Capri's Fate

by Devoré, Daryl

  Capri waved her hand at the other devices. "What about all these?"

  "Haven't the foggiest?"

  "Pardon?" She laughed. "You are not instilling confidence in your passenger here."

  "Well then, my telling you that I only got to chapter two in Flying for Dummies is probably not a good thing?" His eyes twinkled with delight.

  A brilliant flash of light interrupted Capri. "Oh my God, did we just get hit?"

  He did a visual scan of the instrument panel. "Don't think so. But no worries. Planes are designed to take lightning strikes."

  She swallowed two mouthfuls of her wine. "I didn't think it would be this dangerous up here. Maybe you were right, and we should've waited."

  "Well, I tried to tell you that."

  "But? You left a but hanging on that sentence."

  "You were being a bit of a corporate bitch, and since I like my balls where they are, I figured I'd get you to where you wanted to go."

  Capri fingered a switch on the mid console.

  "Be careful. You can finger the switches, but if you flick them, you might not get the result you expected."

  She glanced sideways at him.

  "It's best to handle a plane like a beautiful woman. Twist the knobs gently. Move the switches with a gentle flick and when everything is ready, apply a full power thrust."

  "That could apply to more than just flying a plane." Capri raised her glass and was about to take a sip, but looked inside and chuckled, amazed to discover it was empty. "So, Captain T Hall, what does the T stand for?"

  "Tallywacker."

  "Your mother named you—" The jet shuddered and Capri's stomach lurched.

  "Damn." Captain Hall sat up and clicked shut his shoulder harness. "Go back. Put anything away that can fly around. Buckle yourself into your seat."

  Capri didn't move. Her gaze locked on the bulging muscle in Captain Hall's jaw and the line of sweat on his brow.

  "Capri!" He met her gaze with a hard stare. "Do what I asked. Now!"

  The plane jerked again as she stood and made her stumble over the mid console. She dropped her wine glass and it shattered on the edge of the instrument panel.

  "Ow." She glanced at where she'd felt a sharp sting on her calf.

  He twisted his head to the right, checked her leg, and then reached up and pulled down the First Aid kit. "You're bleeding. Here. Now go. And shut the door behind you."

  As she closed the cockpit door, she heard Captain Hall saying, "Flores, this is flight 7643, we've descended two thousand feet—"

  Capri scrambled to the galley and placed the wine bottle in the refrigerator, closed all the doors, and hurried to her seat. After insuring that her purse, cellphone and tablet were stored in the side table, she checked her leg. A small stream of blood trickled down. Removing a bandage and ointment from the medical kit, she cleaned the wound and covered it. She clicked her seat belt, leaned back and swallowed a gasp as the plane dropped for the third time.

  Planes are designed to take abuse like this. It'll be okay. Though he's a bit cocky, he seems like a good pilot.

  "We're going down, Capri. I've found a little runway. Just pray it's long enough."

  Squeezing her eyes and her fists, Capri willed the runway to be the right length. What if this is it? Should I text my parents and tell them I love them? Tears filled her eyes. Her heart pounded as a wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. The putrid taste of bile filled her mouth. I don't want to die.

  Breathing became impossible. Short sharp intakes of air rapidly expelled in puffs was all she was capable of. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. She placed her hand on her chest trying to slow her heart or her panting. Please don't let me die.

  The scream of the engines shifted and the force of the tires hitting the ground threw Capri forward.

  Chapter Ten

  Through the driving rain and moments of occasional blinding flashes of lightning, Thall watched as the plane roared toward the ground. A straight stretch of land was barely visible in the darkness. Tips of treetops flashed underneath the plane's belly. He glanced out the window. Must be nearing a road. Put it down. Gently. Almost there. Brakes! Reverse thrust.

  The force of the landing tossed him against the restraint of his seat belt. The brakes screamed in protest as the tires skidded on the slick surface. Thall's knuckles were white as he gripped the controls. When the plane's speed slowed, he settled back in his seat and released a large sigh.

  He rolled the plane to the edge of the pavement, turned it to face the length of the strip and shut down the engines. Leaning forward, he peered through the front and side windows trying to distinguish the scenery. Okay. This doesn't look like a road. A runway maybe? So I guess we're safe for the moment. Should probably go check on Capri.

