by T. A. Foster
He stepped into the lobby, just as his flight buddies walked out of the hotel. He ran after them.
“Oh, there he is.” Eagle chuckled as he threw his bag in the back of the taxi. “Nice of you to join us.”
“Dude, you barely made it. Was she worth it?” Hollywood punched him in the arm.
“Shut up.” Bolt threw his bag on top of the others.
“You know we don’t like being late, right? You’re such an asshole.” Ranger glared at the pilot.
“Whatever, you went out too. It’s not our fault you’re the one who’s married.” Bolt knew he would be hearing about this for the rest of the trip. They still had two more days of flying ahead of them. Denver today then back to Miramar tomorrow.
They climbed into the cab and directed the driver to take them to the airport.
“So who’d you end up with?” Hollywood asked as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth. “The blonde or the brunette?”
The other guys laughed.
“None of your damn business.” Bolt’s heart was still racing. He hadn’t showered or even eaten breakfast. A cup of coffee would be nice.
Eagle jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. “Must have been the blonde. That brunette was ridiculously hot, even for you Bolt.”
He cracked a smile. “Then you would be wrong.”
“What the hell man? Can’t we do one cross country where you don’t sleep with a girl in every city?” Ranger looked irritated although his shades were firmly planted on the bridge of his nose, concealing his eyes.
“Negative.” Bolt leaned into the seat. It wasn’t his problem Ranger was married and stuck to his wedding vows like a choirboy. There were beautiful women all over the world—he was missing out on what Bolt had learned was one of the best perks of being an aviator. Women loved pilots.
“Wow, you fly fighter jets? Like in the movie?” The girls had gathered around Bolt, Ranger, Hollywood, and Eagle.
The guys towered over the small group. Ranger was the shortest in the gang, and the heaviest of the four. Hollywood’s bright smile and blond hair helped him stand out in the crowd. Eagle was lean and tall with dark hair and small dark eyes. Bolt knew at twenty-seven he wasn’t bad looking. His close brown haircut and baby blue eyes had lured in more than one woman. It didn’t hurt that he had chiseled features and a workout routine that would kick most Marines’ asses.
After last night’s club hopping in Miami they decided Denver was more of a sports bar town. They chose a spot called the Goal Post.
“That’s right.” Hollywood winked at the one closest to him. She was perched on a barstool, soaking in his every word. She twirled her dark hair around her index finger.
Bolt wondered how many drinks she had already had. “Like, that is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” She batted her eyes at Hollywood. The other girls seemed equally impressed.
Wait until they heard why he was called Hollywood. It usually was the last piece of bait he tossed into the tank before reeling them in. It worked every time.
Bolt surveyed tonight’s options. He wasn’t going to swoop in on the girl talking to Hollywood. There was a code there that wasn’t worth breaking. Ranger distanced himself from the female attention and sat at the end of the bar with his beer. Looked like he was checking the basketball scores on the screen.
“Is it dangerous?” she asked, her eyes wide.
Hollywood leaned against the bar and looked directly into her brown eyes. “Yes, very.”
Bolt laughed, shaking his head as the three girls gasped. College girls were too easy, but Hollywood was obviously enjoying it.
“I don’t even know you, but I’m already worried about you,” she sighed.
Hollywood put his arm around her shoulder. “Well, let me buy you a drink, we can get to know each other.”
She perked up. “Ok. That would be good.” She turned to smile at her friends, then back to Hollywood. “I’m Joni.”
He ushered her to a corner booth where the blare of the basketball game playing on the flat screens wasn’t as loud.
Eagle addressed the remaining two. “So are you two at the University of Denver?”
They were both cute. Maybe juniors or seniors. They looked old enough not to need fake IDs, but clearly they didn’t want to hang out at college bars. Their short dresses were a sure sign.
Bolt assessed the situation. Eagle wasn’t much of a ladies’ man. God love him, he tried, but usually fell flat on his face. He stepped in front of his friend before things got worse. “Can we buy you girls a drink?” He looked from one to the other.
