Six Ways to Sin
Page 14
“No Kar,” I said, biting my lip. Somehow, I knew it was okay to tell the truth, even if reality was scandalous. We’ve been through a lot together, even as young girls. Her parents had divorced in seventh grade, and I’d stood by her side. My great-aunt Millie passed away, and Karen had let me cry on her shoulder, even doing my homework when I too much a mess.
So I tried again.
“Kar,” I said slowly. “I work for a private airline. One where there are only male passengers.”
She shot me a long look.
“Really?” she asked, brows scrunched. “What kind of gig is that?”
“I signed up a career fair believe it or not,” was my admission. “Elite Air seemed like any other job, except better. I’d only have to fly short legs between cities in the U.S., so it was a dream come true what with the generous salary and benefits.”
Karen looked puzzled still.
“Okay, but still. Why are there only male passengers?”
Here, I took a deep breath.
“It turns out that there are six guys who founded the company. They’re CEOs who travel a lot, so they figured using their own private jet would be more relaxing. So there are only six male passengers.”
Karen’s face relaxed then.
“Oh okay, that makes a lot more sense. I thought you were going to launch into this whole gender discrimination thing. But no, if it’s the six guys who own the company, then that makes sense.”
I nodded hesitantly.
“But there’s more Kar. I’m more than a flight attendant.”
Her nose wrinkled.
“Totally get it,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “The way corporate America is these days is completely shameless. They expect their workers to be everything and anything, from janitor to handyman to secretary, you name it. Of course you’re not just the stewardess,” she said sympathetically. “Are you the cleaning staff and the chef too? You have a ton of “extra” responsibilities that they play off as “part of the job,” right?”
I nodded again slowly.
“Yes, to an extent,” were my hesitant words. “I do have a ton of extra responsibilities, but it’s not cleaning or cooking.”
Karen scrunched her nose.
“Then what could it be? Do they expect you to fly the plane as well? That’s bullshit Joanie, you have to call them out on that.”
I took a deep breath.
“It’s not flying the plane, Kar. No, it’s that … I make love with them. With the six men, I mean,” came my stammer. “When we’re up in the air.”
For once, my chatty friend had no words. She gulped, eyes wide and staring.
“Wha--?” was her slow exclamation. “Are you --? No way, girl. That can’t be true.”
I nodded miserably again.
“It kind of just happened,” I said sorrowfully. “I did it with one, and then another, and pretty soon, it was all six of them.”
She cut me off again.
“You don’t mean six at once, do you? Just one at a time, right? You know, like in a line.”
My eyes looked down, afraid to face her judgment.
“No, I do mean six at once,” I whispered. “It just happened, kinda sorta. But it felt really good!” my voice rose a little then, eyes pleading. “It’s not bad. In fact, it’s really good, please don’t judge.”
My voice broke then. I understood how ridiculous this sounded. I was admitting that I was sleeping with six men, and not only that, but enjoying it too.
“It’s not so bad,” I said, my tone stronger this time. “I like it,” was my admission, “and that’s why I’m in New York right now. Because one of the guys has a penthouse in Manhattan, so I was staying there.”
Karen’s eyes narrowed.
“So what went wrong?” she asked slowly. “If you like it so much, and this is what the guys want from you, then what went wrong?”
Okay, this was the hard part.
“Me and one of the guys went out for the day, and two of the alphas were waiting for us upon return. They were jealous. Real jealous, like got into a fight in the hallway jealous. I thought I was gonna have to call 9-1-1,” I confessed in a shameful whisper.
But Karen didn’t think this was embarrassing at all. Instead, she tilted her head back and laughed, her tongue ring glinting under the fluorescent light.
“So? They like you, sweetheart. They think you’re sexy. You’ve got a pack of men fighting over you, and you’re upset about that?”
I sat there stunned.
“Well, yes, kinda sorta. Because it’s not cool,” I said slowly. “I don’t like fighting. I don’t like war. I like peace and harmony, and this was only three of them. What happens when all six fight? How are we gonna work it out?”
Karen eyed me, a little skeptical.
“Yeah, but isn’t that their problem? Why is it so upsetting to you?”
I took a deep breath. Why? I guess because I’m just me, and tension in the air makes me nervous. It makes me jittery and unstable, and I hated feeling like Helen of Troy. I hated knowing that nations were going to war because of me. This isn’t what I wanted at all.
“I guess I’m just a peaceful person,” I mumbled, looking down at my hands once more. “I guess it makes me upset and uncomfortable. I want everyone to be happy, and that wasn’t the situation tonight.”
Karen took my shoulders then, turning me so that we faced each other on the narrow bed.
“Joanie, I haven’t seen you in a long time,” she said firmly. “But you’ve gotta buck up! I’m not saying this situation is ideal. No one wants to be in the middle of a mess. No one wants to cause a mess either. But at the same time, how old are these guys? If they’re CEOs, they can’t be that young, right? They’ll find some way to work it out, you don’t need to get involved.”
I shook my head hopelessly.
“But I feel like I am already. If I wasn’t there, then they wouldn’t be brawling and ready to draw blood.”