  He unclicked his seatbelt, exited the cockpit and stepped through the galley. Capri, her eyes squeezed shut and her face pale, sat in her seat. He fought the urge to wrap his arms around her and offer comfort. "You okay?"

  She opened one eye. "Are we down?"

  "Uh. Yes. If I'm standing here then it's pretty likely we're down."

  "So we're alive?"

  He chuckled. "To the best of my knowledge. And I think I'm a bit insulted that you'd think I'd crash. Haven't lost a plane or a passenger yet. That I know of."

  "What do you mean that you know of?"

  He sat on the couch nearest her. "Just a bit of humor trying to lighten the mood. You know, to relax you, and maybe get you to take those fingernails of yours out of the leather."

  Capri glanced at her hands. "Oh. Sorry." She released her grip and flexed her fingers. "Didn't realize I was holding on so tightly."

  "As captain, I am here to report that we have landed. The plane seems to be secure. No warning lights and we're right side up. I suggest we just sit here and wait for this storm to blow itself out."

  She tried to peer out the rain-splashed window. "Where the hell are we?" Her voice laced with a worried, shrill tone.

  He shrugged. "Don't have a clue. Lost contact with Air Traffic Control."

  She shuddered visibly and rubbed her arms. "I have no intention of playing survivor. Get us out of here."

  "You can be really bossy, but I'm the pilot so let me explain something. This plane is going nowhere for the moment. That was a microburst or wind shear that almost slammed us into the ocean. I got us here. Safely. Feeling kind of proud about that at the moment." He leaned back on the sofa and crossed his ankle over his knee. "I tried to get you where you wanted to go. Against my better judgment. Now, I say we stay."

  Capri released her seatbelt then stood. Her nerves hadn't settled and her stance wasn't stable. She tried to take a step but fell forward. Thall grabbed her and pulled her close. With her face pressed against his chest, he caught a whiff of her perfume. A small flutter danced in his belly. "Guess I'll ask again. Are you okay?"

  She righted herself and dropped her bottom back onto her seat. "Yes. Sorry. Knees are wobbly. Guess I'm a bit more shaken than I thought."

  He tapped the couch next to him. "Come sit here. More comfortable." He held out his hand offering her assistance.

  When she gripped his hand, Thall sensed the fear she was trying to control. He shifted left and let her sit in his spot. "Now put your feet up on the table. And relax." He knelt between the table and couch. "Let me get these shoes off you." Holding one up, he gazed at it. "How do you females walk in these things?"

  "Obviously not well, as I just planted my face on your chest."

  Thall grinned. "You may do so whenever you feel the need." He removed the other shoe and tucked them beside the couch. "Glass of wine? To calm those shattered nerves."

  "Please."

  Thall rustled through the galley looking for glasses and a bottle opener. When he returned to the cabin, he discovered Capri leaning back, with her eyes closed and releasing a large sigh. He waved the glass under her nose.

  Her eyelids fluttered open.

  "Wasn't sure if you'd fainted or passe
d out or something."

  Capri accepted the glass with a smile. "No, just trying to sort things out."

  He sat next to her and placed a small silver tray covered with bags of pretzels and peanuts on the table beside two bottles of wine. He raised his glass. "Any landing you can walk away from is a good one."

  She clinked her glass against his and sipped her wine. "Thank you for getting the plane down safely."

  He tossed a salute at her and propped his feet up on the table. "So what needs sorting out?"

  She raised an eyebrow.

  "You said you were sitting there sorting things. Sorting out what?"

  "We've landed who knows where. There's a horrific storm blowing outside, and I'm going to miss my meeting tomorrow." Her voice raised an octave. "And you want to know what I'm trying to sort out?"

  Swallowing a mouthful of wine, he nodded.

  She grabbed a bag of pretzels, bit the corner with her teeth and ripped it open. A dozen pieces of salty snack flew out of the package. Two landed in Thall's wine. The rest fell on her blouse. Capri leaned her head back and heaved a sigh.

