by Nova Rain
“Fine. I can’t stand seeing you with her,” I humored him, my voice riddled with frustration. “Are you happy now?”
“No, you silly little girl,” he rebutted as I felt his hands on my hips. In a quick move, he pulled me closer. “I’ve been thinking about the single thing that would make me happy since our talk on that pier, and it’s not dating Dani. It’s you. I used her to make you jealous. Guess what. It worked.”
“You…?” A whisper of disbelief escaped me, the moment those words flew out of his mouth. “There’s no new girlfriend?”
“No,” he affirmed, his lips curling into a wicked smile. Leaning in, his beard stubble brushed against my chin. Michael’s warm mouth caressed mine for a fleeting moment. I raised my hands and cupped his face, his grip around me tightening. I felt that warmth spreading into me, offering me a sensation I needed more than anything. It was like a frozen gel was being applied to my sores, and my God, were those many… My soul was swimming in an abyss of sorrow and self-doubt. Out of the blue, he had thrown a lifeline, and was pulling me ashore. What I would find on the shores of his heart was a mystery. He might have dropped me a few hints, but his world was still veiled by thick layers of fog. This time however, I wasn’t going to reject the challenge of exploring it. It was a far more appealing option than wallowing in self-pity. A cloud of vapor shot out of his mouth as he ended our kiss and eased back.
“So, jealousy?” I whispered, our eyes meeting again in the dark.
“Yep. It worked like a charm,” he teased, his smile reappearing. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”
I returned his smile, his fingers curling around my wrist. I had lost count of the times I’d gone in and out of that restaurant that night. Still, there was a huge difference when I walked back in. I wasn’t feeling that burden on my shoulders anymore. The agony in my chest had subsided. Maybe it would come back, but, for the moment at least, it was dormant. Penny was enjoying a glass of red wine, a large pizza waiting for her on the table.
“Damn it…” She snorted, the beverage shooting out of her nostrils. “You could have warned me about this.”
“And say what exactly?” I giggled, sitting down across from her. “I worked things out with Michael and we’re coming over?”
“Eh, what the hell…” she chuckled, picking up her cell phone. “This is great news. Let me get a picture of you two. Say ‘chess.’”
I posed for the camera beside him, in the hope that I wouldn’t regret my decision. Michael seemed worthy of my attention, but there was a lot of work to be done if I wanted to make this relationship work. Nevertheless, I was going to try my best. Why? Because, other than his great looks, his tenacity had won me over. Most men in his shoes would have given up. He didn’t. He insisted, and while I didn’t love his plan per se, it was clear proof of his deep interest in me.
Chapter Eight
Michael
I was looking forward to spending the night with Ava. I had been pursuing this for a while and thought it would now become reality.
Nope. Not this time.
In a matter of minutes, I thought I was in a chicken coop. The two friends were drinking to their heart’s content and cackling. I was enjoying myself because their stories were funny, but as time went by, it became clear to me that Ava would be too drunk to even drive, let alone have sex with me. Every now and then, I would gaze at her reddened eyes and her happy expression, understanding that my expectations were dashed. Despite my disappointment, seeing her like that was some sort of compensation. I had been sick and tired of the misery that had been written all over her face. Clinging to her past, she’d had the same sullenness in her eyes. It had taken plenty of jokes to get her to just smile up in Canada. The woman next to me now was laid back, cheerful, and laughed her heart out. Alcohol had worked a miracle on her, a miracle I had been unable to perform.
The following day, Jake and I flew out to Alaska. It was easily one of our most arduous flights, where things could go wrong at any minute. The area around Homer Airport had always been subject to blizzards, even during the summer. Thankfully, there was just a mild snowfall that day. After almost eight hours in the air, the Beluga landed on a somewhat slippery, yet snow-free runway. With the engine noise subsiding, we received a radio transmission.
“Captain Williams, First Officer Smith, my name is David Baxter. I’m the company’s chief flight instructor. I’d like to see you in my office. It’s on the first floor of the building, second door on your right.”
Building? If that wasn’t an overstatement, I didn’t know what was. That tiny terminal had to have been sixty or seventy years old. Battered by strong winds, blizzards, and heavy rainfall, it showed its age. Chunks of concrete had been ripped off, exposing the iron beams of its framework. Moisture had painted most of it a brownish shade. Furthermore, it couldn’t fit more than thirty people. This was a typical example of the airports Jake and I currently frequented; in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles from the nearest city, not suitable for commercial flights. The only people in that terminal were airline representatives and loading staff.
Walking through that joke of a building was like being in an old basement without any wet proofing. The stench of mustiness was strong in the air, making my stomach churn. Water had pooled in the corner furthest from the entrance, and a lady in a blue uniform was using a mop to wipe it off. Jake and I had to watch our step on the stairs because there were quite a few large drops of water there as well.
Finding myself on the top landing, I caught a strange sound. It was an old tune from the king of soul music. James Brown’s “I Feel Good” was bouncing off the walls of the entire floor, piquing my curiosity.
