by Oliver Rill
“Hey, good to hear from you!” I was really glad to take the call.
“Sorry I was on set a lot and didn’t get back till late.” James said.
I worked hard on my facial expression to hide the glee I felt from Daniel. “What can I do for you?”
“There is something, but do you flying to Austin?”
“We do as a matter of fact.”
“Can you book me a ticket?”
“Sure, when?” James gave me the dates. He was flying up to his family for Christmas.
“I don’t suppose you could drop the tickets off at mine tonight?”
“It’s the 20th century. I can email them!”
“Yeah, I guess I’m just old fashioned. I’d prefer you to bring them. You could just slip them in your pants pocket. Eight o’clock ok for you?”
“I can tomorrow. I’ve got something on tonight.”
“Oh ok. Tomorrow at eight. I’ll have to see what I can get up to tonight.”
“Get some sleep, you might need it tomorrow! I’m in a meeting right now.”
“Ah, ok. You can’t talk right now. Ok, then I’ll be waiting with something nice to eat for you tomorrow evening.”
“Who was that?” Daniel asked nosily.
“Just a good client who I’m going to eat with tomorrow.” I lied.
“I’ve emailed you a couple of suggestions for a new Can Am Logo.”
I rolled my eyes. That was so typical of Daniel. As we sat together all those evenings in Berlin on the Airline stimulation game, he had changed his logo nearly every week or reduced the airline to nothing and built it up again from scratch, then mocked me because I hadn’t wanted to.
“I’ll certainly have a look at them. Why don’t you go down to Rebecca and tell her that you want to design a new logo for Can Am and ask her what she thinks. You know my answer. Ask a professional. And if she says the same thing that I do, then you owe me a Christmas present. A nice one!”
“Alright, alright! I get it.”
“No. I’m serious. Go ask Rebecca what she thinks. I want to know. Go on! Call me when you are with her. I’ll wait.”
Daniel went and his call came shortly after.
“Ok. You can go chose a Christmas present. You’re all in cahoots!”
“I only wanted to go Christmas shopping with you, really. Come on, let’s go together. It’s boring on your own.”
As I drove to Malibu, doubts crowded my mind. What was I doing? Did James really want a serious relationship with me? I doubted this. I had already resigned myself to never hearing from him again. He would normally be out of my league and I’d just be another secret in a long line of secrets under the cover of a wife and child. I was looking forward to seeing him, whatever the night would bring, but he simply clicks his fingers, as if to say ‘Hey bitch bring me the ticket then I’ll fuck you.’ And I run around doing his bidding. I did feel it was all a little cheap I made a firm decision that this, the second time, would also be the last time with James Aickens. I would allow myself this short fantasy and get it out of my system and not be used again. That was the plan, anyway.
“Come in.” James held the door open in blue jean shorts and a simple white T-shirt, showing off his tan. I gave him the ticket he had ordered.
“I’ll need a receipt for that.” I teased.
“Sure, where do you want it?”
“You are so wicked!” I laughed.
“I’ll receive you like you’ve never been received before!”
And he did. After, I started to pull on my pants.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going home.”
“You’re going nowhere. We’re going to lie here awhile and talk.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“First take this off again.” He said pulling at my pants. “And then I want to talk about me feeling used when you just disappear like that afterwards.”
“That’s odd, because I thought you were using me.”
“Maybe we’re both using each other. You know what I think is cool? You aren’t in the business and don’t know all the idiots I work with. You don’t run straight to the press cos you’re worried about getting caught. Actually you are the ideal guy.”
“Okay, since we are being honest with each other. You surprise me. I googled you and see you with a wife draped on your arm and kid in tow. The sex was good, but then I heard nothing from you and now you want to cozy up. How does all that fit together?”
“Daniella and I are just friends. You can see that in everything if you read between the lines. We were friends for seven years then we suddenly became a couple and got married. It’s not hard to work out what’s going on there, is it?”
“And the kid?”
“Her boyfriend’s - not mine. It’s this business, that’s the way it works. And you? Doesn’t anyone ask you why you’re not married?”
“The press doesn’t find me nearly as interesting as you. People want to fly, they don’t really want to see my private life, so they don’t ask the question, or if they do, as a matter of politeness and rarely.”
“I find you interesting!” He said, pulled me into his arms and kissed me. “I googled you. You are the industry’s hero at the moment.”
“Only because the other airlines are owned by faceless shareholders. There’s a real flesh and blood man behind ours. I do try to keep out of the limelight though and let the product speak for itself.”
“Are you going to stay for breakfast?”
“That’s tantamount to a proposal, isn’t it?”
“No, that’s tantamount to a second round of hot sex. I can’t have a long term relationship; you know that, don’t you?”
“James, I have to go. I can’t do this. I’ve gotten too far involved with you already and I know I’m going to get my heart broken here.”
“I understand. I’m sorry Oli. I just can’t go there.”
