Playboy

by Logan Chance

  “Listen, if I have to break up with him, then I quit.”

  Everyone’s jaws drop.

  “Ok, I voted for the marriage. We can even do an official wedding in New York, maybe in the Gardens?” Gary gushes.

  I shake my head. “I haven’t decided that either. I know Jonah and I need to talk whenever we’re ready.” I lift my chin. “But, whatever we decide, it’s our decision.” I move toward the door. “And whatever we decide, I’ll let you know.” I place my hand on the doorknob, after slinging my bag over my shoulder. “And, if that’s not good enough for you…then fire me.” I open the door and step over the threshold. Leaning my head back in the door, catching everyone’s eyes as big as quarters, I say one last thing, “Oh, and Carol, fire that bitch, I want a new publicist.”

  I slam the door.

  I may have just cost me my whole career, but I don’t care. That felt too good.

  Jonah

  I do want more. Right? I want to take pictures I enjoy taking. Maybe even win an award on one of my photos.

  Like why else would I go through the trouble of having a website? For more, right?

  “Hey man,” Randall says, stepping into my office.

  “Hey.”

  “Still radio silence from Chelsea?”

  I shrug and mumble something incoherent. I’ve never been this miserable. This love-sick.

  “You need to go and talk to her.”

  Yes, I’ve told Randall pretty much everything about the situation. He actually offers some pretty good sound advice, but…it’s all stuff I already know.

  I know I should go bust down her door and demand her to talk to me. Sling her over my shoulder, tie her up until she hears me out. Ha. I’m not doing any of those things. Duh.

  “I know, I’m just giving her the space and time she needs,” I say.

  “Nah, fuck that. You need to go and see her.”

  “You know what, you’re right. Sometimes you just have to say fuck it.” I stand and grab my bag.

  “Go tell her you love her,” Randall shouts as I rush out of the office.

  I plan on telling her, there’s just one place I need to go first.

  One thing I need to do.

  “Jonah, there you are,” Glenda catches me on my way out the door. She hooks her finger. “Follow me.”

  “Glenda, I really don’t have time for this.” I have to go win back my girl.

  “Oh, trust me, this you’ll want to see,” she says, leading me into her office.

  I sit down, waiting, patiently I might add as she steeples her fingers together and takes a deep breath.

  “Suspense is killing me here, Glenda.” I crack a smile.

  “Jonah, look at this…” She spins her computer around and I shake my head. Hot damn.

  Chelsea

  BAR SCENE IN VEGAS

  I’d always hated this scene and it was the last scene to be deleted

  “Yes.” I loop my arm through his.

  We step up to the bar, beginning our celebratory fun with some champagne. After the bartender slides us each a flute, we toast.

  “To taking great pictures,” I say, raising my glass.

  “To making great pictures.” He clinks his glass with mine.

  “Let the fun begin.” I glance over my shoulder.

  He follows my line of sight. “Want to gamble?”

  “Surprisingly, that’s the only thing I don’t want to do.”

  He tilts his head and raises a brow. “Yeah? You have to at least do one slot machine, ok?”

  “Ok. Let’s make a pact to gamble all night but not with money.”

  “What exactly do you mean?”

  I finish my champagne and set the glass on the bar. “Like wagers.”

  “I love the idea. I’ll start. I bet you won’t do a shot of tequila with me.”

  “Easy,” I say.

  He orders the shots with no training wheels. Training wheels are the salt and lime, he informs me.

  The bartender slides us the shots, and we hold them up, clink the glasses, and down the hatch.

  I scrunch my face. “Ouch, that burns.”

  “It goes down hard, huh?” he asks, setting his shot glass on the bar.

  “I don’t mind things going down hard, but that was rough.”

  He steps in closer. “All this talk about rough and hard is doing things to me.”

  “Oh yeah, what kind of things?” The air sizzles between us.

  I take a moment to fall into his eyes. So brown. So beautiful.

  I want him to do rough, hard things to me.

  He steps back. “Rough, like how you’re going to lose every bet. And hard at how I’m going to try to win.” His voice oozes sexiness, but the mood has evaporated. We’re back to being Chelsea and Jonah, friends.

  Even so, my chest warms when he offers a soft smile. “Let’s go explore,” he says, stepping further away from me.

  He drops a few bills atop the bar, and again his hand finds its way to the small of my back.

  Note to Reader

  In this book the characters quote movie quotes to each other. I have italicized all movie quotes in dialogue, instead of using the formal .’ ” seen here.

  I did this because it is more eye appeasing, and with some of the formatting, quotation marks were ending on separate lines. So, please be advised.

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  1. Erik

  “It isn’t a secret your dick needs some action.”

  “Fuck, Lexi, can you please not talk about my most treasured organ?” I asked as we sat in a side booth at the local diner.

  “It’s hardly an organ. But, that’s my point. It’ll shrivel up and fall off if you don’t use it,” she said, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder.

