Turbulence

by E. J. Noyes

  “Last night’s bedmate. Not like you to pick up a random.”

  I snorted. “Why would I tell you?”

  He raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Belle, you tell me everything, including when you have your period.”

  “No I don’t.” I pressed my lips together.

  “Please. How many times have you swanned into my office dramatically proclaiming how bloated you are and how you, and I quote, ‘are not going to fit into your dress for tonight’?”

  Oh. Right. “Well…we’re friends.”

  Mark popped a gun finger at me. “Exactly. And friends share, especially details of their first lay in over four months since their god-awful ex left them.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

  My phone sounded a text alert from Clare, my PA. Meeting this afternoon canceled. Glorious. I swallowed the rest of my coffee. “Preston ran late, as usual, and I didn’t get back until almost ten. Wasn’t tired, so I headed to the hotel bar. She bought me a drink, and I’ve got no idea who she is.”

  “And how long did it take her to get you into her room?”

  “Forty-five minutes.” Actually it was thirty but I didn’t want to sound too eager.

  Mark threw his head back and barked out a sharp laugh.

  “Shh!” I crossed my legs, leaning back. “If you’d have seen her, I bet you would have taken even less time.”

  “Oh really?”

  I nodded smugly as another coffee and my breakfast were set on the low table in front of me. Caffeine now coursing through my veins, I turned a full-toothed smile on the server. “Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.” I shook hot sauce over the plate.

  Mark made a swirling motion with his forefinger. “Come on!”

  “Come on what?”

  “Elaborate. You can’t drop a snippet like that and not tell me details.”

  Mark stared as I ate a delicate bite of my breakfast, deliberately taking my time chewing and swallowing. I wiped the edge of my mouth. “About my age, five-seven or eight. Delicious, funny and extremely—” I raised an eyebrow. “Talented. Responsive. Athletic, but not butch.” As I made my list, I became all too aware of my arousal raising its hand. Goddammit. Really? Again?

  Mark wrinkled his nose. “Well, isn’t it nice to be you? I fell asleep alone at eleven, watching Bridesmaids.”

  I put a little extra sarcasm into my response. “For the life of me, I do not know why you’re single.”

  “Me either,” he said ruefully. “But the bed was wonderful, almost makes up for staying in a hotel.”

  I mused noncommittally. After last night, hotels were suddenly a whole lot more appealing. Still, I knew the chance of a repeat was unlikely. Overnights were rare and only at times like this when Mark and I had clashing meeting schedules. He would rather wait and stay in a hotel than fly on a jet that wasn’t ours. The guy was like a kid with a toy.

  We talked business over another coffee and my restorative breakfast. By the time we left to board, I felt ninety percent human. All I needed was a decent nap and maybe a round with my Rabbit to get rid of the persistent tingle that popped up every time I thought about last night. I slipped oversized sunglasses over tired eyes and walked briskly across the tarmac, rolling my bag behind me.

  Out in the sun, a headache poked spikes through my skull. I knew that once I was on board our hostess, Georgia, would supply me with water, Advil and everything else I needed to get back to the office in one piece. Including eye candy. Every now and then, I fantasized about taking her in back and engaging in a little mile-high extravaganza. If it wasn’t so gross—being that I signed her paychecks, and that she was straight and attached—I might have seriously considered it.

  As I approached the boarding steps, movement in the cockpit caught my eye. I looked up and got a glimpse of dark hair, high cheekbones and a familiar cocky grin. Something electric slid down my spine. I couldn’t see the pilot’s eyes but it didn’t matter, because even behind her aviators I knew what they would look like. I knew, because I’d spent hours shyly staring into them last night while my fingers not-so-shyly explored other parts of her.

  Jesus H Christ ridin’ a bicycle.

  My stomach flipped and I was given a Technicolor reminder of her legs spread wide, heels digging into my back and begging me to let her come. The stomach flip turned into confusion. Why was my one-night stand sitting in the pilot’s seat of my private jet?

