My friends both nodded at Mr. Larson and hurried toward the back of the plane, whispering and giggling to each other as they went. I turned to do the same, careful not to make eye contact as I went, and was almost to the safety of the back of the plane when the new co-pilot spoke up.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Is it about Captain Stevens?” I asked, turning and doing my best to look professional and not at all shook up as I did. “Because I can assure you, he’s harmless. I know he doesn’t always come off that way.”
“No, actually, it’s not about him. I kind of pegged him as harmless right off, you know? All bark, no bite?”
“That sounds about right,” I said, toying with my hair despite the fact that I didn’t really want to be flirting with this man. “And the bark gets worse, depending on how things outside of work are going. Or at least, that’s what I’ve come to believe.”
“I have no doubt. Now can I ask you a different kind of question? A question that doesn’t have anything to do with Fred and the source of his bark?”
“Of course, you can,” I answered breathlessly, wondering if the girls were hearing any of this in the back. “Although, I can’t promise to have the answer.”
“Something tells me that you will, seeing as it’s about you.”
“About me? What about me?”
“I was just wondering,” he asked. “Do you like to fly?”
“Well sure, it’s my job.”
“Right, I know that,” he said. “And that’s the answer that makes the most sense. But outside of the sensical answer, do you like it? Do you like being up in the air?”
“I love it,” I answered quickly, all of my hesitation momentarily gone. “I love it more than almost anything else on earth.”
“Tell me why,” he said.
“I love meeting new people all of the time, whether the passengers or the other crew. I love wondering what kinds of lives those people lead, where they’re going and where they’ve been. I love the idea that these planes could take us anywhere in the world. All we have to do is decide where we want to go.”
As soon as I stopped talking, I felt a wave of embarrassment flood my body. I'd meant to answer him, sure, but I hadn't meant to go into such specifics. The things I'd just told him were things I never said out loud, not to anyone. I couldn't understand what had made me just unload all of my thoughts on this man, who I didn't even know. All I knew was that I didn't want him asking me any follow-up questions, and so I turned his own question around on him in a preemptive strike.
“And what’s your answer?”
“To what, whether or not I like to fly?” he asked.
“No, actually, I think I already know the answer to that,” I said. “Something tells me you love it. But why? What’s your reason?”
“I love the control. The feeling of having total control over something so magnificent as an airplane. There’s nothing else like it. There’s no rush better in the world.”
It was a straightforward enough answer, but the way he looked at me when he was done talking wasn't straightforward at all. His eyes began on my face, but from there, they moved down slowly, taking in every inch of my body as they roved. Every place his eyes landed felt suddenly naked, like he had the power to take anything he wanted with his eyes alone. I felt frozen under the weight of his gaze, and if it hadn't been for the sound of Fred's voice ringing out from the cockpit, I didn’t know what would have happened.
“Hey! Pretty boy! Any chance you’re going to come up here and do some actual work? Or were you just going to talk to that pretty young thing all day and night?”
“Coming,” Drew called over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving my body. “On my way. As for you,” he directed his words at me, that intensity still all over his face. “It was good to meet you. Very good to meet you, in fact. I look forward to getting to know each other better while I’m working with your crew.”
His eyes did one more quick up and down movement, and then he was off, headed towards the cockpit so quickly that it was hard to believe that the two of us had ever had a conversation to begin with. I immediately set my mind to remembering that one of my hard rules was that I would never date a pilot, no matter what.
I had spent enough time with pilots to know exactly what they were like, and it wasn't what I was looking for. They were arrogant and inconsistent and would only come in and out of my life. And not just my life, but Emma's as well. A pilot was the last thing I wanted for myself, but as I made my way to the back of the plane, I found that I couldn't quite get Drew's searching eyes out of my mind. They were still roaming up and down the length of my body, and no matter how many times I shook my head to clear his image, I couldn't quite manage it.
“Enough, silly girl,” I whispered to myself, annoyed by how girlishly foolish I was behaving. “Just stop it. That guy is off limits, no ifs, ands, or buts.”
Chapter 4: Drew
“I ever tell you about that time I had with the Chinese hooker, pretty boy?”
I was getting pretty goddamn sick of him calling me pretty boy. “Wait, Fred, are you telling me your Chinese hooker was a pretty boy?”
“What?” he asked, scowling.
“I mean, it’s fine if that’s what you’re in to,” I said, not letting him continue. “But I don’t really want to hear the story if that’s the case.”
“No, you dipshit,” he said. “I was calling you pretty boy.”
“Well, stop,” I said firmly. “That’s just fucking weird, man.”
Fred narrowed his eyes and stared straight ahead for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. “Okay, fair enough,” he said. “No more ‘pretty boy’.”
“Good,” I said.
"So anyway, this Chinese hooker, who was most definitely a woman,” Fred continued, almost as if I hadn’t interrupted him at all. “Let's just say, a Chinese hooker in Taiwan is a recipe for disaster, especially when you've been on a drinking binge for a week. I almost don't want to elaborate, but boy, you know I'm going to. You don't hardly know me at all, and I bet you already know that much."
