Playboy Pilot

by Penelope Ward

“So tell me, Kendall Sparks. Why are you on this trip? What is it that you are trying to find?”

  I was embarrassed to admit the truth. I didn’t want Carter to know how shallow and desperate I was. How much control money had over my life. “If I told you, you would think I was horrible. That I needed therapy for what I was likely going to do.”

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t.”

  “You would.”

  “Would not.”

  “We’re all fucked up in some way. All have secrets to keep and crosses to bear in life.”

  I scoffed. “Maybe. But I’m more fucked up than most.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Well I’m more fucked up than you. You have a great job, own a place in Florida, and know how to enjoy life.”

  “Is that what you think? That your story is more fucked up than mine and you’ll look bad?”

  I nodded. “Maybe.”

  Carter looked up at the sky for a while and then started to speak quietly. “I was sixteen when I met Lucy Langella. She had long black hair, big blue eyes, and wrote poetry. We were together for more than two years. She was my first, and for a long time, I really thought she would be my last. Thought I was in love. Told her I loved her even.

  During our senior year in high school, she started to change. She never wanted to go out, and she slept a lot. It was senior year—parties, friends, sports, road trips—I wanted to do it all. For a while I could get her to do things with me, but it became harder and harder as the months went on. She started to have some crazy mood swings, too. It got to the point where I had no idea what Lucy I was going to get when I went to her house. So I slowed up on going to her house. Basically, I was eighteen and thought she was becoming boring. She had been a better student than me, and when we first started dating we had talked about both applying to the University of Michigan. When the time came to send out college applications, she didn’t even send any. By the time we graduated, she rarely went out, and being around her was a total downer.

  The summer before college started, I knew I had to break it off before I moved three hours away for school. When I did it, she cried for a week. I felt like shit because all she kept saying was, ‘You told me you loved me. You told me you loved me.’”

  Carter stopped talking for a minute. Then he cleared his throat and continued. “My first day of college, I’d just finished classes and brought a girl I’d met at orientation back to my dorm room. We ended up in my bed, and my cell phone kept ringing while I was screwing a girl I’d just met. Thought college was the greatest thing in the world that day.” He scoffed and shook his head. “The next morning, I looked at my phone and saw that all the calls had been from Lucy. I didn’t call her back. Another day passed, and I was in bed with my new girl when it started happening again. My phone was ringing over and over. But when the name flashed on my screen, I noticed it was my mother. I knew if she called that many times, something had to be wrong. So I picked it up. She was hysterically crying.” Carter stopped again, staring down at our entwined ankles in the sand. “Lucy had committed suicide. What I thought was boring was clinically depressed.”

  I gasped. “Oh my God, Carter. You couldn’t have known.”

  “Anyway. Today you asked me what the significance of the song I sing every time I take off is. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. I’m singing the Beatles to my dead ex-girlfriend every time I start to fly into the sky. And you think you’re the one who’s fucked up?”

  “I’m sorry. That’s horrible that you went through that.”

  “Thank you. But I didn’t tell you this story so you would have sympathy for me. It’s your turn, Perky. I bet it will make you feel better to share whatever it is that’s been bothering you. Plus, I want to hear how my beautiful girl got so screwed up that she’s traveling to foreign countries with the likes of me.”

  “You won’t look at me differently after I tell you?” Even though we had less than twelve hours left, the thought upset me.

  “Not a chance.”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath and started at the beginning. “My grandfather, Rutherford Sparks, was a very rich man. He was also domineering, eccentric, racist, homophobic, and controlling. And very much a chauvinist. Lucky for him, he had two sons and no daughters. But the first son died at age four of pneumonia. The second was my father who is Rutherford Sparks the Third. I should note that Rutherford Sparks, Jr., was my father’s older brother who died before he was born.

  My dad died five years ago of a heart attack. So my grandfather basically buried his two children, both his namesakes. Even though I was only nineteen when my father passed, my grandfather began pushing me to have a child. He literally started harping on me at my dad’s funeral, demanding that I have a child as soon as possible—a boy, of course—so that he could be sure that his precious name lived on. I had no interest in having a child, so I kept ignoring him, even though he basically funded my lavish lifestyle since the day I was born.

  Anyway, without boring you with all the details, my grandfather died two years ago. I have a trust fund that pays for all of my living expenses, but that cuts off when I reach the ripe old age of twenty-five. There’s a second trust fund, one that is worth millions of dollars, that was also left to me. However, my grandfather put a little condition on that one. In order for me to receive the funds, I am required to have a male child by the time I turn twenty-six. Oh…and the child must be named Rutherford Sparks.”

  “Is that shit even legal?”

  “Apparently so. I had my lawyers look into it. Restrictions on trusts are common. The only time a court will strike the restriction is if it’s illegal or against public policy.”

  “Isn’t forcing someone to have a baby against public policy?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “So, you’re thinking about having a baby and that’s why you took this trip?”