  Sunglasses were lifted, both in the jet and on the tarmac. I paused, and for a moment we simply stared at one another until the cocky grin turned into a brilliant smile, making me totter on my very high heels. My jacket fell from where it was hooked over the suitcase. Wonderful. Let me be clear about something else. I am not a clumsy person, yet there I was stumbling, fumbling and bumbling like the nerd who was about to ask the hottest girl at school to the dance.

  Heat crept into my ears as I tried to bend down in my tight skirt and heels to retrieve my jacket. My briefcase slid from my shoulder to join my clothing on the hot tarmac. Perfect. Just fuckin’ perfect. I only just managed to stop a string of expletives. My cheeks clearly thought my ears were lonely and warmed with a flush too.

  Mark stopped halfway up the steps and turned around. “You all right, Belle?”

  “Just a moment,” I called. When I finally managed to pick up my things and straighten again, I found my gaze drawn back to the cockpit window. She was still grinning. At me.

  Chapter Two

  My cheeks were still burning as I climbed the steps. What the fuck was happening? I glanced around for hidden cameras. This had to be a prank, right? Georgia greeted me cheerfully as soon as I made it into the cabin. “Good morning, Ms. Rhodes. May I take your jacket?”

  I hate being called Ms. Rhodes but Mark insisted on it from all the employees. He liked to set stupid standards. I thought it made me sound like a kindergarten teacher, but I guess it was a small step above being called Miss or Ma’am. I passed her my jacket, mumbled my thanks and immediately chastised myself. Though I could be abrupt and demanding, I’d always prided myself on treating employees respectfully. Did orgasms count as respectful employee treatment? If so, color me super-respectful.

  I inhaled through my nose, stuck a smile on my face, and tried again. “Thank you, Georgia. Did you have a nice evening?”

  Vigorous nodding. “I did, thank you. I love Oklahoma City.” Georgia loved everything. She would have had dinner at an inexpensive restaurant then gone to the movies and spent approximately fourteen dollars at the snack bar. After years of signing off on her expenses, I knew she was a woman of habit. She was also a woman of great moral integrity, never coming anywhere near our employee’s two hundred and fifty dollar per day allowance for nights out of town.

  I settled in my usual seat over the left wing, and glanced at Mark who was getting in a last minute phone call. My pulse thudded in my skull. I couldn’t tell if it was from a hangover or the revelation that the only time I’d ever had a one-night stand, my lover was actually my employee.

  Could I not just have one thing where my work and my private life didn’t bleed together? For a terrifying moment, I wondered if Mark hadn’t set it up as a get back on the horse scenario. Quickly, I dismissed the idea—he wasn’t that kind of person. I stared toward the front of the cabin. The cockpit curtain was closed, hiding her from view.

  How had I not known who she was? How long had she worked for us? I took a mental trip backward through yesterday morning’s flight. I worked for most of it and rushed off the plane with my earphones still in, calling out my thanks to the pilot as I walked past. All I’d seen was a mass of dark hair in a neat ponytail and assumed she was a relief pilot because both our staff pilots were sick or something. I’d been up working for most of the night before, and I still hadn’t had my midmorning coffee. Nobody is their most attentive or observant under such circumstances.

  I decided to give myself the benefit of the doubt, concluding I really couldn’t have known, because I hadn’t seen her face or he
ard her voice. Georgia stopped in front of me, bending down slightly. “Can I get you anything, Ms. Rhodes?”

  An explanation and the pilot, thanks very much. Stop. Exactly the sort of thoughts you are not allowed to have, Isabelle. Still, my eyes went to the front of the plane again before I disciplined them to look up at Georgia. “Some water and a couple of headache tablets would be great please.”

  “Of course.”

  She returned promptly and I tried a casual, “The pilot. Is she a relief? I haven’t seen her before.”

  Georgia flashed me a four hundred-megawatt smile. “No, she’s not a relief pilot, Ms. Rhodes. Yesterday was Captain Graham’s first day flying for Rhodes and Hall, and I believe she’s now employed full-time on the A roster.” The smile dimmed to three hundred and ninety-seven megawatts and she snuck a quick glance at Mark, still on the phone. “It’s my understanding that Captain Ackerman has moved on.” Her eyes shone and in any other circumstance, I’m sure she would have vomited gossip all over me.

