“Of course.”
We trade some quick anecdotal updates about ourselves. He asks about me ‘helping my friend’ move, and I make some vague references to it. I want to tell him about Helen, just to complain a little, but I keep feeling reluctant to bring her up. Part of me worries that Helen’s his type, not me.
The person he met, wearing all those designer clothes, fierce and confident and unafraid to embrace her liberated sexuality? That’s me, but only when I’m draped in the luxuries of Helen’s wealth. Now, wearing an oversized V-neck tee, I feel nothing of the sort. But feeling my voice mingle and dance with his, it conjures the girl I had been for him, the girl in the Dior and Manolos.
Will I ever be able to be that person again? At this moment, just for now, while he can’t see me, I can close my eyes and on the wave of his voice, I’m Alexa the Glamorous.
“Right,” I say, after the appropriate amount of small talk passes. I’m distracted enough, thankfully. “On with the show. What happens next with the princess and the thief?”
SIXTEEN
N THE third night, the thief returns to the princess. He made her a promise, after all. And a promise you make to a magical princess living in a tower is a sacred, special promise,” I tell Alexa, immediately getting into my story.
I’m sitting in the dark corner of an airport bar, sipping on a Coke. It’s not a major connection, so there isn’t a lot of people here. Hell, the bartender looks positively annoyed he’s working tonight, and worse, he’s looking like he’s upset I’m here, sitting in his bar, ordering his drinks, reminding him of the futility of his job.
It’s good to be back in the States. Real service-oriented people, us.
I focus on Alexa. “In the dead of night, the thief takes the long, hard trek to her high, faraway tower, and he makes the dangerous climb up to her window.
“This time, there are no snares, only the princess, waiting for him. And still as radiant and beautiful as ever. Try as he might to focus on his mission to steal her fabulous jewel, his eyes feat on her beauty.
“She’s delighted to see him return, and she comes to greet him when he arrives, hugging him tight. Her beauty ignites him yet again, and the horny thief immediately wants to take her to bed.
“But the princess makes him wait and tells him that she must explain something to him. So he listens.
“The princess begins, ‘I have been imprisoned. Forced to stay here by my wicked father,’ she says, and she begins to tell the thief about her life. ‘He wanted to keep me here, all by myself, so no man could come and claim me.’ But the problem is, now that she’s known the love of the thief, she can never again go back to the life that she knew before. She knows now that she could never be happy. That before, she only thought that she was happy. Now she knows that she wasn’t.
“And then she takes his hand and leads him back to the cushions and throws of her big, soft bed. She invites him, entreats him to make love with her, and by this time, he doesn’t need a lot of encouragement. Our thief is pretty completely encouraged. This time their lovemaking is even more powerful, more romantic. She’s taken the thief’s heart, like this.”
Alexa approves. “Very sweet. Lucky him.” She murmurs.
“Or lucky her,” I suggest. “After all, he wasn’t the one who’s been a prisoner all his life.”
“Fair point there.” I hear a sigh.
“When they reach the most ecstatic moment together and the fall into each other’s warm embrace, their lovemaking is complete and they’re left with nothing but arms of tenderness. They lie back in the billows of her bed, sweating, panting, used up but content to have one another. She sits up slowly and says, ‘as you have managed to please me so much, I will allow you to take any one thing you wish from this tower. There are all manners of treasures here, lavish gifts from my father hoping to buy my silence and consent. You can have anything you desire here, but only one thing.’
“The thief already knows that the princess’ belongings are so unbelievably luxurious that just from this room alone, her possessions could make him as wealthy as a king in an exotic, foreign land. His eyes sweep the room with the trained gaze of a professional thief, all too used to assessing the value of items on the fly.
“Yes, there’s the jewel, the special jewel he coveted for such a long time but if the princess means what she said about him having any one thing he wants, then surely there could be something even more valuable in here than the jewel.
“Furthermore, he knows that princes from all over the world have tried to earn her love, sending her gold, and precious gems, hoping to impress her. The princess shows a remarkable disdain for these worldly goods. The thief feels almost greedy, staring at every single thing in front of him. This will easily be the most rewarding heist in his life — and he wouldn’t even need to steal anything, he’s being gifted it.”
Alexa interrupts, and she sounds rapt in attention. “I bet there’s a catch somewhere.”
“No catch, at least none that the thief can spot. He knows the princess, he’s the one man who’s managed to get in this close with her, even if they’ve only known each other for two nights. He can sense that she’s being truthful here.”
“Oh, man, then I was right, he’s the lucky one,” Alexa triumphantly says.