I tried hard to put a light mood on during the drive home, after all, I had already decided not to see him again, but I couldn’t hide it from myself. I was disappointed. As ever, I thought longingly of Matt. James had been almost perfect in the short time I had known him, but I wouldn’t have been able to develop a deep, intensive relationship with him as I had with Matt. And why should I? James just wanted a bit of fun, unlike me who wanted everything in one big, beautiful package or nothing at all. If I rang James in three days’ time and asked him to a pillow fight that evening, he was bound to say yes. But I would be left with a bitter taste, knowing as I did that nothing more would come out of it. He would never take it further. I had to forget him.
Daniel and I joined forces to do our Christmas shop. Aaron had given me a lecture about what his purpose in my life was and what he was responsible for. I had snuck off alone too often lately and gone who-knows-where, without letting anyone know. Daniel hid his grin behind his fist when he saw Aaron, the giant with limbs like tree trunks holding our carrier bags for us. Aaron was going back to his family in Florida over the holidays and had booked some free time to be with them. He asked me to promise at least to get around by cab, rather than drive myself and that I found an easy promise to make.
“I want proof. Pictures please!” He said with a grin. “And when are we flying back to Sifnos? I want to see the house and I could really get my face around one of those portions of Mousaka that you get down by the quay, right now!”
“There won’t be much point before May, unless we’re needed to sign something for the house or something.”
“Oh boy! That long?”
“It’s not really warm until May, anyway.”
“Ok, I guess we’ll have to wait then.”
Daniel and I flew to Berlin and celebrated Christmas with the Berlin gang. It was my mom’s birthday too and it was good to be there with her. She didn’t want to go to my beloved GMF club, at one in the morning, understandably, so we left her to her bed and partied until the early hours, dancing, talking and drinking. I took
a cab as I had promised Aaron back to the Marriot, where I stayed, fell asleep in the back without a care in the world.
Happy New Year! Can Am closed at 458 mill.
Congratulations! Melvin.
What that meant for my private life didn’t need to be worked out on a calculator. There would be over 46 million including my salary of 300 thousand in my bank account in the morning. I found it hard to envisage a sum like that. We could have made more profit, even though we needed significantly more employees and the building in Venice although far too large at the outset was now bursting at the seams. I almost jumped in the air with glee. Then I came down slowly as I wondered what I was going to do with it all. I could pay off the houses and still have 31 million over. Maybe I could get something in Berlin, but I couldn’t be asked. What now?
I rang mom and dad and asked them to come to the hotel for breakfast. I asked the Maitre de for a sheltered corner in the restaurant, so I could have a private conversation with them both.
“You look so happy. Are you in love?” asked mom, with a gleam in her eye.
“That would be nice. But I am happy because I’ve earned so much money I don’t know what to do with it.”
“Buy yourself an apartment here, or in Switzerland.”
“And what would he do with an apartment in Switzerland?” Scoffed my dad.
It was true. What would I do with it? “Mom, if you want an apartment in Switzerland, I’ll buy you one.”
“Oh, what me? No, I’d rather stay in a hotel.”
“Then do that, please. Hire a Rolls Royce and chauffeur and get yourself driven there to stay in the presidential suite. I mean it. Really.”
“Now you don’t have to throw the money out of the window! Just hold on to it, you might need it later.”
“Dad, I don’t want to hear that you have to save for something you want anymore.”
“Oh, I don’t need anything.”
“Ok. Listen up. I have got a lot of money, Dad. Maybe I’ll buy that piece of land that Rosie had on Schwanenwerder. If you looked after it, I could pay you a decent salary and you would never have to work again.”
“What would you want to buy that for? You’re never in Berlin.”
“I know. So maybe a nice apartment around Kudamm?”
“You have an apartment!” Mom interjected. And she was right, but I had let it out and Martin was managing it for me.
“Right. So no apartment and you don’t want anything. Have I understood that right? No car, no caretaker job, nothing. Really? I mean I can give you up to 400,000, tax free, over the next ten years. Dad, please tell me what you want. Or give me your bank details and I’ll transfer it. Mom, you too, come on.
“My God. How much are you earning then?”
“Nearly 50 million.”
“What? You’re not.”
“I’m telling you! Help me to spend it. You just have to say what you want.”
“I’d be happy with 200, but you don’t have to do that, Oli.”
“Mom?”
“I don’t need it. I’ve got enough.”
“I know, Mom, but you never spend it because you’re worried that you won’t have it when you need it.”
“Ok then, I’ll have 200 too, but you really don’t need to do this.”
“And spend it, ok? Don’t worry about spending it on a few luxuries. And Dad, you stop working. You don’t have to slave on other people’s house improvements anymore. I’ll transfer it when I get back to L.A.”
My parents didn’t really get it that I was now a multimillionaire and to be honest, it didn’t ring true for me yet. I decided it wasn’t a good idea to spread the news around either. Most people knew that I was doing well financially and that I was quite generous with it, but not how well. And no one but my parents should know that and they would never say.
In L.A. I took steps towards being an honest man. I paid off the house in Santa Barbara and the debt in Fort Myers. I transferred the promised sum to my parents and paid for the house in Sifnos. Ad naturally wanted to know how Can Am was doing and I couldn’t lie. He knew, of course, what that meant for me financially since he had had the contract drawn up.
