h, man, am I glad to be home.
Another smooth landing. Julien offers me his congratulations on an uneventful series of flights.
“Let’s not do that again,” I joke.
“Uneventful flights?”
“No, the bit about the series. I’ll do return flights for a while. No need for the world tours,” I remark. “You did good, Julien. Hope I’ll work with you again.”
“You’re the captain,” he says, cracking a grin. “I think you’re in charge of your own roster, anyway.”
“Sure am,” I wink, lifting my pilot’s cap off my head. I exit the cockpit and nod to everyone in the cabin: our big-shot client, his entourage, Serena and other attendants.
We’re the only flight scheduled for the private jet terminal today, so we have a prime landing spot. There are two cars waiting on the runway. “Didn’t know he needs two cars for a tiny entourage of three,” I mention to Serena.
“Actually…” she says, her voice trailing off.
“Yes, Serena?”
“Jag, the second car’s for you. It’s business. I’m supposed to take you to the car.”
It’s not like Serena to be all cloak-and-dagger, making it sound like I’m in trouble with the government or something. I let everyone deplane before Serena and I begin to climb down the steps to the runway. I salute the bag boys, letting Serena walk ahead of me towards the silver Cadillac waiting.
Silver, at least, not black. I’m not in trouble with the government.
The windows are tinted, so I can’t make out who’s inside until Serena opens the door for me.
Then I see Miss Karina.
I have a ton of more important engagements than having to deal with this woman who’s gone out of her way to ruin my reputation.
Hell, Alexa didn’t answer when I called her after landing the plane. Twice! I’d rather call her back, than deal with Miss Karina.
The socialite gestures for me to get in the car.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere,” she says. “I just want to discuss a business opportunity with you.”
I glance back at Serena, but she’s already walking to the airport terminal building. As reluctant as I am to give Karina the time of day, I slip into the car.
“Alright, I’ll hear you out,” I say, sounding guarded.
“I’d like you to pilot for me again.”
“That seems obvious,” I smile. “The thing is, why would you want that when you can have someone like Will? He’s good enough for the job, and he’ll even bang you in the back. In-flight entertainment, right there.”
To her credit, she doesn’t make a face at my remarks. “I want the best, and you’re the best. This isn’t your average flight. I hear you just got back from a long tour. How many flights was that?”
“Six or seven,” I say, shrugging.
“I want a twelve-stop world tour. Five continents. A hundred and twenty people. I’ve got the jet for this, it’s for a band I’m sponsoring. They’re doing their first tour,” she explains. “I’ll give you a signing bonus. Three hundred grand, on top of your normal per-flight rates.”
“That’s way more money than any pilot should be getting paid,” I say, eyeing her carefully.
“Maybe this financial agreement we can make might help to facilitate some,” she looked me in the eye, “Some extra duties, aboard and abroad,” Miss Karina hints.
“What sort of extra duties? Because I’m not smuggling drugs for you, I know how rock stars get,” I say.
“Not that kind! Jesus, Jagger. I mean the kind you declined the last time. Personal service for me.”
“Fuck’s sake,” I bring a hand to my face, massaging my temple. “You want to pay me three hundred thousand dollars so I can fuck you? What the hell?”
“Not just me, not necessarily,” she points out. “Perhaps other women too. Exotic beauties we’ll meet on every stop. Long nights of passion, in the plane. An absolute orgy of excitement. Surely you’re interested in that, Jagger? The payment is for your discretion, and for you to feel less… uptight.”
I keep massaging my face, feeling a migraine coming along. “And you’ll only table this offer to me?”
“If I had another pilot whose cock I want inside me as much as yours, I would have gone to them instead,” Miss Karina says. “It also goes without saying that I do not want any more drama aboard the plane like the last time. No absurd tricks to shave time off, by flying straight into a storm.”
“Time is money,” I shrug.
“Three hundred grand is money. Think about it.”
“I’ve already thought about it. You can hear my answer when you get your driver to roll us up to the terminal,” I tell her, and the car starts moving. When it comes to a halt outside the door, I say, “I’ve thought about it. Answer is no.”
“You’re making a huge mistake,” the socialite says, shaking her head. “What a shame. Now I’ll have to spend a month flying with no entertainment on board.”
“Start doing the crossword,” I shrug, reaching for the door. I leave her with a nice smile. “Been nice talking. The answer’s still no.”
Serena’s sitting alone with her bags, as I walk to the corporate office. “You waiting on me?” I ask her as I pass.
“Waiting for a friend to pick me up,” she says, sounding tired. “But I won’t turn down having you pick me up instead, actually.”