“Okay, okay. So yeah. The thief slowly stands up, as the princess stretches her arms out, telling him he can have anything he wants. And what does he want? Well…”
I pause and lick my lips, enjoying the suspense that I’ve plotted just for this story.
Alexa tuts in disapproval. “That wasn’t even as long as the previous parts of the story, Jagger! You can’t stop there.”
“Oh, but, I can,” I tell her firmly. “Shhh. Do you want the story or not? If you do, you’re going to have to wait a little longer. Another night. After all, I’m already in the States again, I’ll be flying back into the city soon. Consider this untimely break a chance for me to recharge my batteries.”
She’s so cute when she’s denied her story. “The ending’s really obvious, anyway,” she says, raising her voice in faded outrage. “You might as well tell me now.”
“Oh? Maybe there’s a twist ending,” I suggest. “We could hear the rest of the story over drinks at this new cocktail bar I’d like to check out, down on Teller Street. Been there before?”
“No,” Alexa laughs. “That sounds fancy.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t think there was anything that would strike you as fancy.”
There’s a pause on the other line, but eventually Alexa says, “I want you to tell me the rest of the story. That’s non-negotiable.”
“Alright, alright, fine. I guess I’m going to have to order another Coke. I’m sitting in an airport bar and I feel like the bartender hates me.”
She laughs. “I bet he does. Hates how good-looking you are, too.”
“If you think you’re so clever, why don’t you tell me how the rest of the story goes?” I prompt Alexa.
“Of course, the thief makes a big fuss about wanting every single item in the place, but even his greedy ass is smart enough to know that his heart’s desire is sitting in bed next to him. He picks the princess, of course, and they run off together, living happily ever after,” Alexa finishes for me.
“Not quite. I mean, he does pick her, yeah, but they’re still stuck in a tower! He’s got to carry her down the climb down. It’s a dangerous one, made even more risky by the fact that he’s carrying her on his shoulders but, in the end what matters is that he has the most precious treasure in the room. Her.”
“So exactly what I said, then,” Alexa giggles.
“And then, they lived happily ever after.”
“Sounds to me like he only took her so he can ransom her off,” Alexa says, the giggles getting to her again. “You know, that was a way better story. Obvious as day, but I liked it a lot. And this one really was a love story. Thank you, Jagger.”
“You’re very welcome. Now that I
’ve told you another story, you’ve got to give me an answer. Will I get to see you again?”
“Not for many years, not until a thief comes to rescue me from this tower,” Alexa jokes, her usual trick to deflect something like this. “Okay, fine. Yes, I’d like to see you again. If you want to.”
“Of course I want to, that’s why I asked,” I counter.
She sounds happy and excited, but I end up thinking about how she was at the beginning of the call. Something was bothering her, alright, even if she tried to play it off as just having a lot of thoughts. I know I care about her — something that people who know me would not always expect that I do about women I desire — but her being bothered bothers me, too. Still, it’s her business. If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to push.
“I’m thinking about how you told me that first story and we ended up, you know… playing on the phone together. Adult play,” Alexa flirts. “Do you think we might do that again? Not on the phone, but in person.”
“Pretty sure I’d rather be atop you, pinning you down, and kissing you all over, rather than detachedly rubbing my cock as you watch,” I tell her.
“Sounds hot to me, actually,” Alexa laughs. “I mean it.”
“Okay, damn. You’re a wilder, kinkier girl than I realized.”
“Than you realized?!” Alexa practically yells. “You’re lying if you say that you only discovered that now.”
“Hah!” I laugh. “You’re right. Fuck. Goddamn, now you’ve got me wishing that I wasn’t at this bar, getting ogled at by the bored bartender.”
“It’s for the better, really,” Alexa answers. “I’m going to bed now. You should get some sleep, too. Captains can’t play if they’re tired.”
Imagining her right now, I’m envisioning her in a large, lush bed, wearing just a silk nightgown, biting her lip as she presses her phone to her ear, whispering these sweet suggestions. Goddamn.
“That’s a worthwhile point,” I tell her. “I need some sleep, and so do you. Let’s call it a night. So it’s concrete, right? I’ll see you when I’m back?”
“Yes, I’m looking forward to it,” Alexa says. “Goodnight, Captain.”
SEVENTEEN
WAKE UP THE next morning before Sonya does, the wellspring of anxiety keeping me from sleeping in. I’m thankful to my best friend for letting me stay with her, and the pillows on her couch turn out to be surprisingly cozy.