“When you gave me your first forecast back then, I thought you were exaggerating. But it really wasn’t. That’s great, I’m really happy for you. Carry on as you were!”
There was a brand, spanking new car waiting for me at the office. I had to make a choice between selling the Range Rover to the company, buying it myself or giving it up. Aaron now drove me around in a somewhat modified Maybach S 600. An off-road vehicle was probably not the right one for me. Most people would expect me to be in a limousine. I still found it a bit OTT having to have a chauffeur, but that the PR Department was getting in on the act and telling me what car I was allowed to drive (or be driven in) was really a bit much. I could, of course, have complained about it, but in the end, what for? It was not the be-all-or-end-all of anything. Aaron always took the car home, parking it in the underground parking lot. I couldn’t do that, there was no room and anyway. Who needed three cars?
“Oli that is the crème de la crème, of all cars. Those Germans certainly know their cars.” It was love at first sight for Aaron.
Each day Matt and I worked to an increasingly hectic schedule.
“By the end of the year, we’ll have a fleet of 225 planes. What do you reckon on us taking another 25 and making it a round figure? I’ve got a couple of nice routes in mind.” Most of the staff had left the building and I had asked Matt into my office. We sat with a bottle of red wine on the two comfortable sofas in the corner.
“25 all at once? That’s hell of a risk, Matt.”
“Might as well get hung for a sheep as a lamb.”
“Do we have the demand for it? We would need another ten thousand customers a day. That’s a bit risky, I think.”
Matt took a deep slug of his wine and sat on the edge of the sofa.
“Look, firstly we’re giving the others a signal that we are serious, not just all smoke and mirrors. Secondly, Boeing is likely to be a lot more accommodating on the subject of 737s if we have a contract like that in the pipeline. We’ll earn more and we’ll grow. Have I ever disappointed you, Oli?”
“Yes, you have.” I said dryly.
“Man, Oli! I meant at work.”
“Ok, you haven’t. But 25 is too many, in my eyes. I don’t want to take that risk. Let’s say 15. And I have to clear it with Melvin first to make sure we have the cash.”
“Melvin would have agreed to 25. I’ve already spoken to him.” He leaned back, grinning, confident in his victory.
“Ok. We’ll order the 15 and pray that it works. Tell them I need the 737s.”
“I will. Are we planning for 2019 yet?”
“What were you thinking of?”
“I want to get better connections to Seattle then spread further east.”
“We’re turning over nice and steady at the moment.”
“We need, don’t hit the roof, Oli, we need 300 planes as it stands.”
“300? We’ll never manage that!”
“That’s what Melvin said, too. But if we went on the stock market, we would.”
“But we’re not doing that.” I placed my glass firmly on the table to underline it.
“Ok, plan B: we grow more slowly and order a hundred planes. If we did it in batches of 25 at a time, Melvin says we’d manage it. We could order 25 from Boeing for delivery as soon as and order the other 75 for completion by the end of the year and take delivery of them bit by bit.”
I mulled it over. It was still a bit risky, there was so much that could go wrong. On the other hand, we were always booked out and it would be dumb not to expand further.
“We would have 340 planes at the end of 2019. That is really ambitious, but I think we could do it.”
“And I’d like to see it, with all the routes that you’ve envisaged and … When does Athens start?”
“You’re going over again?
”
“Yes, I have to.”
“We fly to Athens from New York from the 1st May. We’re taking bookings already. I’m looking forward to seeing how we do there.”
“What are we flying to Athens?”
“A 777. I can’t see us filling a jumbo.”
“That’s great, Matt. How’s the Porsche?”
“It’s a sure fire chick lure.”
“Back to work, Casanova!”
Aaron drove me home in the Maybach. I must admit, because it’s slightly different from a normal S Class, I didn’t feel I stuck out like a sore thumb as much as I could have.
“It’s not as grand as your Town Car in Fort Myers!”
“You never give up do you? But you have given me an idea. I was wondering which car to leave at Santa Barbara, now I know. It’s another one of my dream cars.”
“Good God! Please let him see reason as we see reason in thine eyes.”
“A Lincoln Town Car from the late 70s. Now that was the bee’s knees!”
“You’re crazy! Why not get an Aston Martin or a nice Hummer or, or anything! Why do you want such old bangers? It’s so embarrassing!”
“Did you ever see Metaphysical? Did you see the beauty that Damien drives in it?”
“Well yeah, that is cool.”
“So here’s your job for the day: Find a Town Car from the late 70s in excellent condition. It can come from anywhere in the USA. I just want it to have been kept in good condition. No bumps or scratches or rust. Or just that that’s easy to fix. Has to be black.”
“Oh great! I have to find the damned thing as well.”
“Aaron, you asked me to give you more responsibility. If you don’t want to be going out buying jock straps all the time, then this is a good alternative, isn’t it?”
“I’m just joshing you. I’ll find you one.”
And he did. For the sum of $38,000 with an incredibly low 988 miles on the clock, it was practically as it was from the day it left the factory. You could see from the pictures that it was spotless. Indeed, where would the dents or scratches come from if it had been so little driven?