icture messages are waiting on my phone when I make it to the airport bar. As I sit, I open them. One picture at a time, the story unfolding in Brooklyn is clearly revealed to me. I’m pleased.
Not only has Stinson Remodeling done a fantastic job at restoring the downstairs hall and setting up a private suite on the second floor, but their work is professional and timely. I demand strict time constraints, and time and time again they’ve risen to the occasion.
Today’s venture is the porch. According to the time stamp on the picture message I received, the construction ended an hour before Alexa is due home from work. Even with cleanup, the crew will be out with plenty of time to spare.
I know that she will see the difference and marvel at it, but I don’t want her to be disturbed in the tiniest little bit. All construction work has to take place while she is away. Everything must be perfect for her. If she can’t have the Manhattan condo, she will lead a fairytale life here.
And what’s a fairytale without a little magic?
The bartender recognizes me. He slides a whiskey on the rocks across the bartop to me. It’s not my first time in Fiji, and I’m used to making an impression wherever I go. I sip at my drink as I consider what to do next.
There are other matters of business to tend to now that the porch is out of the way. My work isn’t done, and it won’t be until the house is in a condition befitting of Alexa.
I place a quick call, my whiskey cradled in the palm of my hand. The house is one worry, but the yard? The yard is a thorn in my side, figuratively and literally.
“Green Touch Landscaping,” a young receptionist answers. “Heidi speaking. How can I help you?”
Next day I leave for French Polynesia. While I head for the cockpit, I’m texting my personal shopper. While Alexa is at work today, I want to make sure there is fresh food stocked in the fridge and new clothes delivered directly to her closet. The fantasy cannot die. I want her to feel that she is looked after and cared for even when I’m away. A dozen red roses aren’t enough. A new wardrobe might be.
A flash of bright red stops me in my tracks, and I lift my eyes from the screen of my phone to behold a sight I wish I could unsee. Miss Karina is at the very top of the stairs leading to the door of my jet. She poses against the entryway like a model at a photo shoot. The red dress she wears shows off her long legs and she tries to tempt me with her creamy thighs, but I won’t fall victim to her.
I never will.
“Captain Long,” she coos from her elevated position. I’m on the ground beneath her. “I was starting to get nervous you’d found a girl in Fiji to run away with.”
“I don’t abandon what I start,” I tell her firmly. I mean more than just the flight. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the US.”
“It’s amazing what trouble you can get up to when you own a private airline,” she tells me airily. She takes a step down from the door, effectively blocking my passage to the jet. “I had myself flown over to join you. I thought it might be a fun adventure. French Polynesia is stunning, don’t you think?”
“It’s not to my taste.” Even if it was, I wouldn’t tell her. Doesn’t she realize she can’t gain my favor?
“Mm, I think it might be if you saw me in French Polynesia,” she purrs. “On one of the black sand beaches, in my white bikini, my hair tumbling down my back… don’t you think you’d like that, Jagger? You could rub lotion on my back, and undo the string of my bikini, tell me to roll over for you…”
Karina is one of the sexiest women alive. Her socialite status means she makes money simply for being herself. That same money has bought her the best looks plastic surgeons can provide. But every time I look at her, I realize that it’s not her beauty I see, but her flaws.
Her breasts are large and perky, but Alexa’s fit so comfortably in my hands that I can’t imagine Miss Karina’s would bring me any joy. The bombshell curve of her hips is captivating, but it’s so dramatic it almost looks comical. Alexa’s subtle curves draw my eye and keep me enraptured. The low cut, designer dresses Karina wears are gorgeous, but when I look at them, I think of Alexa wrapped in my dress shirt and how glamorous she was without even trying.
Miss Karina falls short and she always will.
It’s the first time in my life that I’m faithful to one woman, but I never abandon what I start.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you, Long?” Miss Karina asks with a wolfish grin. She takes another step down. “We can arrange to have that happen, you know. I have a luxury suite waiting for us in Pape’ete. I’ll reserve a private beach. You, in a speedo and nothing else, and me sunning with my top off? What do you say?”
“I say you’re out of your mind if you think I’ll agree to something like that,” I say as I climb the stairs and brush past her. I catch her sour expression from the corner of my eye. “Dangle money, glamor, fame, or whatever else it is you can drag up from your corrupt little social sphere, but I’ll never want it. I’ve told you this several times and I do not like to repeat myself.”
If she wasn’t my employer, I wouldn’t be so nice. I get it, I’m irresistible. But what I say goes, and it irks me that Miss Karina doesn’t get that.
“You’re playing hard to get, Long.”
Miss Karina has brought additional staff to cater to her every whim. When we land, I meet them for the first time. Chrissy and Erin are new to Executive Privilege, but I can tell from the way they eat me up with their eyes that Miss Karina already has them indoctrinated.