Sonya wakes up and gets ready a short while later. I hear the shower. I unpack some of my clothes from my bags, laying them down on the couch.
Checking my phone, I confirm the addresses of the job interviews I have today. None of them have looked like sure hits and they haven’t improved. Still, I go down the list, psyching myself up for each one. Determined to give them all the very best shot that I’ve got.
I’m going to go for them, and I’m going for all of them like my life depends on it. At this rate, any job will do for me. And my life could depend on it.
My best friend comes out of her bedroom, all dressed and ready for work. “Hey, you’re up. That’s good. Early bird gets the worm and all.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “You know, it’s only now that I’m no longer bumming at Helen’s that I realize just how terrible my wardrobe is. Seriously, look at my stuff. This is what I’m going to have to choose from to go to my interviews? I’m never going to get a job.”
Sonya goes to her fridge, taking some bagels she immediately pops in her toaster. “That’s not too bad,” she tries to comfort me. “I mean, at least you’re not going to those interviews wearing your pajamas.”
“At this rate, I might have to. Ugh, and I’m not even that worried about how to dress for the interviews — I have to see Jagger again, that’s what I’m afraid of,” I tell her.
“If he likes you, he won’t care what label you’re wearing, babe,” Sonya says with a stifled yawn, just as the toaster flicks the bagel halves up with a ding! to signal that they’re done. “You’re overthinking it, I promise.”
“He thinks I’m someone like Helen. I made a slip when we were on the phone last night, something about me never going to fancy places. You should have heard the surprise in his voice. He was like, ‘you? Not fancy? You’re the living, breathing embodiment of fancy.’”
Sonya laughs. “Come get something to eat. I’ve got to rush out quick. Cream cheese okay with your bagel?”
“Perfect,” I say, joining her in her kitchenette. “Seriously though, I’m starting to feel like I’m somehow guilty for misleading this guy. Makes me feel like this is a house of cards that’s going to just tumble down. He’ll discover I’m no fancy, glamorous girl, and he’ll move on to the supermodels waiting in a line behind me.”
“Alexa,” Sonya says, shaking her head. “Trust me. From what you’ve told me about him, he sounds like he could be a real good guy. I’m willing to bet you good money that he won’t do something like that.”
“Good thing for me I don’t have any money,” I grumble. “So, what, I should just… be myself?”
“Exactly. Be yourself. That’s who he’s all head over heels for,” Sonya says.
“If that’s so easy, why didn’t I think of it earlier? Yeah. I should just be myself.”
“Be yourself and get your shit together, babe,” Sonya says, biting into her bagel. “Gotta go! I’ll see you when I get home, okay? Oh yeah! Best of luck with the job interviews. Hope you knock it out the park.”
I watch my best friend leave, and I return to my resume. Be myself. That seems a little too obvious. Maybe, though, this time it could work.
In any case, I resolve to myself that Jagger needs to see the real me. How he deals with it is up to him, but I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not anymore. I want him, and I want him to want me.
The real me.
Interviews one, two, and three done. Am I going to get any one of those jobs? Well, if I don’t it won’t be for lack of trying.
I’ve got another two before I can call it a day.
So far, none of these have really connected with me. Flash my resume, flash a smile, talk about how excited I am to explore work opportunities with them, so on, so forth. I’m putting on the very best show that I can but inside, it’s a little soulless. I am excited about having a job. but none of these really seem like good fits for me.
Not that I’m picky. I’ll take any job that’ll have me, if it helps me get back on my feet.
My phone’s been put to vibrate-only all day. Jagger calls me while I’m doing the paperwork for interview number four. I don’t want to pick this up. As much as I enjoy hearing his voice, talking to him right now would pull me out of the zone.
Princesses and thieves are not what I need to think about right now. What I really need to think about is my Microsoft Word and Excel proficiency.
I place a hand into my handbag and reach for my phone, flicking it from ‘vibrate-only’ to ‘no notifications’. The screen stays lit, because Jagger follows up that first call with a second one.
His determination is a rare trait in men. Others come off as pushy and persistent. Jagger comes off as someone who knows what he wants, and will pursue it until he gets it.
I hand the clipboard with my information back to the assistant hovering over me. For some reason, he has a thick British accent. “Mr Wallace will see you shortly. I’ll come to collect you when it’s time.”
There’s clearly going to be a long wait. Men and women in muted business attire wait in chairs lining the walls. If Jagger calls me again, I might even pick up.
I pull my phone out and wait. After five minutes, I realize he’s not calling again.
Captain Charming (Tales of 1001 Flights) Page 13