Chapter 4 - The Denver Tarmac AmbushFour hours later, the heavy thud of landing gear hitting the frozen tarmac of Denver International Airport echoed through the cabin.
Outside the window, a blinding blizzard was swirling across the runway, coating the ground in a thick blanket of glittering white snow. De-icing rigs with orange flashing beacons were rushing across the tarmac like giant mechanical spiders.
The seatbelt signs binged off. Passengers immediately stood up in the narrow aisle, grabbing roller bags and winter coats, eager to escape the cramped confines of the plane.
I didn't move.
I sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Cassandra in row twenty-eight, waiting for the crowd to thin out.
My phone—which had reconnected to the cellular network the second we touched down—was vibrating so violently against my leg it felt like a small motor buzzing in my pocket.
I pulled it out. Twenty-seven missed calls. Forty-one unread messages.
The top notification was from my chief operating officer, Marcus:
“Damon, where the hell are you?! It’s 11:15 PM! Calder is sitting in the boardroom with the board chairman right now! If you don't sign these papers in the next forty-five minutes, Merritt Systems goes to Calder!”
Seven hundred and eighty million dollars.
The acquisition that would cement my legacy as a titan of medical technology. The neonatal monitoring platform designed to save premature infants—ironically, the exact kind of technology that might have saved my little sister thirty years ago, and the exact kind of care Luke had needed in the NICU two and a half years ago.
I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the reply button.
“I’m here,” I typed slowly. “Tell the board to wait in the penthouse suite at the hotel. I’ll be there in an hour.”
I locked the phone and slid it back into my pocket.
Cassandra, who had been watching me out of the corner of her eye while adjusting Violet’s pink knitted cap, spoke in a quiet, guarded voice.
—You have a multi-million-dollar empire waiting for you in the city, Damon. Your car is probably already parked outside waiting to whisk you off to your board meeting. You don't need to sit here with us.
I turned sharply to look at her.
—Did you really think I was just going to drop you off at baggage claim and walk away? —I asked, my voice rising slightly over the rustle of deplaning passengers.
—What else is there for you to do? —she asked, her voice cracking with a bitter, defensive edge. —You’ve got your life, your company, your board meetings. We were just an unexpected layover on your flight to success.
I didn't answer her with words. I unbuckled my seatbelt, stood up in the cramped aisle, and bent down to pick up Cassandra’s heavy canvas diaper bag from the floor, slinging it effortlessly over my shoulder. Then I reached down and scooped little Luke up into my arms.
Luke giggled, wrapping his small arms around my neck, his sandy-brown curls brushing against my cheek.
—Hey! Where are we going, spaceship pilot? —Luke asked excitedly.
—We’re going on an adventure, buddy, —I said, my voice thick with emotion. I looked down at Cassandra, who was staring up at me in utter bewilderment while holding a sleeping Violet. —Cassandra... stand up. You’re coming with me.
—Damon, I’m not crashing your corporate board meeting—'
—This isn't a corporate board meeting anymore, —I interrupted, my tone absolute and unyielding. —This is my family. And wherever you go tonight, I go.
We filed slowly out of the aircraft, stepping off the jet bridge into the freezing, sub-zero air of the Denver terminal.
Waiting near the gate, holding a leather tablet folder and looking frantic, was my executive assistant, Sarah, alongside two corporate security guards in heavy black overcoats.
When Sarah spotted me walking out of the tunnel carrying a toddler on my hip while flanked by a tired, beautiful woman holding a baby, she nearly dropped her clipboard.
—Mr... Mr. Prescott! —Sarah stammered, jogging over. —Thank God! The board is furious! Mr. Calder has been pacing the executive suite for an hour! We have a town car idling outside right now—give me the bag, let’s go!
She reached out to take the diaper bag from my shoulder.
I stepped back, lifting my shoulder out of her reach.
—Sarah, listen to me very carefully, —I said, my voice dropping into a calm, ice-cold register that made her freeze instantly.
—Sir?
—Cancel the car.
Sarah blinked, her jaw dropping. —Cancel... cancel the car? Mr. Prescott, the $780 million deal—if we don't sign by midnight—'
—Order a luxury passenger van with car seats. Two rear-facing infant seats, seat warmers, and room for four people, —I commanded, handing Luke gently back to Cassandra while keeping one hand firmly on her elbow to steady her in the bustling terminal. —And book the entire penthouse suite at the Brown Palace Hotel for a week. Non-negotiable.
Sarah stared at me as if I had just spoken ancient Greek. —Mr. Prescott... what about Mr. Calder? What about the acquisition?
I looked down at Cassandra, who was watching me with a complex, unreadable expression in her green eyes, before turning back to my assistant with a calm, resolute smile.
May you like
—Mr. Calder can wait, Sarah. For the first time in my life, I have something infinitely more important than a corporate acquisition to take care of.
And with that, I grabbed Cassandra’s hand, guiding her and our children through the sliding glass doors of the Denver terminal into the swirling winter snow.
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