They giggled and nodded. “Yes.”
Eagle slapped his friend on the back. It wasn’t the first time Bolt had rescued him from certain failure.
The girl with large doe eyes looked at Bolt. “Are you pilots too?”
He smiled. “Maybe.” He held up two fingers toward the bartender, and turned his attention back to the female audience.
He handed each of them a cold bottled beer before taking a sip. The friend clasped slender fingers tipped with pink polish around the label and shot Bolt a take-me-to-bed-now stare. He knew his problem tonight wouldn’t be deciding which girl would go to his room, but which girl Eagle had a shot with.
He and Eagle had flown together for over a year. Since Bolt had joined the Rebels squadron straight off his Afghanistan tour, no one else had flown in his backseat. As long as he could help it, he didn’t want anyone else back there. He trusted him, knew he always had his back, and tonight he would do the same.
“How long are you in Denver?” It was the doe eyed girl asking again. She had soft lips and light brown hair. She played with her long curls while absorbing Bolt’s every move.
Eagle rotated toward her. “Only for the night. We have to fly back to San Diego tomorrow.”
“Oh, well that’s too bad.” The girl with the fingernails snaked her hand around Bolt’s arm, giving it a squeeze.
Bolt laughed. “I don’t see how it’s bad. It just means we have to make every second of tonight count.” In that moment he made the decision this one was probably too much for Eagle to handle. He held out a hand. “I’m Ben.”
“Penny.” She bit her lower lip before slipping into a smile.
Twenty minutes later he had her pressed against his hotel wall, her pink nails digging into his back, her dress hiked above her hips.
“This. Is. Amazing!” she screamed. Her legs tightened against his waist.
Sometimes it didn’t happen until the end, but he felt the numbness spread through his body and he smiled. He closed his eyes as he pushed deeper, forcing thoughts and warnings out of his head. He wanted the numbness—he searched for it—he needed his body to take over and quiet his brain to white stillness.
Penny clung to his shoulders, her head thrown back. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.” Raspy pleas escaped her lips.
In a single motion, he gripped her by the ass and hauled her to the bed, where he positioned her on the edge of the mattress. It was as if she could read his mind. She wrapped her ankles around his torso, and he immediately began the rhythm again. He closed his eyes as the numbness took over.
“So, you think you’ll be back in Denver anytime soon? I’ve got spring break coming up.” Penny adjusted her bra strap and reached for her discarded dress.
Grateful he had remembered to set the alarm on his phone last night, Bolt leaned over the sink and brushed his teeth. Sometimes the morning after was painfully awkward, and the girl would try to trap him into a return trip. Sometimes the girl was casual about it, and he knew she was interested in what he was—spending the night together in the most enjoyable way possible. No strings. No commitments. No phone numbers. No promises. All of a sudden, he thought Penny might not be the one-night-of-fun girl he thought she was. Though, in her defense, he didn’t spend anytime getting to know her. He left her friend with the big doe eyes with Eagle and raced her back to the hotel before either of them had finished one beer. Other than she was a
screamer with wicked nails, he didn’t know a damn thing about her.
“Wouldn’t that be cool?” He spit a mouthful of toothpaste in the sink. “We’re headed back to San Diego this afternoon, and I’m headed out of the country next month.”
“Out of the country?” She shook her long curly hair out around her shoulders. He realized she looked even younger than she did in the bar.
“Yep. I’m deploying for awhile.” He turned off the bathroom light and threw his shaving kit into his flight bag.
“Well, maybe I could change my spring break plans to San Diego. I know Trish would understand.” She shoved her right foot into a boot that zipped to her knee. “I could see you off.”
Bolt winced. Dammit, this was not good. “Look, why don’t you stay and order some room service on me? I’ve got to get to the jet and the guys are waiting on me for briefing, but you should at least enjoy breakfast.”
