Author's Note: This story is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Although I indicated in "Tutored in Temptation - Part 4" that I would try and write shorter stories, this was one that I had worked on earlier but hadn't published. I've published this Part here in its full length but future Parts will be shorter for improved readability.
Other than the references to Air Nordland, this story will be set in the "real" world and will try to incorporate as much of the feedback, suggestions and requests that I've received from readers over the past several months.
As always, all comments and feedback are welcomed.
HF
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The dull hum of the Air Nordland B787's engines blended into the background as Charlotte Howard flipped through the pages of her meeting notes. The blonde-haired corporate executive sat in a business-class window seat, glancing occasionally out at the inky sky, where no stars were visible through the cloud cover. I just hope it's not too bumpy, she thought. The captain had made an announcement, not long after their departure an hour or so earlier from New York, that it was likely to be a bumpy flight through to London. Something about a weather system, she recalled. Weather wasn't her strong suit; she had an app for that on her phone.
International Strategy. That was her strong suit. As the Executive Director for International Strategy with Everett Consulting Group, a major management consulting firm based in London, she had spent the best part of the last ten years helping international corporations with their business transformations.
Hyde Industries, a major US manufacturing company had engaged Everett to restructure its global operations. It was a major project for the consulting firm and one that Charlotte had been instrumental in winning. Now she was leading the delivery team. With a sigh, she reflected that it sounded better on paper than it did in real life -- endless meetings, presentations, international travel, long hours away from her family. I wonder if it's all worth it, she thought to herself.
At least the people she worked with were good -- even if the workload wasn't as attractive. For this series of meetings, she'd brought Daniel along, his knowledge of business strategy was unparalleled in Everett, and they had worked together on this project for the last several months. She turned her attention back to her notes, glancing briefly at the Black man sitting next to her.
Daniel Richards had his headphones in, seemingly engrossed in an in-flight movie. His tall, dark frame was relaxed in the seat, his broad shoulders slightly angled toward her, as if even in relaxation, he couldn't help but dominate the space. Even with business class seats, I guess it's hard to get comfortable for someone his size, she thought.
At 5'7", Charlotte paled in comparison to Daniel's 6'2" frame -- but that was not the only way the pair contrasted with each other. Charlotte's ancestry, as evidenced by her long, blonde hair, blue eyes and fair, almost alabaster, skin that was covered by a light smattering of freckles on her shoulders and upper arms, was English -- her family tracing their heritage to both England and Ireland. Meanwhile, Daniel was Afro-Caribbean, that ancestry was reflected in his dark brown skin and strong features. Despite his parents emigrating from Jamaica, Daniel had been born in the UK but still retained a strong cultural connection to his ethnic heritage.
Charlotte shifted in her seat, trying to focus on the notes from their last meeting in New York, as she crossed her nylon-covered legs under her pencil skirt. The project they'd been working on for months was gone exceptionally well, but there was always a part of her that felt the need to double-check everything. She sighed quietly, pulling her cardigan tighter around her body. The air-conditioning on planes always felt just a bit too cold. They'd gone directly to the airport from their last meeting, Charlotte swapping her tailored suit jacket for the cardigan to be more comfortable on the flight.
She cast a sidelong glance at Daniel. He hadn't said much since they boarded the plane at JFK two hours earlier, a stark contrast to the easy, playful banter that had developed between them over the past few months. Maybe he was tired, or maybe, like her, he was processing the end of this intense work cycle. Maybe he just wants to catch up on the back catalogue of movies...
But Charlotte knew there was more to it, despite what she told herself. There was a tension between them -- a current that had been building since the early days of their collaboration. It had started innocently enough. Little compliments, shared smiles over coffee, moments of unspoken understanding in meetings. But recently, it had shifted, evolved into something more... charged. The way his gaze would linger just a second too long when they spoke, the accidental brushes of their hands, the easy flirtation in the quiet moments between work. All of it indicated something more. Something under the surface that threatened to explode forth if the circumstances allowed.
Charlotte's eyes drifted over Daniel's profile again. He was handsome -- undeniably so. His dark skin, strong jawline, the way his fitted business shirt outlined his athletic physique, and that air of quiet confidence he carried everywhere made him stand out in every room they entered. But beyond the physical, it was his intelligence, the way he could command a meeting without raising his voice, that she found magnetic. And that laugh -- deep and warm -- had a way of disarming her when she least expected it.
She caught herself staring and quickly looked back at her notes, her heart giving a little flutter. Stop it, Charlie! This is ridiculous, she told herself. I'm a married woman. I have two kids, a life, responsibilities. Besides... there are the... other... aspects. She frowned as she looked at her notebook. Unlike her, Daniel was Black. This aspect alone sometimes made her heart race when she thought about him.
It wasn't as if Charlotte considered herself was racist in any traditional sense of the word, it was just that she'd never explored any relationships outside of her own world, her own culture and ethnic group. Although she had grown up in a fairly liberal environment, Charlotte had never actively sought a relationship with someone who wasn't like her. Her husband, Tom, and the several boyfriends she had before she met him had all been very much like her; middle-class, educated, White.
She cut a figure of a modern British woman, embodying a blend of both traditional and contemporary values she had inherited from both her parents as well as her professional, contemporary work environment. Coming from a relatively well-off family, she had been exposed to the very best opportunities in life, but had always sought to remain grounded and practical, something she wanted to pass on to her children. She had embraced the opportunities offered to her as well as the challenges that professional working mothers faced in UK society. Fortunately, she had found in her husband someone who supported her and worked with her. They had formed a strong team by which to raise their family.
Tom, with his solid build, brown hair, hazel eyes and clean-cut face, was a steady, practical man, clearly devoted to their family. A senior project manager with a construction firm based in central London, his work was demanding, but flexible enough to cater to their young family while Charlotte was away with her work. In their early years at least, their children, Emma and Jack, were the centre of her world and she was determined to be the best possible mother for them.
After Jack had been born four years earlier, Tom and she had discussed the idea of having more children, but with her career really starting to take off at that stage, they had decided that two was a perfect number. Though Charlotte suspected he would have liked to have had more, Tom had gone along with the decision, even as far as having a vasectomy. This had freed her up from the need to remain on the pill, a necessary evil earlier in their marriage, but something she had always been concerned about due to the impact of the hormones on her body.
Looking after two young children as well as juggling the demands of a professional career had been challenging for Charlotte. Tom had been a great help, but she realised the more he'd helped, the more she'd poured herself into her job. The increasing demands of her work, the late nights in the office, her frequent absences, all of it had taken a toll on their marriage. She had prioritised Emma and Jack over intimacy with Tom, both of them falling into a comfortable routine of school pick-ups, gym classes, work meetings and dance sessions -- all the hallmarks of an affluent, middle-class life.
But now, there was something about Daniel that stirred something inside her, something she hadn't felt in a long time. Not with Tom, at least not recently. She loved her husband, but they had allowed their marriage to fall into a predictable, comfortable rhythm. Having been married to him for ten years, it was safe, but it wasn't exciting anymore. With Daniel, though... there was excitement. And that, Charlotte realised, terrified her more than she cared to admit.