Surrender 01 - Surrender

only three months, but it seemed to be a record amount of time for her keeping a job. With her tardiness, she wasn’t going to be extending that record too much longer.
    The airport was a bustling mad-house with a sea of endless people on what seemed to be a busy travel day. The Republic Coffee shop stayed fairly busy throughout the day as it was located near the top of the escalators and the main entranceway to a majority of airline gates.
    As Monica stepped off the escalator she was immediately bombarded with oblivious passengers, the smell of coffee, and the sound of a gate agent getting reamed by an unhappy customer.
    It was at this point that Monica knew it would be another long day of coffee drudgery, pushy passengers and egotistical pilots. Making coffee and dealing with obnoxious people didn't really bother Monica nearly as much as dealing with the arrogant attitudes of the pilot’s.
    At first, while working at the bustling airport, she’d noticed that a great deal of them were sexy, confident and downright charming. It didn’t hurt that they were well paid, flashing bulging wallets at the coffee-house and wearing expensive watches and sunglasses. By her third month, though, she’d learned they generally made no secret about wanting one thing only. She’d discovered many of the pilots had a different girlfriend in each city they regularly visited. She absolutely wanted no part of that. She’d rather be single than be an arrogant man’s play toy. So after turning down several of the men, they’d finally taken the hint and stopped asking her for dates. She was relieved as she’d rather be a little lonely, than a lot jealous.

    CHAPTER TWO

    The sun's rays pierced through the overcast sky as the rain began to subside. The now warming pavement produced wafts of puffy steam as the sun beat down on the well-traveled Seattle roadways. Cars disturbed the steam into a faint torrent as each one of the morning commuters passed over the asphalt. Although it was later in the morning, the commute in Seattle lasted from about seven until usually eleven.
    The light at the busy Broadway intersection turned red as a head-turning silver Porsche 911 came to stop just shy of the crosswalk. The car was driven by a less than humble airline pilot by the name of Robert, who was on his way to the SeaTac airport.
    Although punctual as ever, Robert was once again in a mad dash to get to work early. He seemed to assume the airplane needed his special attention and there’d be no flight for the day if not for his presence. Not too long after Robert stopped, a dark blue BMW M3 pulled alongside him at the intersection. Giving little thought, he glanced over at the driver of the BMW to notice the passenger window rolling down.
    Robert knew he’d recognized the car. The driver was a fellow pilot and friend. He and Frank shared the same amount of arrogance and hot-headedness, but didn't share the same need to be punctual. Frank was routinely late, and since today was no different, he wasn’t in a hurry to get to work.
    “Are you still driving that grandma’s car, old man?” Frank shouted over the sound of his revving engine. Not amused, Robert wasn’t about to break his punctuality by racing Frank.
    “Not in your lifetime.”
    Frank made an “L” with his hand and placed it on his forehead. “Loser, Loser,” Frank taunted, waiting for a reaction from Robert. It seemed that Frank always had something to prove. He wanted to beat Robert at anything he could and the sibling-type rivalry was very apparent, as well as his immature attitude.
    Robert, now frustrated with Frank, felt his ego taking over his decision making process.
    “Fine, you want to find out what this grandma’s car can do? You’d better prepare yourself for defeat.” Robert quickly ended the conversation as he rolled up his window. He could see the excitement on Frank’s face, and heard the rev of his engine as Frank gunned the motor in anticipation of starting.
    The two men watched as the traffic on both sides of the street began to slow, indicating their light was about to change. Both cars surged forward, only held back by their feet on the brakes, as they prepared for the first sign of a green light. Time seemed to stand still as the light finally changed.
    In an almost simultaneous motion, Robert and Frank dumped their clutches and stomped on the gas pedal. With a roar, their cars leapt from the white line. The sound of squealing tires and the smell