I stopped outside Baxter’s office and peeked in. He was tall, maybe an inch or two shorter than me. Had I not completed such a long flight, I would have laughed at the show he was putting on. Dressed in black pants and a white shirt, he had wrapped his blue tie around his wrist and was swinging it in the air. All the same, I was tired, filthy and in dire need of a shower and a good night’s sleep.
“Hey!” I barked out, slamming my fist against the open door. “Is this why you wanted to see us? Because you needed an audience?”
“Gentlemen! Hi!” He cheered, pressing the “spacebar” button on his computer. “I should have let you know this was a celebration. Better late than never I guess.”
“A celebration?” Jake raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” David said with a nod. “I’m finally leaving this godforsaken wasteland. I got transferred to New York.”
“Congrats,” I spoke, sauntering towards him. “Just answer me this. Where do we fit in?”
“Have a seat,” he requested, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. I threw a swift glance over at Jake and obliged him. “First, let me say I never thought I’d be in the same room with the heroes of flight one-fifteen. You guys did an incredible job in New Orleans. Only an airman knows how tough that stunt you pulled was.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jake was quick to respond.
“Let’s cut the crap, shall we?” David suggested, setting his hands on the desk. “You may have altered your names and your looks, but did you really think a beard would be enough to conceal your identity? Come on, Captain Turner. We are pilots. We are trained to observe our situations and surroundings.”
“Who else knows about this, Baxter?” I asked, clenching my jaw.
“So far, it’s just me,” he declared, turning his attention to me. “HR gave me a list of pilots who have been flying the Beluga, our most treasured asset. They want me to train more, because they’re thinking of purchasing more aircraft of that type. You were unlucky. I’m not so good at remembering faces, but I happened to be studying your landing at the time. I recognized you both in a heartbeat.”
“And now you’re going to tell ‘Swift Cargo’ who we really are,” I presumed, clenching my fists.
“Oh, hell no!” He shouted, shaking his head in denial. “Are you cr
azy? You two are my heroes. You did the impossible. I mean, landing a giant like a triple seven outside of an airport? Without any casualties? Wow. Just wow…”
“I’d appreciate it if you kept this information to yourself,” Jake interjected. “I know this will sound weird to you, but United was pissed at me for managing to save the aircraft and the people onboard. That case cost them a lot of money. They wanted to sue me for property damage. General Electric wanted to press charges against me, too. I made the mistake of blaming their engines in public.”
“You didn’t need to remind me, Turner,” Baxter said, his voice slower. “I remember your gal’s outburst at your funeral. Still, there’s something that doesn’t make sense. If United and General Electric were so hell-bent on suing someone, why didn’t they go after Compton?”
“Good question,” I praised. “After Jake’s funeral, I spread a rumor about me moving to Argentina. My guess is they bought it. It’s either that, or they realized that having me prosecuted wasn’t the way to go. I didn’t land that triple seven. Jake did. All I did was huddle in my seat and pray out loud.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Jake urged with a small smile. “He doesn’t give himself enough credit. He was the one who located that levee we landed on.”
“Gentlemen, I’d love for you to talk me through that landing someday, but you have more pressing matters to concern yourselves with,” Baxter remarked, moving around his desk. “I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before your cover is blown.”
“What are you suggesting?” I asked, clueless as to the point he was trying to make.
“Well, you could leave the US and work as pilots in a country with no extradition.” His entire phrase had to be one of the most ridiculous I’d heard in my time as a pilot.
“Right.” I giggled. “Here’s a thought. Why don’t we head over to Vietnam? I hear Vietnamese airlines are modernizing their fleets with C-130’s. I’m sure flying those heavy old beasts will pay well.”
“Thanks, but that’s not an option, Baxter.” Jake assumed a more serious tone than mine. “Our whole lives are here.”
“I’ll see you in New York, Shabba Doo,” I teased, getting up. “Take care.”
“You can always consider becoming flight instructors.” Baxter’s last comment did sound intriguing. “I’m sure the company would appreciate having two pilots with your background and experience teaching others how to fly.”
“Thanks again.” Jake nodded in appreciation. “Now, if you will excuse us. It’s been a long, hard day.”
Upon our return to the hallway, my first thought was discussing this with Jake. The job of a flight instructor appealed to me. It meant that I would no longer have to visit those dreadful airports or fly a gigantic airplane with no passengers in it. However, the drowsiness in my eyes and my heavy head prevented me from speaking up. This was no time for a conversation, let alone a serious one about our professional future.
Chapter Nine
Ava
“We need an editorial.”
Walter’s statement had both me and Penny scratching our heads. We were well aware of the fact that we needed an extensive report on something; yet, neither of us could figure out what that could be.
“Well, I covered invasive species in Florida, so that’s off the table.” Penny spoke in a confident tone.
“DC, ladies,” Walter spoke his mind. “There’s a huge number of museums and monuments in the capital. We could do a piece on them.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I disagreed, pursing my lips. “You’re right. Our nation’s capital is riddled with museums, but most—if not all—are irrelevant to one another. There’s the National Air and Space Museum, the Holocaust Museum, the National Museum of Natural History…” I paused. “Plus, other papers have covered those in the past. We need something…”
“Unique,” Penny finished my sentence. “How about Lake Huron? It’s beautiful, it’s massive, and in my book at least, one of the most underrated places in North America. It’s also very close.” At the end of her phrase, she flashed me a devilish smile.
