Chapter 1: Taking Flight 

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“Our next stop is Terminal A, as in Alpha.”

“Our next stop is Terminal A, as in Assinine,” muttered a girl standing nearby. She was added to the growing list of reasons why Ginny Weasley was beyond fed up with America. Riding the underground train at a crowded airport was another reason; she was stretching her legs after a two hour flight while trying to prepare herself for the next four hours she would be spending up in the air on her connecting flight. As the fast-moving train came to a quick halt at its destination, the change of speed threw Ginny off balance and she banged her head onto the pole in front of her. Cursing quietly, she promised herself that next time she would just ride her broom in the freezing air for the hell of it rather than attempt to master this mundane Muggle existence that had seemed so enticing seven years prior.

Shifting the position of her feet, Ginny grabbed at the harsh floor-to-ceiling metal bar she had just become acquainted with for some extra support. While preparing to exit the train, she spared a glance at the girl who had made the joke in time to see her friends still snickering over it. They were a pathetic reminder of the annoying passengers she had endured on her previous flight. With a prayer to Merlin over her next flight seat-mate, Ginny picked up her bag and tucked the strap over her shoulder, making her way quickly through the crowds. The plane was already boarding when she arrived at her gate—how did she always end up with the gate at the complete opposite end of the airport?

With a sigh of resignation, a slightly out-of-breath Ginny fell into the slowly diminishing line to board the plane. There was no end in sight to this awful trip. And she knew her boss would not be happy about the results of her meetings. Actually, that was an understatement. Their biggest client had just withdrawn his support, and their attempts at a merge completely fell through. With luck, she might still have her head and her job when he was through with her. It almost made her wish she was back at the Burrow with no such worries to speak of, enjoying relaxing meals with her family. No, she thought, cutting off that train of thought, there’s no going back to that now.

As she made her way through the very full aisles of the plane, Ginny searched the luggage panels for her seat number. Spotting it ahead, she glanced at the man already seated in one of the two seats available. From where she was standing, Ginny could see the man slam his cell phone shut looking positively livid; she could only imagine how the flight would proceed. She was about to just walk off the plane; she could just stay here, find a new job to replace the soon-to-be empty position, maybe fill her nonexistent love life while she was at it. That could work. The thump of the door closing behind her stopped the ideas from manifesting themselves and Ginny trudged her way over to her seat.

The man seated there made no move to give her any room to pass, happily (or not so much, from the sound of it) continuing to punch a new number into the keypad of his phone. He hardly spared her a glance as she waited impatiently for a moment before proceeding to climb over his obnoxiously long legs, purposefully wiping the bottom of her heels across his sleek business suit.

“Oh, now that’s just bloody marvelous,” he growled at her, pausing mid-sentence to glare in her direction. Ginny was just getting settled into her seat and would have given a sharp retort had she not been so surprised by his accent. It was a thick British drawl, the first she had heard since leaving England seven years ago. She found herself staring dumbly at him and recovered enough to flash him a sarcastic grin before focusing her eyes out the window. With a loud huff, the man shoved her arm off of their shared armrest and grumbled to the person on the other end of the line. Ginny, however, was overcome with memories of her previous life, the one she had succeeded in blocking from her mind up until now.

At first, Ginny had felt homesick every time she sat down to eat dinner alone, or craved a pickup game of Quidditch. But she had only needed to remind herself of the other issues she had back home to be content with her current situation. It had been rough, living without any magic and acting as though she hadn’t been the complete opposite of a Muggle her entire life. Not to mention the fact that she was a young British woman living in an American society, something that was quite out of her element; at least she had known some things about Muggles from her father’s escapades. But everything had been for the best, and she had begun her new life with good riddance to her past.

“You think I wanted it to happen? They left me no choice; I couldn’t let them barter our business away to every bloody bank in the country!” Her neighbor’s strident dialogue broke her from her reverie, and she found herself eavesdropping onto his phone call without even a shimmer of remorse. After all, if he was going to be loud about it, why not listen in?

“Now listen here, mate, I did what was best for the company,” he barked. “I put my arse on the line for tha—” Realizing Ginny’s attention was focused back on him in a more attuned fashion, he paused once again and fixed her an icy look. “Do you mind?” he exclaimed.

“Not at all,” Ginny replied easily with a saucy smirk. “You were saying...?”