I smiled and nodded to show that I was listening, but my mind was as far away from this conversation as it could get. We were already halfway through our flight, and I hadn't been able to stop thinking about the little blonde flight attendant.
When I had first seen her in the Pilots’ Lounge, I had known immediately that she was the kind of chick I would want to bang. When I found her on my flight, that temptation had become far more real. I wasn't even sure if she had given me her name, for Christ's sake. I didn't think she had, and I didn't think Fred had, either, but I also didn't really give a damn.
It wasn't like I was interested in her for her life story. I wasn't even sure why I had asked for her opinion on flying, except that I hadn't wanted her to walk away from me quite yet. Sure, her answer, and the passion I could sense behind it, was more interesting than I had anticipated, but that didn't mean I legitimately wanted to get to know her. I didn't want that. I just wanted her.
I wasn't any more interested in dating her than I was in dating any other woman on the planet. I wanted to fuck her, and I wanted it badly. That wasn't typically something I really had to give much thought to, seeing as Fred's over the top assessment of my prowess with women had been pretty on point.
Usually, when it came to women, I just had to flash a smile at the one I wanted, and she practically fell into my bed. It wasn't something I gave much thought to. It was just the way things were. There was something about this chick, though, that made me think it might not be quite that easy. I had no clue where that idea was coming from, only that something told me it was correct. If I was going to get this chick into my bed, it was going to require a different kind of approach. That, I was certain of. What I wasn't so sure about was if it was worth the effort it might require.
“Hey, Boy, you listening to me?” Fred asked.
“Tales of the hooker from hell, right? Weird uses for ch
op sticks, face like a hammered wok, and banging that ass like a gong? Don’t worry, Fred, I’m right here with ya.”
You racist asshole.
“I’m sure I could tell you some stories that would turn your blood cold,” I said.
I couldn't, in fact, at least not when it came to things like prostitutes. A prostitute was something I had never needed and never once considered looking into. I wasn't interested in trying to swap my life story with Fred Stevens. I just wanted him to be sure enough that I was paying attention to him for him to be content. I'd never been a huge fan of flying with an overly chatty pilot, and this yahoo was no exception. I just wanted him off my back so that we could land this plane safely, and so that I was free to think the situation with the little blonde over.
“Once again, pretty boy—”
“Call me ‘pretty boy’ one more time, Fred, and I’m about break some serious FAA regulations by throwing you off this fucking plane.” My fists clenched as my patience finally ran all the way out.
“Fine, fine, whatever you say. The point I was trying to make, before you so rudely interrupted me, was that you don’t seem like you have to pay for it. Which is why I highly doubt that you’ve got a whole lot of hooker stories of your very own. But hey? What the hell do I know? Different strokes for different folks, am I right?”
“I believe you are, Fred,” I said, shaking my head. I was astounded by how stereotypically male this guy was. “I believe I would have to agree with you there.”
“Good. I certainly do value being agreed with, Drew. That’s something you should know about me if we’re going to be flying together. Now, I gotta piss like a Russian racehorse. Why don’t you go ahead and ring the intercom so I can see to it?”
I nodded, doing as he asked without comment. This, at least, was nothing out of the ordinary. It was one of the rules of flying that no pilot was supposed to be in the cockpit on his own. Any time one of us needed to do anything that took us outside of it, we were required to call in one of the flight attendants, just for safety’s sake. They all knew the protocol and were primed to expect that sort of a call. Only a few moments passed before there was a knock at our cockpit door. I glanced up at the screen that let us see who was on the other side of the door and smiled a little. It was the blonde flight attendant, the one I’d been interested in checking out a little bit further. I grabbed Fred’s arm as he stood, finally ready with a question of my own.
"What's that one's name?" I asked nonchalantly, indicating the grainy image of the hot little blonde. "I don't want to seem like too big of an asshole, you know?"
“Well, I can’t help you with that part, but the girl’s name is Jess. Pretty little thing, ain’t she? Little too quiet for my taste, but still a pretty little thing.”
He coughed loudly and cleared his throat, doing these things practically in Jess' face as he opened the door and slid past her. It was, frankly, disgusting, and I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd said something to him about it, or at least made a face. Instead, she only smiled at him, all business, and sat in the seat Fred had been occupying as he loudly shut the door.
“Sorry about that,” I said conversationally, never taking my eyes off of the night sky to look at her as I spoke.
“Sorry about what? I can’t see that you’ve done anything you shouldn’t have.”
“No, I know,” I said. “I just can’t imagine that you girls love being on restroom duty for grown men.”
“Doesn’t bother me. It’s just part of the job, right? Besides, it’s not like I’m going to go very far while we’re up here.”
“True, very true,” I said. “Not unless you’ve got some serious skills nobody knows about, skills like sprouting wings.”