“Oh please…” Walter cringed. “The press is inundated with pictures of beavers swimming in the water. I don’t know why people think those goddamn rodents are so cute. They look like big rats to me.”
“Excuse me, but are pythons really cuter?” I posed the question, a hint of anger in my tone. I was expecting some sort of response from my editor. All I got though, was a light shake of his head. “Thank you. I like Penny’s idea. Lake Huron is enormous. A big part of it protrudes into Michigan, whereas a smaller part protrudes into Canada. There have to be tons of things I can write about it. I can cover its wildlife, its people, their habits… And if you hate beavers so much, I promise I won’t take any pictures of them.”
Walter exhaled and shoved his hands into his pockets. “All right. Our editorials are typically between four and-a-half and five thousand words. How long do you need to write it?”
“Let’s see,” I murmured, tapping my pen on my chin as I tipped my head back. “Five days. Two to visit towns and villages and interview locals, one more to take some landscape photos and another two days to put the pieces together and type it.”
“Good.” Walter nodded in approval. “I’ll have accounting make all the necessary arrangements.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I assured him, struggling to keep myself from smiling. “I have a few contacts on the Canadian side of the lake. They’ll take care of those.”
“They’d better not be too expensive,” he warned, an expression of strictness dominating his face.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to keep costs down,” I promised. “I will let you know about my departure date and time.”
“Dismissed.” Walter nodded once more, wearing the same expression. But I wasn’t going to let that minor detail spoil my mood. My editor’s attitude towards expenses had been known to everyone at the Brooklyn Bulletin anyway. I was going back to the place that had captured my heart. As I strode back to my office however, it dawned on me that I had messed up. I had no idea about what Michael’s schedule contained. For all I knew, he could be thousands of miles away from Ontario in the days to come.
“You don’t look so happy for a girl who’s about to fly out to Canada with her boyfriend,” Penny commented. “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t check with him,” I explained, halting outside my office. “I’d hate to spend five days up there all by myself.”
“Well, luckily, I did,” she claimed with a grin. “They’re flying back to Ontario tomorrow night.”
“Thank God,” I sighed in relief. “What would I do without you?”
“Thank me.” She pointed to herself. “You’d be miserable, mon ami.” She attempted a—bad—French accent. “It’s too bad I can’t come with.”
“Okay, thank you. And I’m sure you’ll get your chance.” I smiled at her, before walking back into my office. I brought my gaze up to that spot on the map, images from my last visit to the lake flooding my mind. The moonlight on the lake’s surface. Calm waters stretching out as far as the eye can see. A light breeze caressing my skin. Most of all, Michael would be there with me. I had already enjoyed his company as his friend. Now, I couldn’t wait to enjoy his company as his girlfriend.
Chapter Ten
Ava
“I know you’re excited, but don’t break the news to him over the phone. Telling him in person is better.”
I was skeptical about Penny’s advice. Michael was a pilot. He had to know about any passengers on board prior to a flight. Disclosing this to him at the last minute could get in the way of his work. Nonetheless, there was a simple truth that existed, one that I had to take into account.
She knew him better than I did.
Dating his best friend had provided Penny with insight I didn’t have. Penny and Jake had spent dozens of nights out in bars and restaurants with Michael. By then, she had learned things about him that I hadn’t
. This information had come in handy once. There was no doubt in my mind that it would come in handy again.
With my heart bursting with anticipation, I welcomed her into my apartment on the afternoon of our men’s return to the Big Apple. Our men… It sounded strange. Penny had fallen for the same man she had been accusing of trying to kill her, along with three hundred people on a flight to Miami. There was pure love between those two. I wasn’t in love with Michael yet, but what I had seen from him so far was very encouraging.
A few minutes after five, she and I left my apartment. We had decided to pick up Michael and Jake from Kingston-Ulster airport. But, when I clicked the entry door shut behind me, the view of my friend standing still on the curb sent waves of confusion washing over me. With her side to me, she was staring at something to her left. Three footsteps later, came a revelation I had been dreading. Penny wasn’t staring at some random object. Her eyes were glued to a man I knew like the back of my hand. At 6’1”, with long, brown hair that reached down to his shoulders and a pair of light-green eyes that mesmerized me once, stood Curtis Ryerson.
“You have some nerve showing your face here,” Penny growled, tossing a fierce glare up at him. “You and Ava are over. You might as well suck it up.”
“I’ll handle this, Penny.” I spoke to her in a calm tone, pushing her gently aside. “What do you want, Curtis?”
“Hey, Ava.” He assumed a tender voice and tipped his head down. “How have you been?”
“Fine.” I gave him a cold look. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“What else would I be doing here? I want you back.” His confession was another blow to my already battered ego. I didn’t know what he was trying to accomplish with these statements, but to me, this wasn’t sweet. It was a clear underestimation of my intelligence.