“I’ll call you later, mate, the plane’s taking off,” the man quickly ended his heated conversation. Turning to her once again, he asked, “Well, what have we here? Another Brit cruising the Americas, eh?” After seeming almost as surprised by her accent as Ginny had been by his before, she had to give him credit for his recovery. In fact, judging from the slight grin on his face, his disposition towards her seemed to have completely changed.

“That would be a no, and also none of your business,” she answered, as he regained the rest of his composure. Ginny, however, was not reassured by his newfound temperament and found it best to turn back to her musings, although she had to admit that the asphalt view from the window was less than pleasing to the eye.

“No, you aren’t British? Or no, you are not flying across America?” the man continued, as though he had her full attention. “I can assure you, my dear, that you are sorely mistaken upon both points. Might I interest you in a drink? Compliments of Opulentia Enterprises, of course. We have an ongoing tab upon this flight.” The man said this without even the slightest hint of shame, despite the fact that minutes before he was ignoring her existence, and he drew a stewardess over to them with the twitch of two fingers. Ginny might have even humored him for a free drink to begin erasing the past few hour’s events, if it weren’t for the name he mentioned.

Opulentia Enterprises. The client she had lost a mere hour ago. She had never actually spoken with an actual member of the company; in fact, they had always sent a twitchy representative to conduct all of the business requirements. Today, she hadn’t even been graced with such a simple presence. A measly courier had been the one to deliver the unsatisfactory news that the enterprise’s CEO had decided to not only decline their merge, but cut off all ties completely. No explanation, no negotiation...nothing. And now, come to find, she was sitting right next to an accomplished member of the company and he was British. He was also offering her a drink and some conversation. Well, this was Ginny Weasley we were talking about. The girl who currently had her job and reputation on the line. She could con even her twin brothers into an idea and make them believe it was theirs, and there was certainly no time like the present to renew her skills. Time to begin scheming.

A little over four hours later, Ginny was shaking hands with Geoff (or, rather, he was vigorously pumping her arm) as he loudly assured her that he would be speaking with his partner (his partner!) about her company’s proposition once more. Ginny couldn’t believe her luck, and the grin spreading across her face was not a forced one. She couldn’t wait to tell her boss the great news, and perhaps forget to mention all of the small details in between. For now, she felt like celebrating with a long bubble bath and some wine in her flat.

Whoever said Ginny Weasley couldn’t fend for herself?

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“You did what?!” Draco Malfoy, co-owner of Opulentia Enterprises, was beyond livid after hearing about the events of his partner’s flight. Geoff had gone off to tie off some loose ends in a banking confusion and had come back practically signed to a new deal. With a random woman, no less.

“Oh, come off it, Draco, you heard me,” Geoff gestured wildly with his arms. “The woman was a fantastic speaker, it’s like the ideas came to life right in front of me. I don’t know how we could have ignored the proposal before,” he continued excitedly, as though steam weren’t shooting from Draco’s ears. “She would certainly be a bloody good asset to our team. The entire company would, if they’re just as bright as her. She had new ideas flying from all over!”

“Right. And who exactly was this woman who seems to have caught you with her feminine wiles? This wouldn’t be the first time, you know.” Draco could hardly resist rolling his eyes as he rubbed a hand down his face. “I need a drink.” He walked over to the bookshelves in his office and poured a shot of whiskey, examining Geoff’s expression. “Cor, you honestly expect me to consider this offer; from a Muggle company?”

“Now, Draco, why all the fuss? She was the lead representative of her company...Jennifer something or other. I don’t remember exactly, but what does that have to do with anything? She told me that all business negotiations go through her. See, she even left me her number.” Geoff tossed the napkin bearing his flight’s logo onto Draco’s desk. “At least just consider the offer again? Muggle or no, it was quite remarkable.”

Draco sighed. “And you’re sure this wasn’t just a dream? Some girl leaving her number for a booty call?” It wasn’t like he didn’t want to toss the grimy slip of paper into the rubbish bin right then and there. But Draco hadn’t partnered up with Geoff for any simple reason. The man grinning before him was one of the few people who Draco could actually tolerate on a daily basis. He was more than a partner...Draco might even call him a friend. Sliding into the plush chair behind his desk, Draco picked up the napkin and held it between two fingers, eyeing it warily.

“I’m sure,” Geoff chuckled. “You won’t be sorry, mate. Now, get some rest. We’ve got a long flight back to England in the morning.” Knocking back the rest of Draco’s drink, Geoff gave his partner a grin and departed.