I laugh. “Now, you see… I’m really drained when it comes to turning down hot women’s attempts to climb aboard my dick today. Sorry, doll, but no way, no how. Were you in on the job too?”
“With Miss Karina? No. She only asked me for our flight itinerary, and told me to take you to her car when we landed,” Serena says. She’s sounding a little defensive, like she knows I might get upset with her if she said yes.
“Want to hear a crazy story? You’ll love it. That is, if your friend isn’t going to have to wait a long while for you. Knowing you and your irrepressible urge to have sex with someone as soon as you land somewhere, after all, Serena…”
“Wrong type of friend. College roommate. A girl. And yes, while I’m interested in girls, I’m not interested in Connie.”
“How about Miss Karina?”
Serena shrugs. “She’s not unsexy,” she says. “Well, what’s the story?”
I keep telling women stories these days. Goddamn. I immediately recap for Serena the job offer I received, down to every detail, including the promise of orgies in the air, and my giant pay-off.
“That’s insane,” she laughs. “And you said no?”
“There’s that old adage about never fucking crazy…”
Serena raises an eyebrow. “Or you could just be upfront and tell her you’re in a relationship.”
“Not in a relationship,” I shake my head. “It’s complicated.”
“If that’s the case, who’s being the idiot? Her or you?”
The pointed remark has me questioning the situation. “Well, shit, that’s a goddamn good question.”
“Must be you, then,” Serena says. She stands up as her phone starts to ring. I let her quickly take the call. When she’s done, she nods at me. “Got to run. So if this is about you and your girl… stop being an idiot, Jag. Go after her. You’ve never been like this for anyone before. Don’t let it slip past you. Even I’ve been in that position before. Are you going to let yourself be eaten up with regrets?”
I’m having trouble getting through to Alexa. I called her again, but she still hasn’t picked up. No messages from her, either, but we don’t really talk like that.
A little discouraging, to not be able to connect with her. It’s not like I’m desperate to talk to her, but we did solidify a plan to meet now that I’m back. For her to avoid my calls makes me feel like she’s trying her hardest to not see me.
Worse, I realize there’s almost nothing I know about her. I don’t know where she lives, or even which part of town that is. I’ve always taken her disinterest in telling me anything about her home life as being part and parcel of the independent streak in her she clearly cares about.
I have no way to get in touch with her if she’s avoiding my calls, and at first, my thought is to just sit back and let her come to me instead. But that sounds like a poor compromise. Especially as a suspicion awakes in the back of my head. What if she is trying to wind this down. What if it’s the slow fade?
How could I find her anyway?
I don’t know anything about her work — I’ve always just assumed she doesn’t need to work, coming from money. It doesn’t matter to me if she works or not, but it would be a help if I knew something about her.
And friends? Well, I know she had that one friend who was at the party with Miss Karina, but I don’t know her name.
Wait. The party.
Tracking back to our first night together, I vaguely recall offering to get her a car. She said no, but she must have found her way home some other way.
So I go to the hotel, and head straight for reception. A pretty brunette receptionist beams at me. Maybe a little more than the professional greeting. Or maybe she’s just very keen.
“Ah, Mr. Long, so good to see you again,” she says. “I didn’t see a reservation with your name. Is this a walk-in stay?”
“Not really,” I shake my head, glancing at the receptionist’s name tag to get her name. “Hey, Marie, can you help me out? Were you working the night I had a room comped for Karina Hildebrand’s club opening party? This might be a stretch, but I was wondering if you could help me out with some information.”
“I wasn’t on the staff that night, but of course, Mr. Long, I’m more than happy to help you with whatever you need,” Marie smiles helpfully.
“I met a friend that night. Woman by the name of Alexa. She, uh, didn’t stay the night with me, so I’m assuming she went down to the lobby and asked reception to call her a cab. Do you think you could check to see if anyone matching that name called one?”
“That’s not information we’re allowed to give out.”
My brow tenses but Marie gives me a sly smile, “I’m sure it’ll be okay, though.” She leans forward and lowers her voice. “Can you remember what time this would have been around?” Marie asks, pushing her glasses up to the bridge of her nose as she consults with her computer.
“Maybe two or three in the morning?”
“Let’s see. Yes. I’ve found a cab for an Alexa to 1621 Sixth Avenue,” she says. “I don’t have anything else. I hope that’s helpful enough!”
I nod to her. “Sure is. Thanks a lot, Marie. That’s really great. 1621 Sixth Avenue, was it?”
“That’s right. Would you like me to call you a cab to that destination?”
“Perfect,” I smile. As she reaches for the phone, I dig into my pockets and find her a tip.
