Asking the pilot to come inside

I knew the moment I saw him that he was mine.

Photo by Max Anderson on Unsplash

I step through the double doors at the base of the elevator, entering an elegant waiting room. A few other women sit on leather couches, poring over magazines and books as if they’re calm and collected. But I can sense their nerves, see the tension in the set of shoulders and the fidgeting of their fingers. And then there’s me…