  I nodded, trying to process the fact that my one-night-never-see-you-again stand was not only fifteen feet away but apparently working for me. Surprise! My life was a joke. The cockpit curtains slid open and I caught sight of Captain Graham twisting around in her seat. She smiled at me again and my stomach turned in on itself. I should probably have asked Georgia my new employee’s first name. I reached over and snapped my fingers at Mark to get his attention. Mark ignored me.

  Captain Graham’s voice carried through to us. “Good morning, Ms. Rhodes and Mr. Hall. We’ve received clearance to depart so if you could make sure everything’s stowed safely and you’re belted in, I can get you on your way back to New York. Georgia, secure the door please.”

  I blinked. Her professional voice was even sexier than her bedroom voice, if such a thing were possible. I pinched my thigh gently. Not dreaming. This is real and it is awkward as hell.

  The takeoff was smooth and uneventful—clearly she was as skilled a pilot as she was a lover. Once we’d leveled out, I opened my laptop and connected to our wireless Internet. While market updates loaded, I leaned toward Mark. “What happened to Ackerman?”

  He didn’t glance up from thumbing through his phone. “I fired him.”

  I turned Grams’ engagement ring back and forth on my right ring finger, the diamond catching the light with each twist. It was the only piece of jewelry I never changed, and my stylist had long given up trying to get it off my finger because of clashing issues. “Why? You didn’t think it necessary to tell me?”

  Mark laughed. “Belle. Come on. You have zero interest in that sort of thing.”

  That he was right was beside the point. Along with the intricacies of running the business and managing the office staff, I found handling the schedules for our team of limo drivers and two pilots tiresome and tended to leave that sort of thing to Mark. Still, I would have thought firing one of our pilots would rate a mention. I drummed my nails on the armrest. “I’d still like to know why.”

  Mark’s voice was low. “He was being inappropriate.”

  I lowered my voice to match his. “Why isn’t Schwartz taking over the A roster then?”

  “Because he declined. You know he’s thinking about retiring.” Captain Schwartz was in his sixties and handled the B roster, which was basically when the A pilot was on vacation or sick.

  I jerked my chin toward the front of the jet. “I bet I know why you hired her.” The accusation was obviously unfair.

  “Actually, I only looked at her credentials. Tamara did the interview.”

  Of course she did. Tamara, his PA, was so in tune with his needs and wants, it was almost like having a second Mark. I slipped my heels off and tucked my legs underneath me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop my eyes from straying forward. My mile-high fantasy turned from Georgia to a noisy cockpit session with Captain Graham. Don’t be stupid, Isabelle. There’s no room up there, you’d have to drag her into the cabin. On second thought, maybe not. I already knew how flexible she was.

  Evidently, my face wasn’t as neutral as I’d hoped. Mark cleared his throat and when I looked at him, his headshake was emphatic. “I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured.

  I shrugged, lowering my voice. “Oh, I’m well beyond just thinking.” We held eye contact until his mouth fell open in realization. Yeah, me too, pal.

  He shifted his focus to stare intently at the closed cockpit curtain. I could see the wheels turning, connecting my description of last night’s bedmate with the appearance of the pilot flying us back to New York. I turned back to stare out of the window and heard Mark splutter. There was no way he’d push the subject here so I left him to let his imagination run wild.

  I should have worked but instead I did some thinking, mostly about my current state of affairs. Or the lack of. Eighty-plus hour weeks and being almost constantly at the beck and call of clients meant sacrificing some things. Like relationships, as I’d found out numerous times. In the last ten years, my longest was Steph at a record four years, eight months and twenty-four days.

  Apparently I had trust issues and used my work as a way to keep people at a distance. I’d never been able to shake the fear that women only wanted me for my wealth, so it was easier to keep them away. Especially after Steph proved me right. I longed for an easier time when my only concern was getting my homework in on time or if I should crimp my hair.

  My therapist used a lot of buzzwords, such as “fear conditioning,” “meaningful relationship goals,” and “defensive posturing.” I kept going back to her, so maybe she was on to something, or she was really good at bullshitting. Maybe I was just a gullible idiot who needed a guru. I certainly needed something.