  “Actually…this is the part that wins me the contest for being the most fucked-up. I figured out a small loophole in my grandfather’s will. I have to give birth to a male heir, but I don’t have to keep the child. Most normal people would assume that it’s implied that when you intentionally have a child, you keep it. I’m not ready to have a child. But there are plenty of gay couples who are ready to have children and can’t. So I have an appointment in nine days with a married gay couple in Germany. I would be inseminated with the sperm from both men that is genetically modified to ensure that I had a boy. After I gave birth, little Rutherford Sparks would be theirs. Foreign countries are less restrictive with genetic modification of pre-implanted embryos. That’s why I’m doing it outside of the United States.”

  Carter shook his head up and down a few times and grinned. “Shit. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but it’s a close one. I’m not sure who wins the contest.”

  Oddly, as much as I was disgusted with myself and ashamed of what I was considering doing, I felt a weight lifted off of my shoulders by telling Carter. He didn’t seem to judge me at all either. He was just staring out at the water.

  “What are you thinking about right now?”

  He laughed. “If I tell you, I might slant the contest in my favor.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I was picturing you pregnant and thinking you’re going to look fucking hot with a big belly and swollen tits.”

  “You would.”

  The two of us cracked up for a while after that. Even Carter seemed a little lighter after our conversation.

  “Alright. Anything else I should know about you, Sparks?”

  “I divulged one thing. You divulged one thing. We’re even, Captain.”

  “I want to know more.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “You sure you don’t have a boyfriend back home?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Have there been a lot of boyfriends?”

  “No, not serious ones.”

  “You’ve never been in love?”

  Looking over at the waves, an old
familiar ache developed in my chest. It was the second time today I’d thought about Emilio. I finally answered, “Once.”

  “What happened?”

  It had been years since I’d opened up this old wound. This night was getting way too deep for me to handle. Still, I wanted to tell Carter everything there was to know about me; I didn’t understand where that need was coming from.

  “Emilio was a ranch hand who worked on our property back when I was a teenager. We started spending a lot of time together, particularly when my parents weren’t home. We would ride the horses, talk about normal teenage things—our hopes and dreams. It was so refreshing being with him because none of our conversations had to do with money or the aristocratic lifestyle that had been shoved down my face from the time I was born. With Emilio, I was just Kendall—not some girl with money and a thousand expectations weighing her down. Talking to him and riding horses together in the wind…those were some of the best memories of my life. Whenever I was with him, I felt like my true self. I felt free.”

  “From the look on your face right now, I’m getting a sense things didn’t end well.”

  Shaking my head, I continued, “Emilio wasn’t exactly legal. He and his family had fled Mexico. At one point, I found out that he’d been helping take care of a sick family friend, who was also an illegal alien. He never once asked me for help, Carter. I had to beg him to let me help him.”

  “What did you do?”

  “She was a middle-aged woman. Her name was Wanda, and she suffered from polycystic kidney disease, needing constant dialysis to live. She was getting weaker by the day. We had this old guesthouse on the property. I snuck her in there, basically gave her food and shelter, tried to take care of her as best as possible. But what she really needed was a new kidney. She had a family member who was willing to donate one, but they couldn’t afford the surgery.”

  “That was really nice of you to take care of her like that.“

  “Well, it made me feel like I had a purpose for the first time in my life. Not to mention, I was falling in love with Emilio and would have done anything for him at that point.”

  When I started to tear up, Carter placed his hand on my cheek. “What happened, Kendall?”

  “My parents came home early from a trip one weekend and caught me in the guesthouse with Wanda and Emilio. I was begging and pleading with my father. At one point, my emotions got the best of me, and I stupidly blurted out that I was in love with Emilio. My father threatened to have them both arrested and deported.”

  Carter cringed. “Did he do that?”

  “When he found out about Wanda’s ailment, he calmed down a bit. But he absolutely would not accept my being with Emilio. He bargained with me. He said he would pay for Wanda’s kidney transplant, provided Emilio and Wanda never set foot on the property again and with the understanding that I never saw Emilio again.”

  He blew out a long breath. “I think I know where this is going.”

  “Yeah. So…I couldn’t, in good conscience, deny Wanda her life for my own selfish need to be with this boy. Emilio and I both agreed that was the way it had to be. My father made all of the arrangements, Wanda had her surgery, and I never saw Emilio again.”

  “You did the right thing, Kendall.”

  “I tried to find him after that, but because of his illegal status, there was no real record of him or his family. I had one address where I knew they’d stayed, but when I went there some months after the surgery, it was abandoned.” I looked up at the sky. “That’s really where the story ends.”

  “I’m sorry, Perky. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

  “Well, that whole experience definitely had a huge impact on my life, made me afraid to open up to anyone ever again, for fear of hurting them or getting hurt. In the years since, I’ve just learned to suppress my feelings and go with the motions.”

  “Well, I’d say you did a pretty damn good job of opening up tonight, but I think we need a break.” Eventually, he stood and offered his hand. “What do you say we go get shit-faced?”

  “I think that would be a perfect conclusion to our evening of confessions.”