"No, unfortunately, I've got nothing like that. Can you imagine, though?"
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean what if we could? What if we could just take off and fly all on our own? I literally can’t imagine anything more amazing than that, especially on a night like this.”
“A night like what?”
“A night so beautiful,” she said. “I mean, look how clear the sky is right now! Look at all of those stars. It makes the whole world look more beautiful, you know? It makes everything, even the things that are only ordinary in the day, feel like it’s made of magic. At least for me. I’ve always loved the way it looks to fly at night, especially when we’re over the cities. There’s just something about it.”
“You know what? If I’m being honest? I’ve never thought about it that way.”
I could see her embarrassment at how quickly I dismissed her zealous description of a night flight, and part of me wanted to deck myself in the face. If I was trying to get her into bed, this was probably not the way to do it.
On the other hand, something about the way she spoke was sort of interesting to me. It was more interesting to me than I had expected it to be, just as she'd been when I had spoken to her earlier. It was enough to make me want to further explain myself, which was something I almost never did.
“I guess I don’t think about life that way,” I said. “I don’t think about flying that way.”
"You take a much more matter of fact, business approach to it, don't you?” she asked. “That would be my guess anyway, if I had to make one."
“I guess you could say that. I’ve never thought much about the beauty of the world around me while I fly. I’ve never thought about the beauty of any of it, aside from the act of flying itself. That’s what I love. The ability to do it. I love that I can fly when so many other people don’t have a clue how to do it.”
Jess laughed and tucked a lock of her almost white blonde hair behind one ear. As she looked out of the wide cockpit windows, there was a split second where I wanted to take it all back. I had told her the God's honest truth. There was no denying it. I never looked at the land below me and considered it to be beautiful. I didn't consider it to be much of anything, but when I looked at Jess looking at the world rushing by below us I could almost see what she was talking about. She looked from the dark world to me and laughed again, making me feel self-conscious for the first time in as long as I could remember.
“Laughing at me, huh?” I asked. “Can’t say that happens to me all that often.”
“No, I’m not. I promise. I was actually laughing at myself. It’s just that my daughter is always telling me that I can find the good in anything, including a cardboard box. This might be exactly the kind of thing she’s talking about.”
“A daughter, huh? I didn’t realize. How old is she?”
"She's ten, going on a hundred,” Jess said, smiling. “She's sort of a smart-ass, which is one of the reasons I adore her."
“I bet.” I smiled along with her, trying to figure out how I had so badly misread this situation. “Doesn’t seem like the worst quality a daughter could have. Does she get it from you or from your husband?”
“I don’t know. A little bit of column A, a little bit of column B, I guess.”
“And what does he do?” I asked. “Your husband, I mean.”
“He doesn’t.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“I’m sorry, why would you? That was a cryptic answer if ever there was one. He was an architect. That’s what he did. He passed away, though.”
“Shit,” I said. “Jess, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been prying. I’m sorry to bring up painful things.”
"Please, don't feel bad,” she said. “I don't. I loved him very much, but he passed away a little more than five years ago. I still miss him sometimes, but I've made my peace with it. Cancer is a really ugly thing, and he's better off now. I know that's the kind of thing people always say, which makes it mean a lot less, but I believe it."
There was silence between us then, and one that I was grateful for. I wasn't sure if I had started this conversation off with the intention of flirting, but if that had been the case, I had failed. Far from keeping things light-hearted and showing jus
t enough interest in her to make her feel okay with jumping into my bed, I had taken things to a place I'd never meant to go.
It left me feeling unsure of where I was supposed to steer the conversation next. When I thought about it later, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to dig myself out of the hole. I couldn't ever be sure because I never had to give it a try. A beeping on one of the monitors caught my attention, and when I squinted at the night sky surrounding us, my face broke into a frown.
“Where the fuck is Stevens, anyway?” I asked.
"I'm sorry, I don't know,” Jess said. “He does this sometimes. He'll just disappear into the bathroom for a while. Why what's wrong?"
"Nothing's really wrong, Jess. Everything is going to be okay, but I would suggest strapping in though, all the same. We're flying directly into a storm, and we're going to be hitting some major turbulence any minute now. We're going to have to divert the flight path some, too, but it's going to be okay."
I got on the radio to make a similar, if less informative, announcement to the cabin at large. I kept an eye on Jess as I did so and couldn't help but be surprised, impressed, even. Although flight attendants were supposed to be able to handle things like this, doing so, in reality, was a hell of a lot different from doing so in a simulation.
I had seen plenty of girls fall apart under circumstances such as these, and I fully expected that kind of reaction out of Jess. Instead, she remained calm and silent, doing as I had told her and nothing more. When she noticed me looking at her, she smiled, just as calmly as she would have done passing somebody in the hallway.
“You good?” she asked in a soft, even voice. One of her hands reached out and lighted upon my own briefly.
“I’m fantastic. You?”
Yours Forever: A Holiday Romance Page 102