  Perhaps the thing I really needed was someone casual. A regular fuck buddy. Someone I could call when I wanted a little relief. No emotional attachments, just a woman who knew what I liked and vice versa. Someone, like Captain Graham, who figured out pretty quickly that when she—

  Ahem. No.

  Sleeping with her again would cause too many issues but still, I planned to spend a fair amount of time fantasizing about her. On one of my glances to the cockpit, I accidentally looked at Mark. He raised an eyebrow. I averted my eyes quickly. To someone who didn’t know him, he would seem fine. But after over twelve years of friendship and nine of those as business partners, I could read him like the news. Anxious and frustrated with an undercurrent of annoyed curiosity. Goody.

  I sighed. He had every reason to feel that way. The fact I’d slept with an employee—albeit unknowingly—could be a disaster waiting to bite me in the ass. Sexual harassment lawsuit, bad publicity, lost clients. Closing my eyes, I chanted to myself I didn’t know, I didn’t know. Hopefully my truthful explanation would hold water if it ever came to it.

  Georgia passed us to knock on the paneling behind the cockpit. “Can I get you anything, Captain Graham?”

  “Coffee, same as yesterday. Thanks so much.”

  Her voice did strange things to me. Oh lord. My stomach twisted, pulse increased, thighs clenched. Oddly enough, I wondered how she took her coffee, suddenly wanting to know this little detail.

  The curtain remained open while Georgia fixed coffee, but Graham didn’t turn around again. I kept my attention out the window to stop myself from watching her, and spent the rest of the flight trying desperately to figure out if there was a way I could see her again. Such a bad idea. For all my thinking, I came up with exactly zero usable solutions.

  As we began our descent into Teterboro, the small private airport just a relative stone’s throw from Manhattan, I took a toiletries bag from my leather tote and slipped past Georgia who was playing a game on her phone. She dropped it in her lap, looking up at me guiltily. “Can I help you, Ms. Rhodes?”

  I shook my head gently. “No, it’s fine. Go back to crushing candy or whatever you’re doing.” Honestly, I didn’t give a shit that she was on her phone. I had no issues with her reading or texting her law school boyfriend or even w
riting a damned porn novel while we were in the air. It was nice having her around, but really I was just as capable of making coffee and fetching booze or snacks for myself.

  In the beginning, I’d argued against needing a hostess but Mark was insistent. It looked good when we traveled with clients, blah blah blah. A few years ago, I’d finally managed to convince Mark that Georgia didn’t need to come along when I took the jet for personal trips. He’d put his foot down when I pushed him to allow me to fly without her when it was just me for business, because a client might see. Oh the horror. He was a showman, all about image and how we presented ourselves, whereas my talents sat more with the actual money-making side of our business. Over the years, Mark and I had settled comfortably into roles that played to our strengths.

  I slipped into the lavatory and thoroughly brushed my teeth, then gargled with mouthwash. Twice. Even as I did it, I wondered why I was bothering. It wasn’t like I could grab Graham on my way out, shove her against the wall and kiss the hell out of her. Still, the thought sent a pleasant warmth through my chest. And lower.

  A glance in the mirror told me that my hair was still beyond fixable. It had just enough curl to have a mind of its own. Someone once described it as just a little kinky, a description with which I was strangely okay. I blew a strand away from my face. After rummaging in my bag for a hair stick, I gathered, twisted and stabbed my hair fiercely. I gave myself a quick respritz of perfume and fresh swipe of lipstick. All set.

  As I returned to my seat Mark made an exaggerated show of sniffing the air. “Trying to impress someone, Belle?”

  My answer was a slow eyebrow raise. Pretty sure Captain Graham was already impressed.

  Back in our hangar, Mark jumped up and rushed toward the door. His cheek muscles bulged. “You coming?”

  I fiddled with my laptop. “You go on, I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Mark rolled his eyes, and I knew I’d be in for it as soon as he could get me alone. I’d better make sure he didn’t any time soon. I popped a piece of gum in my mouth, wasted time gathering my bags and strolled toward the door. Georgia flashed me a cheery smile. “Enjoy your day, Ms. Rhodes!”