She smiles at the bill. “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Long.”
“You were very helpful.”
My cab arrives promptly and I tell him exactly where I want to go. About ten minutes later, I’m pulling up in front of a beautiful building with French windows and ornate little balconies. Yeah, this is exactly the sort of place I’d associate with Alexa.
Sophisticated.
I walk up to the lobby, looking around for a doorman. He emerges from another room. “Yes, sir, can I help you?”
“Could you notify Alexa that she’s got a visitor, please?”
“Oh! Alexa no longer lives here, I’m afraid,” the doorman says, giving me a sympathetic look.
I look up the stairs. There’s the sound of a door closing. It feels a little like my heart.
“What, really?”
“This took place just over the last few days,” the doorman says. “I’m very sorry for your trouble.”
“Damn. Okay, wait. Do you have any information about where she went? Or her workplace? I need to get in touch with her but she’s not picking up my calls. It’s urgent.”
The doorman looks at me, clearly trying to assess whether I’m worth helping. “There might be a forwarding address but I’m afraid that’s not something I should share.”
“Would you share it for this?” I ask, pulling out a hundred dollar bill.
He’s a lot more accommodating now. “Of course, sir,” he says, turning away from me to retrieve some mail. “These arrived for her today. Perhaps you can also save me the trouble of having to have these forwarded to her. Personal courier, no?”
“Sure, sure,” I tell him. “And the address?”
“I have it right here,” he says. It’s written down on a small Post-it note. The handwriting is clearly a woman’s. Alexa’s, I’m sure.
We make our exchange: a hundred dollars for her address.
As I begin to turn away, I see a pretty woman with dyed platinum blonde hair, walk past me. Something’s familiar about her. I try to figure out if we’ve somehow slept together before.
No, it’s not that.
She turns around and meets my gaze, but I look away. She has an interested look, but I’m not interested in her — just who she is.
It’s only after she exits the building that I realize what it was I recognize.
That dress. That’s Alexa’s dress.
What the hell is going on here?
If I have to keep shelling out huge tips like this, I’m going to have to take Miss Karina up on her Goddamned job offer.
Luckily, I don’t have to do that. It’s not so hard to hail a cab to take me to the forwarding address. I’m armed with Alexa’s mail, but as nosy as I might be right now, I’m not about to rummage through her correspondence.
Not that it looks like anything serious, anyway.
The driver taps on his meter when we reach the place. It’s a definite step down from the building on Sixth Avenue. The cab stops me in front of a tall, nondescript apartment complex. The street feels narrow and cars are double-parked on both sides.
I pay the guy and get out of the cab. A glance to the handwritten address I have tells me the apartment number I need to go to. There’s an elevator, and no doorman, so I just walk right through.
When I get to the twelfth floor, I scan for apartment number five, and find it at the far end of the hallway.
There’s a buzzer, and I smooth my clothes down, ready to see Alexa. I’m assuming she’s home. I can hear some music coming from inside.
“Yes?” the door swings open just slightly. It’s not Alexa. It’s someone I don’t quite recognize. But she’s familiar. A quick check to her dress tells me that at least she’s not wearing Alexa’s clothes.
“Oh, sorry,” I say. “Does Alexa live here?”
“Not live,” the woman says. “Well, she’s staying for a few days. Until she finds her own place.” She opens the door all the way and smiles as she looks me up and down. “You’re… Jagger, aren’t you?”
Her knowing my name instantly makes me realize who she is. This is Alexa’s friend. The one who went to the party with her. I don’t think I know her name. “Jagger, that’s right.”
“I’m Sonya. I’m surprised to see you here. How the hell did you get my address?”
“Long story,” I answer.
“Okay,” she says, warily. “Alexa’s not here. She’s out, actually.”
There’s an awkward moment here. Sonya clearly is protective of her friend, and it’s not like I can buy information from her with a tip.
I’m at a loss for words, and I can feel Sonya’s starting to get impatient. “Can you give this to Alexa? It’s my hotel key. The room number’s on the keycard.”
Sonya looks a little hesitant. Has something happened with Alexa? “I’m a little uncomfortable about all this. I mean, she’s crazy for you, but is this really the best way for you to do things?”
“Hey, I care about her. And I’m concerned. It’s not like her to not pick my calls up. Multiple calls,” I note.
She looks at me a long time. Then her eyes narrow. “Don’t you dare hurt her, okay? She deserves some happiness.”
I listen and I nod.
“I don’t ever plan on doing that. Will you give her the key, and tell her I came looking for her, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”
“I’ll see. No promises. And, if you don’t hear from her, don’t come back. Got that?”