She nodded thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I think it can feel like that sometimes. It’s human nature after all,” she said with a wry smile. “It’s human nature to think we’re the center of the universe, and in your case, that’s especially true. But try to step outside of yourself for a moment, and just take a deep breath. Do you really think these guys can’t work it out? They’ve lived decades more than you, honey. These guys know how to grease the wheels, they know how to make things work. You don’t need to worry.”
And I stared at my hands, still contemplating.
“Maybe,” was my small voice. “But even if they weren’t fighting, don’t you think it’s weird? Don’t you think it’s weird that I’m with six men?”
Karen was silent for a moment, black hair absorbing all the light. Wow, her dye job was intense, the strands like sooty charcoal without any shiny glints whatsoever.
“I do,” my friend began slowly. “But it doesn’t matter what I think. There are so many ways to live life, and I’ve learned not to judge.”
I sat back, staring at her unblinking.
“Really?” came my croaky voice. “You’re okay with it?”
Karen was silent for a moment, staring at the bedspread before looking back up at me.
“Joanie,” she said slowly. “I’ve learned that you have to live life out loud, and if you’re in love with six men, then it’s fine. Love is love, and we all have our secrets.” She took a deep breath before looking me straight in the eye, gaze unwavering. “Do you know why my dad moved me to the city in the middle of eighth grade?”
I nodded, confused.
“Yeah, because he got a job in Manhattan, right? And your parents divorced too. At least that’s what I always thought. Why, was there something else?”
Karen nodded then.
“My dad did get a job with a shop here,” she said slowly. “But it’s more than that. I came out to my parents, and they wanted me to be in a safer environment. Where we’re from, people aren’t so nice when they f
ind out you’re gay. It’s not that they’re mean, they just don’t want to be friends anymore. So my dad moved us to the East Village, figuring that the boho crowd wouldn’t care.”
I stared.
“You-you’re gay?” I stammered. “You mean, like lesbian?”
Karen nodded slowly, eyes flickering a little.
“I am,” she confirmed in a soft voice. “I’ve been lesbian since I was a little girl. I always knew, even when I was small. I hope you don’t mind Joanie. I hope this doesn’t change our friendship.”
I stared at my buddy with new eyes. This conversation was insane. We’d started talking about my love affair with six men, and now Karen was coming out of the closet? How did this conversation make any sense? How was Karen a lesbian anyways? Because never would I have suspected. There were times when we hung out in my room, listening to boy bands while cooing over pictures of Justin Bieber. So this was unexpected for sure.
But friends are friends, and it doesn’t matter if you’re gay, straight, black, white, or covered in polka dots. All that mattered was our relationship, and Karen had my back no matter what. The same way that I had hers.
I grabbed her hand tightly, our fingers interlaced.
“I guess I’m not the only one with secrets, huh?” came my croaky voice. “We both turned out different than expected.”
Karen gripped my fingers just as tight.
“We turned out different,” she affirmed. “But better in the end.”
And with that, the two of us began to laugh and cry at once. Because life’s not simple. It’s not straightforward. It’s not a smooth path without any bumps. Instead, this wonderful thing called living is an adventure, with dozens of left turns and loopy curves.
And right now, we were walking it as best we could. Karen had come out of the closet, a goth lesbian majoring in gender studies at Hudson. And I was a flight attendant, working for a scandalous airline servicing six men.
But one thing we both know is never to judge. Because life is short, while love is long. Why waste time when you only have limited time on this Earth? And laughing and crying once more, we embraced. Nothing seemed so difficult now. It was four a.m., and bright and early tomorrow, I’d make my way back to Nick’s penthouse with a fresh perspective and a load off my shoulders.
Karen sniffled a little, holding out a pinkie. Her mascara had run, making my buddy look even more like a ghoul, but it was still my bestie under there.
“Friends forever?” she asked, voice quavering a little.
“Forever,” I affirmed, locking digits with her. And my mind swooped and whirled, even as we traded watery smiles. Because there are good people in this world. My buddy proved that now. And Aaron, Andrew, Charlie, Damien, Nick and Tom were good people as well. I knew in my heart of hearts that the alphas wanted to do right by me. Not just with the generous salary and benefits, but that they truly wanted to take care of me.
So tomorrow, I’d go back. I’d tell my billionaires that we’d work it out. That didn’t mean no more arguing, but it did mean we’d establish boundaries, whether far or near. What those parameters were exactly, I wasn’t sure … but we’d figure it out together.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Joanie
My form quivered in the elevator, cheeks flushed. Because when I checked in with the concierge, he’d nodded.
“Of course, Miss MacAllister,” the elderly man said in a professional tone. “I’ll let you right up.”
But then that expression got serious. “You guys having a party up there? Three other gentlemen went up this morning as well. Management needs to be informed if there are parties bigger than five,” he frowned.
I gulped. Who was at Nick’s apartment? It had to be Damien, Charlie and Tom. The other three alphas must have shown up to resolve the issue of my possession.
So I gulped.
