, beach relaxation, workouts, drinks at the bar, flirting with other vacationers was exactly what she needed. Cabo San Lucas shimmered behind her as the jet took off for its one-stop flight to Chicago. Veronica had not taken off two weeks straight for well over five years, and it was a perfect respite from her position as CEO for a small but booming tech company that she started six years ago.
Chicago weather will kill her tan in less than a month with the snow and gloom of winter. But for those thirty days, she will relish the sexy tan lines that map out the tiny and flirty bikini she was wearing during most of the trip - soaking in the sun and the beach like a succulent plant gulps the tiniest morsels of humidity in the air to feed its photosynthetic magic.
Veronica is smart, she's shrewd and doesn't take shit from anyone. She wasn't just handed the keys to a business with a silver spoon in her mouth. She built her company as employee number one, and she's not just a 'business major'. She has a background in coding (computer programming), but she comes from a long line of entrepreneurs. Her company, BeeMatrixed, took off within the first three years after only a single round of investments from local private equity firms in the Chicago area.
Her website and product uses artificial intelligence to match companies based on their market strength, sector and needs. It is essentially the Tinder of the business world, as it helps small and medium businesses find vendors and customers without having to cold call or even do traditional advertising. Veronica's genius comes from her ability to almost read the minds of others and find out what they want before they themselves even know it. You could call her a people pleaser, but she does it for profits, not to feed some internal insecurity due to low self-esteem.
Her company is already worth over ten million if sold on the market today, and her business sense during the first round of investing left her still with over eighty percent equity in the company. She's become a powerful figure in her business circles, and everything that could go well is going well in her life.
She has just had to fire her in-house general counsel and is in the process of interviewing candidates. She hated to do it, but this one candidate, Ben Mercurio, could interview on the Sunday she returned from Cabo, today. He would not be available until next month if she couldn't meet him today; she didn't have that kind of time and his background and references were perfect.
Against her better judgment, she let one of her admins book the vacation flights, and no matter how many times Veronica said "nonstop", it apparently fell on deaf ears. Her Jet from Cabo had a layover in Dallas for about an hour. So incredibly annoying. Thankfully, the deplaning had been uneventful and quick, she was able to make a trip to the restroom, grab a coffee and was back and boarded within forty-five minutes. Any longer and she would have given an earful to the assistant who booked her on these airborne cattle cars. Next time, she inner monologues, I'm dropping the 20k to fly private. She just can't escape the frugal ways of her parents, and still flies commercial, but this really was the last straw - she owes it to herself, especially for vacations.
As she boarded the next jet to Chicago O'Hare, with the first zone of boarders, she made her way back to window seat 5F, in the first class cabin, and thankfully, her assistant got one thing right and paid extra to have the two seats to her left empty on all four flights. As she passed row four, she glanced at the seated passengers, as one does, and noticed a man that fit the description and looked like her upcoming interviewee, Ben M-something. This was in the forefront of her mind because before boarding in Cabo, she had reviewed the scouting report on this Ben guy and saw his picture just a few hours ago. Wouldn't that be funny, she thought to herself. He did not look up at her, or anyone else, and appeared to be deeply focused on whatever appeared on his laptop screen. He was much more handsome and intense-looking than he was in the "scouting report" photos and resume material sent by her assistant. She was very careful to not pay any more attention to him than any other of her fellow travelers. She did remember that he was flying in from Dallas, so it's really not that much of a coincidence; but to be seated right behind him.....that's something. This could be an interesting 'in the wild' observation if it is him.
He was wearing a navy blue suit with a red tie with blue diamonds and matching red pocket square, had light colored hair, a bit of a five o'clock shadow on his face, but it was hardly noticeable because his facial hair matched the blond on his head. He didn't quite look like a California surfer, but he was well on his way.
She shuffled her way into 5F, and noticed at least a few men doing their very best to discreetly side-eye her up as she made her way across the seats. She was used to it. Veronica was five foot seven inches, athletic but with voluptuous curves, and long crimson colored hair. She was striking in every category that a man keeps track of.
Veronica situated herself in her window seat, spread out her carry on small bag to her left, removed her blanket and broken doughnut shaped neck pillow and gazed out of her window at the clear blue Texas sky. She pulled out a book that she bought on the way to Cabo, realized she only made it four pages in, and set it aside - knowing she probably would never grab the book again. She flipped open her laptop to re-check the flight time and perhaps take a quick look at her 6pm interviewee's picture to see if Mr. Blond in 4F was in fact her subject. She confirmed her flight time of two hours and twenty-three minutes from wheels up to wheels down, and quickly launched her company's cloud-based email program.
She heard the pre-flight emergency procedures drone on in the background, but then her ears perked up to know, once again, that in the unlikely event of a water landing, there is an inflatable vest under her seat. I'm so comforted now, she darkly jokes inside. She felt the slight jerk of the pushback tug doing its discreet job of wheeling the jet into position. As the jet inch-wormed backwards not of its own accord, she heard the whirr of the two huge Pratt and Whitney jet engines do their sci-fi-sounding startup sequence, one at a time. She isn't sure why the engines are so fascinating, but the lengthy and slow process that apparently is needed just to start these engines, as opposed to pressing a button and her car engine immediately comes to life, indicates a delicate buildup of speed, power and pressure, with precision instruments, perfectly machined components and probably high end lubrication that can withstand tremendous pressure and heat.
As she felt the pilot feed some fuel to the powerful turbofans, the tiniest spooling up of the dual Pratt and Whitneys that resulted in a lurch forward portended so much unleashed power that she marveled. As she thought about this, she thought about how analogous the untapped power of a jet engine is a fair comparison to her sex drive and her lust for bondage situations. It's my only imperfection, she thinks as the Jet taxied towards the runway. If I could somehow shut this shit off in my head, I could focus on my work and not be distracted at all. She then began searching through her prior emails for the photo of her interviewee to confirm her suspicion that she was right behind him.
Ben Mercurio has been practicing law for over fifteen years now. He has had a successful career at three separate law firms, but he is a bit tired of the partner-track rat race that requires him running a gauntlet of thankless and huge billable hour requirements. It's left him little time to focus on finding a woman that suits him, and has relegated his life to countless "first dates".