He bent toward her for a kiss, but she turned her cheek away from his lips.
“Room service? You’re paying me off for sex with breakfast?”
Shit. He didn’t like it when they got mad. “No. No. I just wanted to do something nice for you, and I don’t have time to take you to breakfast. The guys are already waiting for me in the lobby.” He smiled, hoping she believed him. He never had time for breakfast.
Penny relaxed on the bed. “Whew. Ok. For a second I thought this whole thing was a one-night stand, and I was getting ready to call you an asshole and every other name I could think of, but you don’t seem like a dick. I mean, you seem super sweet and so hot, but I’ve never done anything like that and—”
He couldn’t let her keep talking. He had to exit now and fast. With his bag over his shoulder he backed toward the door.
“Last night was fun, Penny. I’ll call you.” He pulled the door behind him and rushed to the elevator.
Ranger and Hollywood pulled beside Bolt and Eagle and parked their jet next to them. They opened their canopies almost in unison. “Smell that sweet California air.” Hollywood shouted from the seat behind Ranger.
All four unhooked their gear and climbed out on the side ladders. The two jets had returned with no mechanical problems and nothing significant to report to command. Ranger, the lead pilot, despite his annoyance with the womanizing and bar hopping, was pleased with the mission.
Ranger patted Bolt on the back. “Good flight home, dude.”
“Yeah. Clear skies. Perfect day for flying.” Bolt inhaled a whiff of jet fuel on the Miramar tarmac. He retrieved his flight bag from the gear pod under the wing.
It only took ninety minutes to make it back to San Diego. Almost record time for F/A-18 jets.
Hollywood handed Ranger his gear. “I bet your wife’s waiting for you.”
Ranger’s face lit up as he strained to see if anyone was standing in the hanger. “She always is.”
Anyone who went on the road with Ranger knew Caroline, his wife, was always prepared for their arrival with cookies or brownies for all the guys. Sure, they gave him a hard time about his weight, but they never rejected the desserts she handed out. They admitted they would easily gain ten pounds too if they lived with someone who baked constantly.
“Alright, guys. Who is up for a drink at the O-club?” Hollywood pulled his shades from his pocket.
Bolt shook his head. “The O-club? We go there every Friday night. Let’s go downtown. We’re in San Diego.”
“Oh, downtown? Since when is the O-club not good enough for you, Bolt?” Hollywood popped a piece of gum in his mouth.
“It’s not that, man. I just want to go downtown. A different scene for Friday night. I’m tired of the nurses.”
Eagle unclipped the buckles on his suit as they approached the hangar door. “You’re crazy. The nurses are awesome. Maybe you should just try one nurse instead of all of them.”
Bolt didn’t want to argue about it. Eagle probably had good luck with the regular girls who partied at the base’s biggest gathering spot, but Bolt had dated half of them and he needed some place new.
“You guys go to the O-club, hang out with the same girls and I’ll be downtown if you want to meet up later.” He watched as Ranger pushed ahead and jogged toward Caroline. She was standing with three extra plastic containers. Looked like brownies this time.
Eagle and Hollywood exchanged glances. “Whatever, dude. We’ll catch up with you later.”
“Later.” Bolt walked toward his truck. He had parked behind the hangar before they left four days ago on the cross-country trip. He checked his watch. It was early enough he could head to his condo, shower, and hit the bars.
“This can’t be happening. I worked on that proposal for six months. Six crazy, intense, I-canceled-every-plan-in-my-life months.”
“Skye, it’s not personal. You know it’s business. You heard what they said. Upper management appreciated your ideas.”
The raven haired brunette stormed across the office, throwing a black file across her desk. “Appreciated them so much they’re going to use them, but I don’t get the account. Greg gets the account with my ideas!” She slumped in her chair, kicking her five-inch heels to the side.
“Well, that’s a crappy way to look at it. You know I’m upset for you, right?”