“Yes, we bloody well do,” Draco muttered to nobody in particular.

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Ginny’s boss had been ecstatic, to say the least. He had insisted on celebrating, setting up a small party and even confiding to her that he had expected her to come back empty-handed with an offer like that. Hearing this news, Ginny was positive that Merlin was watching over her on the plane ride home. She couldn’t help but feel proud of herself; of course, it didn’t hurt that he had promoted her to manager of all business operations within the company. Ginny had been working for this company seven years, and finally had a position she was proud of. Her job outlook for the future was finally beginning to brighten.

Walking into her office a week later, she found a new stack of offers to consider waiting upon her desk. But before Ginny even had a chance to sit down her secretary (she even had a secretary!), Margaret, ran inside clutching a memo. “Miss Weasley!” The intern squealed, hurrying up to her. Mousy Margaret, as she had once been called, was an intern at the company and had been sorting mail for the past three months. Upon being promoted to secretary, it was as though a switch had been flipped. Not even Ginny could get the girl to settle down. Margaret now spoke at a high-pitched decibel and always ran around as if she had downed twenty shots of espresso for breakfast. “A gentleman called from Opulentia Enterprises, a Mister, er...” Margaret faltered and glanced at her memo before screeching, “Geoff Kingston!”

Ginny, although not as excitable as her secretary, could hardly contain her glee. “Well, could I just—” Ginny asked, reaching for the slip of paper. But Margaret continued, unabashedly ignoring Ginny in attempts to seem useful. “He asked for a Jennifer, but I knew nobody named Jennifer worked here! Plus, once he said business department, I knew he must be looking for you and had simply confused your name! I told him I was only your secretary,” Margaret paused, blushing madly, “but he said that it was quite alright and he left his number for you. He even told me that he could call back later if you were too busy! How sweet!”

While Ginny was humoring herself with images of Margaret’s mouth sewn shut, she found her secretary handing her the memo before prancing out of the office to resume her station posted just outside. It only took a glance for Ginny to recognize the number as a long-distance call from England, and she wondered at her surprise. “Silly me,” she murmured, thinking that there could have been another British native working in America. It was now quite obvious that Opulentia Enterprises was based out of the United Kingdom itself; and not far from her home, if the number was anything to go by.

After informing Margaret to hold any calls for the next twenty minutes, Ginny picked up the receiver and dialed the number in front of her. But instead of Geoff’s cheery voice on the other end, a gruff British drawl barked a greeting at her. “Yes, hello,” Ginny replied, “I’m returning a call from Geoff Kingston. Might I speak with him, please?”

“Geoff is at lunch with a client right now, and I’m sure he is far too interested in work to be going out on dates anytime soon. Goodbye!”

Seeing that her conversation was about to be terminated, Ginny hurriedly explained herself. “Wait! Please, I’m not calling for...personal matters.” As she could still hear breathing on the other end, Ginny figured the man was listening. She continued, “You see, Mr. Kingston and I are working on a proposal from my company, Volte-Face. We discussed the major essence of the idea on a plane flight about a week ago, but I would like to negotiate more detail, when he has the time.” Ginny was not normally one to plead; she was actually more of the forceful sort when it came to conversations. But she sensed the need to tread lightly around this man. “Could I leave a message, perhaps?”

There was a slight pause before she heard some rustling. “Actually, you’re in luck. Geoff is my partner, and we consider all happenings among our business together. He has presented your company’s...proposal to me and I am willing to accept it. Under certain stipulations, of course.”

“Of course,” Ginny echoed weakly, dumbfounded. She had not expected to be speaking to Geoff’s partner so soon, the one he had described as a ‘rough and critical sort’. But she decided to run with it, especially upon hearing his acceptance of her offer, even in its raw form.

“We will require a contract to be drawn up and settled, and new discourse concerning such fresh relations between our companies,” the man quickly stated, as though there were no room for discussion. “And you must send someone here to negotiate any remaining terms in the agreement, an emissary of sorts to keep up with your company’s agreement on this side of the world. How quickly can this be arranged?”

It seemed like more of a challenge than a question, and Ginny was inclined to reply with just as much vigor. “You’ll have a representative from our company in your office tomorrow morning,” she ensured, hanging up with a sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t until Ginny realized what she had just promised that she groaned out loud and ran off in search of her boss.

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