  Thall dug the two out his wine, popped them into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. "Mmm. Interesting. Wine covered pretzels." He picked one off her blouse and popped it into his mouth. "One for me." He picked up another one and held his hand by her lips. "And one for you."

  She glanced sideways at him.

  "Come on. Open up." He waved his hand in small circles. "Open up the plane hangar. The pretty, little jet wants to land. Come on. You can do it."

  Capri separated her lips, and Thall tucked the pretzel into her mouth. She snapped her teeth shut.

  He curled in his fingers and pulled his hand to his chest. "I'll let you clean off the rest of the pretzels. I need all my fingers to fly the plane."

  She swiped her hand down her blouse, collected the pretzels and placed them back onto the tray. "Sorry. I'm just out of sorts. I dislike not being in control of my life."

  "So you decided to fly to Indonesia during cyclone season and try to get to some little island for a meeting, and you call that being in control?"

  "Yes. No." She sipped her wine. "I plan things. Lay my life out before me. So I know where I'm going." She lowered her gaze to her lap as she gulped another mouthful.

  Thall's brow wrinkled. What just went through her head to make her so sad?

  Capri held up her empty glass waiting until Thall refilled it. "Picture this. My time line. Get on plane. Fly to Jakarta. Get on another plane. Fly to Flores. Go to meeting. Dazzle people with my business acumen. Fly home. Be promoted to president of the company. Live happily ever after." She held up her glass.

  He tapped his glass against hers. "To happily ever after."

  She frowned and rubbed her nose. "Oh, and at some point in time, actually register at the hotel and get some sleep."

  He waved his hand in the air. "Welcome to the T. Hall Charterways Suites. I can recommend a lovely couch on the right side or the much more panoramic left side of the plane."

  "What can you see out those windows you can't see out these?" She nodded her head at the window behind her.

  He pointed across the aisle. "On that side of the plane, you see a lovely rain splashed wilderness, highlighted with occasional flashes of lightning."

  She twisted around to look out the small window opening. "Then what's out there?"

  "You don't want to know."

  Capri turned, knelt on the couch and plastered her face against the glass. "It's the same view." She shifted and plopped back onto her seat and tried to tuck some stray hair back in line. "And…I'd just like to get my hair washed. Maybe have supper." She swallowed a mouthful of wine. "Other than peanuts and pretzels. And I know that makes me sound whiney. Which I'm not really. I'm just so tired."

  "I'll wash your hair and we do have supper stored in the galley."

  "Excuse me? Jet lag seems to have screwed up my hearing."

  "Your company hired me to be your go-to-guy. You know, pilot, chauffer, and body guard. I guess I can slip in hairdresser and chef too." And lover. I'd really like to add lover to the list. To taste this wine on your lips, I imagine it's better than ambrosia.

  Capri peered over the top of her wine glass. She raised her right eyebrow. "Body guard?"

  Thall blinked. "Your company thought that some of the places might not be safe. Especially for a lone woman. Kidnappers. A rich white business woman makes a pretty tempting target." Hell, I'd kidnap you, but wouldn't demand a ransom. I'd have no intentions of giving you back.

  He popped the cork on another bottle of wine, filled both glasses, set the bottle on the table then ripped open a bag of peanuts and poured them into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing them, he stood. "Let me see what's here for dinner. Then after dinner, we can do you."

  "Pardon?" Capri held her glass by her mouth.

  "Do your hair. Jeez, what'd you think I meant?" He chuckled as he rose and walked to the galley.

  To silence the rumblings of her stomach, Capri picked up a bag of pretzels and pulled it open.

  "We have Beef bourg…bourgui…what?" His voice drifted from around the divider

  "Bourguignon. It's French. Beef cooked in red wine. Usually served with noodles. I love it." She lowered her feet to the carpet and padded to the plane's kitchen.

  "And we have sea scallops cooked in a white wine sauce. Okay, I'll have that."

  "Sounds yummy."

  Thall spun and bounced into Capri. Her breasts squished against his chest. "Tight quarters."

  "I came to help." Her breasts dragged across his chest as she squeezed past him.

  The sensation peaked Thall's body temperature and he felt a light sheen of moisture on his brow. He removed it with a quick swipe of his sleeve.