  WE WERE BOTH PRETTY DRUNK when we stumbled into our room at Maria Rosa’s that night. Carter was lying in the bed with his hands folded behind his head when I came out of the bathroom after getting changed.

  “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight,” I said.

  “I was thinking we could share the bed tonight. I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise. But I want to hold you in my arms while we sleep. I don’t even care that I sound like a pussy saying that. Because it’s the truth.”

  I didn’t even have to think about it. “I’d love that.”

  Carter held open his arms for me, and I climbed into bed and rested my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around me so tight, and I clung to him. It felt so good to be held by him. But my feelings were conflicted. The thought of leaving tomorrow morning caused a physical ache in my chest. I had to choke back tears while I reveled in how good his touch felt. Neither of us said another word after that, and it felt right to lie in silence on our final night together. His heartbeat eventually lulled me to sleep.

  The next morning, we both overslept. Racing around and bumping into each other, we took quick showers and packed our bags. Carter had to be at the airport by nine, and it was already eight, and we had an hour drive ahead of us. Rather than risk waiting for a taxi, Maria Rosa drove us to the airport.

  When we arrived at the outbound terminal, I was barely able to keep my tears at bay. This was really it. The thought of never seeing Carter again was sickening. I’d only spent two days with him, yet I felt like he knew me better than most people. I got out when he did so I could say goodbye. He rattled off something in Portuguese to Maria and then handed her cash.

  After he unloaded his luggage, the two of us stood facing each other at the back of the Jeep. “Maria is going to take you to the Westin. She knows where it is. While you were in the shower, I took your phone and programmed in her number. If you need anything, call her. She’s a little loco, but she’s good people.”

  “Okay.”

  He cupped both my cheeks into his hands. “Don’t go braless and talk to strange Brazilian men in bars. Got it?”

  I nodded.

  “Now give me a damn kiss already. I’ve been good for two days. No way in hell I’m letting you walk out of my life without a little taste.”

  Before I could say a word, which obviously would have been yes, please, Carter’s mouth crashed down on mine. My knees went totally limp. My pulse was racing as he pulled me tightly against his body. He groaned when I wrapped my arms around him just as hard as he was holding me. Our tongues frantically collided, neither of us willing to waste another second before it was too late. We needed to taste each other, feel each other, say it all with that one kiss. When he started to release my mouth, I moaned and the kiss ramped up again. Even hungrier this time. I had no idea how long it lasted, I just knew when it ended, I was going to be devastated.

  Carter leaned his forehead against mine. “Thank you for everything, Perky.”

  “You took care of me for two days. I should be the one thanking you.”

  “Nothing to thank me for. It was my pleasure. I’d stay right here with you if I could. Fucking hate leaving you. Especially after that kiss.”

  A tear fell down my face, and Carter caught it with his thumb. “Whatever decision you make, it’s the right one. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. Promise me that.”

  “I promise.”

  We kissed a few more times. “Gotta fly, beautiful. You take care of yourself.”

  “You too.”

  I watched as he walked to the door. He turned and waved one last time before disappearing inside. Then I cried like a baby.

  ALMOST IMMEDIATELY AFTER walking through those automatic doors, it just felt wrong—unnatural—to have said goodbye to her.

  You fucking idiot.

  I spotted a
few members of my crew approaching; their rolling suitcases sounded like fingernails against a chalkboard. Two of the flight attendants were chatting in another corner. One of them winked at me, and I offered her a slight nod.

  I looked around at the lines of people. A feeling of emptiness consumed me. For the first time in years, I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to fly. I didn’t want to escape to the next destination. All I wanted was to return to that car, head back to Maria Rosa’s and hold Kendall again. Even after that whacked out inheritance shit she’d confessed to, she was all I wanted right now.

  I missed her already, and it hadn’t even been a full five minutes. I’d programmed her number into my phone earlier, so I impulsively dialed it. There was no answer.

  So, with my heart pounding, I sent her a text.

  Remind me why we just said goodbye?

  I sent another.

  Because for the life of me, I can’t think of one damn good reason.

  Another.

  What would you say if I told you I wasn’t ready to let you go just yet?

  After several minutes, there was still no response. Sweating through my polyester uniform, I decided to do something rash.

  I went to the ticket counter and purchased her a seat on my flight. I didn’t even have her email, so I had the e-ticket sent to the email address on Maria Rosa’s psychic website. It was a long shot. There was almost no chance of her getting back here from the hotel in time to board. But I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if didn’t at least try.

  I have no idea if you’ll get this in time, but I just sent you a ticket to get on my flight. Ask Maria to check her email account. It’s in there. We leave in just over an hour. You’d need to grab your stuff and jet back here. No pressure, but I would love nothing more than to continue our little adventure. If the answer is no, I’ll understand.

  I chuckled at my attempt to seem casual. “No pressure.” What I really wanted to say was, “Kendall, get your ass back here because I can’t imagine how I’m gonna breathe through this fucking flight without you.”