“No-not sure,” was my stammer. “But I can let Mr. North know.”
The concierge nodded.
“Yes, please. Ask him to call down and I’ll note it in our computers,” he said officiously. “Co-op rules and regulations, you know.”
I nodded, although in fact, I had no idea how the rules worked. Co-ops are a weird quirk of New York City. They run buildings in NYC, and the boards have been known to be strict and even bizarre in some cases. A party of five people didn’t sound so ginormous to me, but it wasn’t my place to say.
“Okay,” I said timidly. “Will do.”
And with that, I was whooshed up in the gleaming elevator, heart pumping excitedly. Because after visiting Karen, I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to tell the billionaires my story. I wanted to lay out my concerns, and to address them heart in hand. How things would turn out wasn’t clear, but there was definitely some type of resolution that would work for all of us.
But life is zany and bizarre, and my heart dropped to my stomach when the elevator doors opened. Because I thought I’d be alone. There’s only one apartment on Nick’s floor after all, and that’s his penthouse.
But unexpectedly, a beautiful blonde breezed in, hair slightly mussed, lipstick off just a touch off.
She shot me a dirty look.
“Getting off?” the girl asked. Her voice was dry and raspy, like she’d just tasted something nasty.
I shook my head, and then nodded quickly.
“Yes, yes, in fact I am,” I said.
She stared, those blue eyes unkind.
“This is it,” were her flat words. “You’re at the right floor.”
And numbly, my feet took me off the elevator, doors dinging closed once more.
But my lungs wouldn’t inhale. Or more accurately, they were filling with oxygen too fast. I felt lightheaded and faint.
Because who was that girl?
Why had she been so surly?
Why had she looked me up and down like I was the competition?
I was dressed in nothing special, just jeans and a t-shirt. My brown hair was wild as always, springing in curls around my shoulders.
But the blonde had narrowed her eyes at me, surveying my assets up and down. And strangely, we looked somewhat alike, superficially at least. We both had huge, soft breasts with wide hips. Her bum was as big as Kim Kardashian’s, clad in pink velour sweat pants with a lower back tattoo peeping over the waistband.
Who was that girl?
And why was she visiting Nick?
Heart thumping, my feet propelled me forwards. There was only one apartment on the top floor, and that belonged to the billionaire. So why did he have a pretty blonde visitor at ten in the morning? She couldn’t have been visiting anyone else.
Creeping towards the front door, I paused, pressing my ear to the wood.
It wasn’t necessary.
Every word was clear as a bell.
“Ripe,” drawled one male voice. “Luscious for sure.”
“Yeah, she’s good,” remarked another one. “Not as good as Joanie but still up there.” Was that Tom? I sort of recognized his tone.
But the next voice was unmistakable, deep and raspy.
“Forget it, Joanie’s done,” came Nick’s comment. “Let’s move on.”
I fell to my knees then in the hallway. The thunk was loud but the carpet muffled most of the impact, even as I breathed hard, eyes wild.
Because it was clear what had happened. The billionaires had given up on me. When they discovered me gone this morning, they called up Helena for a new girl.
“Send a fresh one,” Nick must have commanded. “We’re done with the old.”
My eyes watered, stinging and hot. That fast? I’d crept out in the middle of the night, taking my stuff with me. And they’d given up already? Not just that, but called in my replacement as well?
Because that’s who the blonde girl was. She must have interviewed with the six men. They were all here, after all. The six of them were in New York for some reason or other, taking overnight flights. And when they discovered I was missing, it was the perfect time to do some s
creening for the next stewardess.
Forget Joanie.
Forget the brunette.
Forget the promises we made.
Oh wait. There had been no promises, nothing but a contract.
And now I was too much trouble.
Because billionaires don’t “work things out.”
Instead, everything goes their way, all the time.
And heart pounding, tears poured down my cheeks. How could this have happened? I didn’t deserve this. Just yesterday, the twins and Nick had been fighting over me. But one small disturbance in the universe, and I was toast? Because I needed some time to myself, that was it? How could they be so harsh and unrelenting? Why was this happening?
But there are no why’s in the world.
Things are unfair.
Nothing is just.
And I had to accept my fate. The billionaires were done with me. More than done, they’d already found someone else to take my place. At the very least, they were interviewing dozens of applicants, thus the dirty look the blonde shot my way.
She thought I was competition.
Oh god.
The realization hurt so bad that I keeled over, face in my hands.
Because I wasn’t competition.
I was leftover trash, one and done, thrown out with the garbage.
The knowledge seared my heart, tearing me apart from the inside out.
But no. They’d hear if I cried outside the door. So stumbling to the elevator bank, I jammed the button with a desperate finger, willing the lift to carry me away.
Get me out of here, the voice in my head whispered. Please now, before they discover my humiliation.
Because I was yesterday’s news … and the dream was over.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tom
I knew we shouldn’t have done the interview with the new girl. There was no need. Joanie had been gone only a couple hours. Hell, maybe she’d stepped out to grab a bagel, who knew?
But Helena had already booked the interview, and it was too late to cancel.