  Capri opened and closed a couple of drawers. "I've never been in a galley on a plane before. It's always a no-man's land on a plane. The flight attendants protect their domain."

  "That's because they don't want you to know where they store the booze." He pulled open a door revealing shelves filled with small bottles of liquor and large bottles of red and white wine.

  Capri raised her eyebrows and smiled then pulled out a bottle of white wine and read the label. "2008 Didier Dagueneau Silex. Sounds expensively delicious. But alas, I'm having beef, and this isn't chilled. It will have to wait." She reached for a red wine. "A burgundy might be good. Gevrey-Chambertin. Well I'll give this a try." She turned.

  "For side dishes there's saffron rice and asparagus tips. Why not the whole asparagus?" He shifted.

  In the tight space, they stood squeezed against each other. Neither moved. Heat seemed to pour out of her and flood his body. His head swam with a need to embrace her. Pictures of her wrapping her legs around him and abandoning herself to his desires filled his mind. "Not a lot of space here."

  "No." She smiled and blinked. "And it's only the asparagus tips because tits are the best part."

  He glanced at the front of her blouse. "Often thought that myself."

  She closed her eyes and dropped her head to his shoulder. "Tips. Tips. With a p. I don't believe I said that."

  Thall reached to embrace her against his body, but caught himself and lowered his arms.

  "I'm going to go back in my chair and pretend none of this happened." Holding her bottle of wine, Capri stepped out of the galley.

  He chuckled as he called after her. "There's Hazelnut Torte for dessert. What's a torte?"

  "Fancy cake." She called over her shoulder.

  "A fancy cake made out of nuts?" He shrugged, placed the meals into the warming ovens and set the timers. Settling himself back onto the couch next to Capri, he placed his feet on the table. "Dinner in twenty minutes or so."

  "How do I get to my luggage? I'm going to take you up on that offer of doing my hair. And my shampoo is in my luggage. Obvious statement I know, but just tossing it out there."

  "Crap." Thall turned and peered out the window. The rain continued to fall. "I sh
ould've thought about the storm before I decided to play white knight and gallantly offer to wash your hair." He settled back into his seat. "Of course your shampoo is in your luggage, which is in the storage compartment, which is in the belly of the plane, which is—if I can use one more which—only accessible by going out there." He pointed to the storm.

  The windows on the left side of the plane illuminated with a burst of brilliance. He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a coin. "Flip you for it. Best two out of three."

  "No take backsesy. You offered."

  "Take backseys? This woman speaks a foreign language."

  Capri giggled. "Don't think I've used that word since I was eight. Must be the wine." She picked up her glass and finished the last mouthful.

  Thall straightened his shoulders and stood. "I can do this. I'm the captain." He strode to the door, released the lock, pulled it aside and pressed the switch to lower the stairs. The roar of thunder rumbled through the cabin. He turned his head. "Couldn't you wash your hair with those little bars of soap?"

  She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "Do you have any idea how much this hair color costs?"

  He placed his hand over his heart. "I do this for hair color." He stepped out onto the stairs.

  "And don't fall down and break your leg like the attendant did. I suck at being a nurse."

  Thall peeked into the cabin. "Did you say you changed your mind?"

  ~ * * ~

  Laughing and trying not to spill her wine, Capri flicked her hand indicating he get a move on.

  Stomach and curiosity aroused by the aromas emanating from the warming ovens, Capri returned to the galley, found an oven mitt and peered inside. She was fantasizing about the meal when she heard her luggage drop to the floor and the Captain mumble something about, "Need to dry off."

  Pulling open doors and drawers, Capri found silverware, dishes and linens and set the small table for dinner. She placed two tall red candles in gold candlesticks and placed them on the table. The timer buzzed. She pulled out a tray and peeled the foil back. The rich, heady aroma of beef in wine sauce wafted across her face.

  Capri turned to place the tray on the counter. She fumbled, but caught the tray, and the gasp that almost escaped her throat. Standing before her in low-slung jeans with his t-shirt draped over his left shoulder was her fantasy. She blinked. Her gaze started at pectoral muscles, which screamed lick me and lowered to etched abs that slid down to – Capri guessed--heaven covered by denim.