“Fix This Her Jet, I’ll Kiss You Right Now” — Ceo Mocked The Single Dad Janitor Before Everyone
More Than Profit Margins
“I also found something not in my reports,”
Nolan said, his tone making her pause.
“Everyone here actually cares. Mechanics stay late, unpaid, because they take pride in work. Instructors help students on their own time. The ground crew knows each other’s families and covers shifts during emergencies.”
“Clark Aviation isn’t just a company; it matters beyond profit margins. Your father built something rare and you’ve kept it alive. That’s worth more than efficient ordering.”
Brennan stared, conflicting emotions crossing her face.
“Don’t you dare try making this about nobility or a discovered conscience. You came to spy. You lied to everyone, including me. You let me humiliate myself.”
“I fixed your father’s airplane,”
Nolan interrupted gently.
“I didn’t have to. I could have stayed quiet, maintained cover, and let it stay broken. But I couldn’t watch you lose that too.”
The words hit hard. Brennan turned to the window, looking at planes departing and arriving. When she spoke, her voice was quieter, more vulnerable.
“That was his favorite. The Gulfstream. He bought it when every dollar mattered and kept it when we could afford newer aircraft.”
“Every Sunday morning before board meetings and strategies and reports, he’d take me up. Just us and the sky.”
She paused, and Nolan saw her wipe her eyes quickly.
“He died two years ago. A heart attack in a board meeting discussing whether to sell to your father. His last words were telling them ‘no,’ that some things shouldn’t be for sale.”
Choosing a Different Path
The weight settled over Nolan. His father had never mentioned it; he had presented Clark Aviation as just another target, never mentioning that Thomas Clark had literally died defending his company from Mercer Aerospace.
“I’m sorry,”
Nolan said, meaning it completely.
“I didn’t know.”
“No, because your father doesn’t care. He doesn’t care my father built this believing aviation should be more than profit. He doesn’t care we employ 243 people depending on us.”
“He doesn’t care I’ve spent 2 years honoring what he built while staying competitive in a market rewarding ruthlessness.”
Her voice strengthened.
“All your father cares about is acquiring us, absorbing us, and erasing what made us different.”
“You’re right,”
Nolan said, surprising her.
“About my father, the strategy, all of it. He’d use everything I learned to destroy what your father built and sleep fine because that’s business.”
He took a breath.
“But I can’t give him those reports.”
Brennan stared.
“What?”
“I’m not giving him the intelligence. Any of it. The reports, the documentation—I’ll delete everything. Your weaknesses stay your secrets.”
He met her eyes.
“I’m done being my father’s spy.”
Brennan looked at him, her expression between disbelief and calculation.
“Why? You’ve spent 3 months building this. Your father’s counting on you. Your family legacy probably rides on this.”
“Because fixing that airplane felt right in a way nothing has for months,”
Nolan said.
“Because Derek stayed late for someone who mattered to you. Because your father died defending something he believed in. And because I have a 7-year-old daughter watching me, learning from me.”
“I want her to see someone who chose integrity over expedience, even when it cost everything.”
Brennan studied him silently.
“Your father won’t forgive this. He’ll cut you off and disinherit you. You’ll lose everything.”
“Not everything. I’ll keep the parts that matter: my daughter, my self-respect, and the ability to sleep at night.”
He smiled without humor.
“Besides, I’m pretty good with my hands.”
An Unexpected Offer
“You could stay,”
Brennan said suddenly, her voice different, almost tentative.
“Not as a janitor. As an engineering consultant. We need someone who sees what our team misses.”
She stood straighter.
“Consultant rates, an official contract, and an NDA covering everything you learned. Legal protection if your father retaliates.”
Nolan stared, processing the offer.
“You’re offering me a job after I admitted corporate espionage?”
“You’re offering to destroy evidence that could ruin me. That’s worth something.”
Plus, her smile returned, smaller and genuine.
“You fixed my father’s airplane when everyone said it was impossible. That’s worth something too.”
“Conditions,”
She continued in an executive tone.
“Comprehensive legal documents, full disclosure of what your father knows already, and you help me fix the operational weaknesses. Make us stronger instead of exploitable.”
And she hesitated.
“Honesty from here forward. No more lies. If we work together, I need to trust you.”
“I can do that,”
Nolan said, feeling something tight loosen in his chest.
“But I need to tell my father first, face to face. He deserves to hear it from me.”
Brennan nodded.
“You have until Monday morning. A weekend to have whatever conversation needs happening. But Monday, I need commitment to Clark Aviation, to fixing what’s broken, and to being someone I can count on.”
“Monday morning,”
Nolan agreed.
“You’ll have my answer and full commitment.”
Face to Face with the Empire
They looked at each other across the office and Nolan felt three months of deception finally lifting. Brennan saw him now—all of him: spy, engineer, and father trying to be someone his daughter could respect.
Instead of calling security or pressing charges, she was offering him a way forward.
“Thank you,”
He said quietly,
“For this chance when you had every reason not to.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You still have to face your father. That won’t be easy.”
She pulled out a business card, writing on the back.
“My personal number, if things go badly—and they probably will—call me. I’ve had difficult family conversations about legacy. Sometimes it helps talking to someone who understands.”
Nolan took the card, feeling the gesture’s weight.
“I’ll let you know how it goes. And Brennan,”
He used her first name deliberately,
“Your father would be proud. Not just of the profit margins, but the culture and the way people care. That’s harder to maintain than quarterly growth.”
She looked at him, her eyes brightening with tears she refused to let fall.
“Get out of here before I change my mind about being generous. And Mercer? Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
“I won’t,”
He promised, walking out and feeling like he’d shed a strangling skin.