Skye looked at her co-worker and friend. “Kari, only you would try to see the silver lining in this bullshit.” She sighed. “There were two slots on this account and there is no reason one of them shouldn’t be mine. I should be leading this campaign. I earned it. I deserve it.”
“Ok, so what we need is a girls’ night.” Kari smiled. “You have a free weekend now, right? It’s time you unwind a little. Loosen up and have a good time. I think you’ve forgotten there’s more to life than work.”
Skye glared at her. “Not helping.”
“Right. Remember silver lining. We can go to the new bar in the Gaslamp district. It’s right around the corner from your place. It will be fun.” She pulled her phone from her purse. “I’m going to check in right now for reservations.”
“No. Don’t, Kari. I’m the worst company right now.” She shuffled one of the graphics she had made of the zoo and sighed. All this beautiful work for nothing.
Her friend held up the phone and tapped in a reservation time. “All done. Don’t you love these new apps?”
Skye growled. “One drink. But I’m warning you. I’m not going to be any fun, no matter how awesome the bar is.” Kari had tried to drag her downtown for months. At least she would make her friend happy even if she was feeling miserable.
“Got it. One drink. Meet me there at eight. I have a new dress I’m going to wear. What about you?” Kari peered over the monstrous desk that took up most of the space in Skye’s office.
“Um, what’s wrong with this?” She glanced down at her black suit. It was her power suit. The one that was supposed to scream ‘I am a competent, intelligent, kick-ass advertising executive’. Today, it had failed miserably.
“Nothing. I love that suit on you. But I thought you might want to go home and change.” Kari picked up her purse and waited by the door.
Skye shrugged her shoulders. “Nah. I might as well pull together all of the files for Greg now so I don’t have to do on Monday morning. I’ll just wipe this account out of my office before I meet you. I don’t want to be reminded Monday that I lost it.”
She scrunched her nose. It still hadn’t sunk in what had happened this afternoon. She was positive she was going to run point on the San Diego tourism ad campaign. It had been her project for six months, and today it had been ripped from her hands.
“I’m just glad you agreed to go. I’ll see you at eight.” Kari waved good-bye to her friend before turning for the elevators.
“I’ll be there.” Skye returned to the task of organizing the files and figuring out how she could hand over all this hard work. Disappointment didn’t even begin to describe the void that had suddenly opened in her chest.
“What can I get you? Are you alone?” The w
aiter placed a cocktail napkin in front of Skye. Now that she had actually made it to the bar, she started to regret not changing out of her suit. Sure, it was chic but compared to the cute club clothes surrounding her it looked stuffy. Although, that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was stuffy.
“Can I take a look at your wine list?” She smiled nervously. Kari should have beaten her here. It took longer to box up the tourism reports than she thought. She checked her phone again but there was nothing from her co-worker. She decided to give her ten more minutes before calling.
The waiter returned with a leather-bound list. “Here you go.” He scornfully glanced at the empty seat across from her.
She ignored what he was insinuating. She had not been stood up. “Thanks. I’ll take the California Moscato.” She pointed to one in the middle of the page. Fifteen dollars for one glass of wine seemed outrageous, but that was part of San Diego living.
Skye had been in the city three years. After she graduated from college, she interned in Chicago for a year before landing her current job. She knew she was young, but she had spent three full years pouring her energy into this position. It didn’t take long to realize she wouldn’t move up the corporate ladder if she didn’t start knocking away at some of the rungs. Advertising was exciting, but cutthroat. Today was a prime example.
The waiter placed the chilled glass in front of her. “Is your date a no show?” He smirked.
“No—she’s my—” There was no point in explaining the situation. “No.”
He walked away as she reached for her phone. Kari had officially surpassed the safe time to be late. Skye dialed her number.
“Kari? Are you ok?”
“Oh, Skye. I feel terrible.” There was a muffled sound.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think it was the sushi we ordered at lunch. I have a terrible stomach something. I’m so sorry—hold on—” Skye thought she might have heard retching. She cringed.
