Flight to Paradise (Flight Trilogy, Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

you.”
    “I knew it!”
    “She hated herself for doing it but felt trapped. The poor little thing was so confused. But there was no doubt she loved you more than life itself. She said she would do anything to take back that night. That’s when I told her not to give up, that you would understand. She decided to write you every day. But you know, it takes two to keep a relationship alive and you weren’t exactly the best at writing.”
    “You don’t have to rub it in, but in my defense, they were busting my chops. I barely had time to brush my teeth.”
    “Ryan, you could have—”
    “Okay, mom, I know. I blew it…should’ve written her more…I screwed up. Nothing I can do now.”
    “Why don’t you write her now? She knows you're in California. I think it would be nice. I know she would love to hear from you.” A moment of silence followed.
    Ryan shook his head. “She’s probably dating someone…might even be engaged.”
    “Don’t you think she would have told me? And besides, what does it matter if she is dating someone?”
    “Do you have her number?”
    “No. We agreed not to call, only write, because I really can’t afford long distance, and I don’t want her wasting her money. Let me give you her address.”
    He grabbed a notepad and a pen. “What is it?” He scribbled it down, then said good-bye.
    The thought of talking to her excited him. He remembered the note she slipped in his pocket that night:
    In time , we will know if it’s meant to be .
    He still had it somewhere. Staring down at the white paper, he wrote:
    Dear Keri ,
    His mind went blank.
    What do I say ? How do I start ? Do I tell her I still love her ? How about : Remember when you dumped me ? Write something — anything .
    After five crumpled pieces of paper, he finally had something.
    Friday , May 13 , 1983
    Keri ,
    It’s been a long time . I learned from mom you're living in Florida . She tells me you're a flight attendant . Sounds exciting . I also hope to be hired by the airlines , once I complete my commitment to the Navy . Probably next summer .
    The Navy keeps me busy and out of touch with everyone . Even mom complains . I’m ready for a change .
    Maybe we can talk sometime and do some catching up . Mom didn’t have your number . Mine is 619 - 231 - 1515 . Please give me a call or write . I'm living with a Navy buddy in Del Mar , a small beach community north of San Diego .
    He stopped.
    How should I sign it ? Love , Ryan , or just Ryan ? Love is too much . How about sincerely ? No . Just put Ryan , then wait and see how she signs hers when she writes back — if she writes back .
    He signed the letter: Ryan.
    As he licked the stamp, he heard the condo door close. “What’s up, buddy?” Rex called, as he made a beeline for the fridge.
    Rex Dean was the perfect poster boy for a Southern California travel magazine: blond, tanned, and athletic-looking. Raised in an upper-class family in the prestigious La Jolla, near San Diego, and a graduate of the University of Southern California, Rex was a member of a select group of persnickety Southern California families who pridefully wore their net worth on their sleeves. His parents typified the “be” in “wannabe.” They weren’t striving to keep up with the Joneses; they were the Joneses.
    Ryan met Rex while assigned to VF-41. They'd attended TOPGUN together. After the incident with the Libyan fighters, the Navy sent them to NAS Miramar as TOPGUN instructor pilots.
    Their extreme personality differences made them a perfect team. Rex, the extrovert, amused Ryan, while Ryan’s more reserved personality fit the bill perfectly in Rex’s search for a social wingman.
    When it came to women, Rex lived and breathed by a self-made philosophy he called “Rexology”: women are to be used, not loved, and they existed solely to satisfy and serve men. He'd once said, “Women are disposable items, much like the bones from a juicy, succulent, rib dinner.”
    He strategized that