We deplane together, and when we do, Erin sidles up to me and bats her long, dark eyelashes. She has a pretty face and a great ass, and the tiny Executive Privilege dress she wears as her uniform hugs it and threatens to ride up lewdly.
“Hello, Captain,” she says. Her voice is sultry for a woman’s, spun like honeyed whiskey. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard such fantastic things about the world class pilot, Captain Long, but I didn’t believe them until I experienced them myself. That was the smoothest flight I’ve ever been on. I didn’t even feel it when we hit the ground.”
It’s not often a woman tries to find her way beneath my sheets by complimenting my flying, but I’m not fazed by it. All women do is throw themselves at me. The flavor is new, but the meal is familiar. I don’t fall for it.
“Thanks.” I continue on my way, dead set on making it inside the airport and finding a seat at the bar. I have to get in touch with my personal shopper to see how today went. What’s more, I’m expecting an update from Stinson Remodeling and Green Touch Landscaping both.
“Excuse me,” a bubblier voice says sweetly from just behind my shoulder. It belongs to Chrissy. She’s got big baby blues that could stop a man in his tracks and a lower lip that constantly pouts. Where Erin is hot, sultry seduction, Chrissy is sweet innocence incarnate. “Are you really Captain Long?”
“I am,” I answer curtly. They walk with me across the tarmac.
“You’re such a good pilot,” Chrissy drags the words out slowly. “When I heard about the work you did, and how accomplished you were, I thought for sure you’d be an older man. But look at you. I can believe someone so talented is also so hot. How is that even fair?”
“It isn’t. I’m the envy of the airline. Just ask Miss Karina.” I have a feeling they’ve already asked Miss Karina all about me already. In fact, I’m pretty sure Miss Karina has told them. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she sent them to wear down my defenses so she can come in for the kill.
Erin laughs. It has to be fake, but if it is, she’s mastered it to the point that I can’t find the tell. The sound alive and bubbles with promise. The French Polynesian sun beats down on our shoulders. I roll my travel bag a little faster.
“We’re not very interested in Miss Karina,” Erin admits. She meets my pace, the sharp click of her heels matching each of my steps. “We’re interested in you, Captain. How is it that a man such as yourself shoots a woman like Miss Karina down? She’s the hottest of the hot. Every woman alive wants to be her.”
Not every woman. I know of one who couldn’t care less about who Karina is or what she does.
“And I’m pretty sure that every woman wants you,” Chrissy admits in a sweet voice. “I mean, the ones who cross paths with you, at least. I know that if you looked my way, Captain Long, I’d definitely jump on the chance.”
“So why don’t you sleep with her?” Erin asks, building off what Chrissy’s saying. “The whole time we were in the air, she was bitching about how unobtainable you are, and how you’re playing hard to get. Why not give in? She’s the best of the best. If you’re holding out for someone hotter, I’m not sure she exists.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”
“No? Then what is it like?” Chrissy asks, kittenish.
They’re attempting to disarm me. The two of them play back and forth between each other, Chrissy sweet and sincere while Erin asks pointed questions in a dark voice and cuts me to my core. Good cop, bad cop. Except both cops are smoking hot. And neither cop is interested in locking me up. They’re looking to set me free.
Free of my tie. Free of my shirt. Free of my pants.
“I don’t care about how hot she is,” I tell them. We arrive at the gate, and I allow them to enter first. The blast of air conditioning when we step through the doors is a relief. “It doesn’t matter if she’s the hottest woman in the world. I’m not interested.”
“Then who are you interested in?” Erin asks. She’s waiting for me to take the lead again, eager to follow. If I’m being truthful, it feels good to be in direct control of something again. I micromanage as best I can as far as remodeling and renovations in the Brooklyn house go, but from so far away that I’m unable to oversee the progress in real time. It drives me crazy.
But Erin and Lacy are hooked to my every word and eager to give in to me. They follow behind me, looking for leadership. They ask questions and listen to what I have to say. They submit to me.
It scratches an itch deep inside my soul. All of the frustration over having my agency taken away by Karina’s sudden restructuring of Executive Privilege disappears.
When they join me at the bar, I’m not upset.
“I have an agenda all of my own,” I tell them. “I’m not interested in being told what to do, or who I should or shouldn’t like. I’m not interested in Miss Karina for my own reasons.”
“But that means you might be interested in others for your own reasons, too. Right, Captain Long?” Chrissy orders wine. Her baby blues are sparkling. “You follow your own agenda? You do the things you want?”
Wine arrives for Erin and Chrissy both. Erin sits to my left, Chrissy to my right. Erin tilts the wine to her lips, her eyes gleaming with desire.
“I only ever do the things I want,” I tell them. “No one forces my hand.”
“Do you want to drink wine with us, Captain?” Erin asks.
Two gorgeous women, eyes alight with temptation and lust. I know what I have to do.