his estimation.”
“It’s not your fault the plane crashed.”
“To him? Yes it will be. In his opinion, I can do nothing right.”
Mac hit the button to put the phone on speaker. “Maybe I can help defuse the situation. I promise not to open my mouth unless necessary.”
Slowly Sage dialed, but disconnected before she tapped in the final number. She stared across the room, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, hands clutching the receiver so tightly her knuckles were white. Mac laid his hand over hers, squeezing gently, staring intently until her eyes met his. His message that everything would be all right, that he was there to support her, steadied her trembling hands. She punched in the numbers quickly.
“Hello. Sheldon Burnett here.” The call was answered brusquely.
“Hi, Dad. Did I wake you?”
“Sage. What have you done now?” the resigned tone of voice not welcoming.
“Why do you ask that? Couldn’t I be calling just to say hi and how are you? To find out when you might be coming home so we could have dinner together?”
“I thought I squelched those nuisance calls years ago. You’re not that five year old anymore who used to sneak away from her nanny to call. After that call we received a couple weeks ago when you had the audacity to land in the hospital and almost screwed up our plans, what do you expect me to think?”
“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” she mumbled. She could feel the impenetrable wall raising up around her, closing her off from him. “You remember your Diamond D jet? Well, it is no more.”
“What the hell did you do to my plane, Sage?” screamed her father, interrupting her explanation. She could hear another screech and was sure it was her mother gearing up for her onslaught.
“I crashed it into the side of a mountain.” She heard the fatalistic sigh on the other end of the line.
“Well, it couldn’t be that bad. You’re alive. Why were you flying mine in the first place? You have your own. Was this another one of your stunts to impress your so-called friends?” She could hear his anger building and knew he was about to go off into one of his debasing tirades.
“Believe me, Dad, the plane can’t be fixed. It was insured, so you haven’t lost anything.” She jumped in to forestall him.
“And, sir, it took a great deal of skill and guts to belly-land that thing in the narrow space she had available.”
Sage looked at Mac.
“Who’s that? Where are you?” her father asked suspiciously.
“I’m Callum MacLain at the Elm Creek Ranch in Montana. She crashed on our mountain during a blizzard.”
“What were you thinking, Sage? Or were you? You’ve never flown in that type of weather.”
“Weather report in San Francisco didn’t mention any storms. I tried to get above the storm, but ice built up on the wings too quickly.”
“Why didn’t you use the deicers?” his tone suggesting she was too stupid.
“Because you never had them installed. You didn’t think they were a necessity,” was her sharp rejoinder.
“Well, I’ll have Bill contact the insurance company so they can get right on it,” he backed down.
“Be a couple months until they can get to the site,” interjected Mac. “The plane is sitting under a good five feet of snow.”
“I’ll be sure to tell them that. I have an early meeting in the A.M., so I’ve got to go.” It was easy to tell he didn’t want to prolong the conversation.
Covering the phone with her hand, Sage whispered bitterly, “Watch this. You think he was irate? This will push his blood pressure through the roof.” She uncovered the phone. “Where’s your meeting, Dad?”
“We’re in the Florida Keys. Why?”
“I could grab a flight out tonight and meet you. Don’t you think it’s about time you brought me on board so I can take over when you retire?” They could hear sputtering on the other end like someone choking.
“You will never take over this company, Sage,” was growled with
“It’s not your fault the plane crashed.”
“To him? Yes it will be. In his opinion, I can do nothing right.”
Mac hit the button to put the phone on speaker. “Maybe I can help defuse the situation. I promise not to open my mouth unless necessary.”
Slowly Sage dialed, but disconnected before she tapped in the final number. She stared across the room, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, hands clutching the receiver so tightly her knuckles were white. Mac laid his hand over hers, squeezing gently, staring intently until her eyes met his. His message that everything would be all right, that he was there to support her, steadied her trembling hands. She punched in the numbers quickly.
“Hello. Sheldon Burnett here.” The call was answered brusquely.
“Hi, Dad. Did I wake you?”
“Sage. What have you done now?” the resigned tone of voice not welcoming.
“Why do you ask that? Couldn’t I be calling just to say hi and how are you? To find out when you might be coming home so we could have dinner together?”
“I thought I squelched those nuisance calls years ago. You’re not that five year old anymore who used to sneak away from her nanny to call. After that call we received a couple weeks ago when you had the audacity to land in the hospital and almost screwed up our plans, what do you expect me to think?”
“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” she mumbled. She could feel the impenetrable wall raising up around her, closing her off from him. “You remember your Diamond D jet? Well, it is no more.”
“What the hell did you do to my plane, Sage?” screamed her father, interrupting her explanation. She could hear another screech and was sure it was her mother gearing up for her onslaught.
“I crashed it into the side of a mountain.” She heard the fatalistic sigh on the other end of the line.
“Well, it couldn’t be that bad. You’re alive. Why were you flying mine in the first place? You have your own. Was this another one of your stunts to impress your so-called friends?” She could hear his anger building and knew he was about to go off into one of his debasing tirades.
“Believe me, Dad, the plane can’t be fixed. It was insured, so you haven’t lost anything.” She jumped in to forestall him.
“And, sir, it took a great deal of skill and guts to belly-land that thing in the narrow space she had available.”
Sage looked at Mac.
“Who’s that? Where are you?” her father asked suspiciously.
“I’m Callum MacLain at the Elm Creek Ranch in Montana. She crashed on our mountain during a blizzard.”
“What were you thinking, Sage? Or were you? You’ve never flown in that type of weather.”
“Weather report in San Francisco didn’t mention any storms. I tried to get above the storm, but ice built up on the wings too quickly.”
“Why didn’t you use the deicers?” his tone suggesting she was too stupid.
“Because you never had them installed. You didn’t think they were a necessity,” was her sharp rejoinder.
“Well, I’ll have Bill contact the insurance company so they can get right on it,” he backed down.
“Be a couple months until they can get to the site,” interjected Mac. “The plane is sitting under a good five feet of snow.”
“I’ll be sure to tell them that. I have an early meeting in the A.M., so I’ve got to go.” It was easy to tell he didn’t want to prolong the conversation.
Covering the phone with her hand, Sage whispered bitterly, “Watch this. You think he was irate? This will push his blood pressure through the roof.” She uncovered the phone. “Where’s your meeting, Dad?”
“We’re in the Florida Keys. Why?”
“I could grab a flight out tonight and meet you. Don’t you think it’s about time you brought me on board so I can take over when you retire?” They could hear sputtering on the other end like someone choking.
“You will never take over this company, Sage,” was growled with
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