  “I use it plenty.” I picked up my fork and spun it between my fingers before digging into my egg special. This conversation couldn’t be more wrong.

  “Oh, please. You haven’t been laid since Gretchen what’s her face, and that was over eight months ago.”

  “I don’t know what’s more disturbing here, the fact you remember that, or you’re my sister.”

  Lexi, my twin, the female version of me, only with a touch of snarky sass and a foul mouth to make a few sailors blush.

  “What are we talking about here?” Marley’s soft voice filled the booth and I cringed. My sisters were double teaming me, and I knew it.

  “Erik’s dick,” Lexi answered, through a mouthful of pancakes.

  “Ooh, let me get my magnifying glass, and I can join in.” Marley, the baby of the family, pushed on my shoulder, and I scooted over so she could slide in beside me.

  “Enough.” My deep voice was firm. “I’m not having this discussion again with the both of you.”

  “Touchy. What’s wrong big brother?” Marley picked up the menu and gave me an innocent look. “Did the girl from the coffee shop not work out?” she teased.

  The problem with both my sisters was they liked to meddle. And their favorite life to intrude on? Mine.

  Lexi pointed her fork at me. “All I’m saying is, you would be a lot happier if you got your dick wet.”

  “Tell me again how Jared puts up with you?” I asked.

  “Oh, the relationship is still new, and I suck a mean cock. I grab it real good with both hands,” Lexi dropped her fork and wrapped her hands around an imaginary dick, giving a sly grin to Marley, “then, I swivel my head around and go to town.” She laughed as she picked up her fork and knife and sliced into her pancakes.


  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked while they both laughed.

  “Nothing,” she said as a dribble of syrup oozed out of her mouth.

  “Calm down, Erik. We’re only trying to help,” Marley said as the waitress approached and took her order.

  “Yeah, what she said.” Lexi pointed her fork toward Marley and then continued to devour her stack of blueberry pancakes.

  “And what makes you both think I even need your help?”

  Lexi’s fork and knife fell from her fingers, clattering on her plate. Her head sprang up; mouth open with the remnants of chewed up pancakes. She grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth while she finished off the food in her mouth. “Ok, shit just got real. You need us Erik. Have you forgotten what next month is?” Lexi asked.

  Marley giggled beside me as my face heated. “I told you not to mention next month. I’m going to be doing some rock climbing in an undisclosed location.”

  “Oh please, no you aren’t. You’re going,” Marley said firmly, turning over her coffee cup for the waitress to fill. “Just like all of us are going. To show that bitch what she’s missing out on.” The waitresses’ eyes grew wide, but Marley waved her off with an apology.

  “Why would she even invite me anyways?” I asked, totally deflated once again.

  “You know exactly why. Our moms are best friends. Mom doesn’t realize she’s a life-sucking whore. And because Steffie wants to make everyone else just as miserable as her,” Lexi chimed in.

  “On her wedding day?” I popped a slice of bacon into my mouth as both Marley and Lexi laughed.

  “Of course on her wedding day. Bitches want everyone miserable on their wedding day,” Lexi said.

  I shook my head; the mysteries of women being revealed a bit more by my sister’s warped minds. “I don’t think most girls think like that.”

  “Ok, not most, but Steffie Jamison sure the fuck thinks like that.”

  Steffie, Stefany Jamison, my ex-girlfriend who I dated for five years and now the fiancée to a man she met while on an African safari a few months back. The point was, we broke up last year, and I was over her. But, when her wedding invitation came in the mail, I was once again devastated.

  Not because I wanted her back, but because she was happy without me.

  “You need a smokin’ hot date,” Marley said when her pancakes arrived.

  I passed the syrup over after she nudged me with her knee.

  “Erik, you not only need a smokin’ hot girlfriend, but you need to move on. I like to see those blue eyes happy. Let me see the baby blues.” Lexi snapped her fingers in front of my face as I closed my eyes.

  Both my sisters liked to tease me about my hypnotic blue eyes or so they called them. I tried not to smile as their teasing continued.

  “Seriously, all I’m saying is you need to find someone. Why haven’t you?” Lexi persisted. “You’re a good-looking guy. Tall, lean, that slightly just fucked looking hair.” She winked at Marley. “And you’ve got those full lips just like me.” She made a kissy face and I glared at her. “And that’s why I called this meeting.”

  I knew it. My assessment was right; this was an ambush.

  “Meeting?” I asked.

  “We kind of have something to tell you,” Marley said in a voice which I knew meant she had already done something I would not be too happy about.

  “Tell me,” I demanded.

  “It’s nothing really,” Marley hedged.

  “Tell me, now.” Trying to get information from the two of them was like interrogating a national spy. Sometimes the thought of torturing them came to mind.

  “Weeellll,” Marley drew out the word.

  “Oh, for fucks’ sake, just tell him,” Lexi interrupted. “We made a profile for you on the new dating app, Cupid’s Happy Hearts.”

  My mouth grew dry and my face burned with irritation. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t want to be on some stupid Cupid’s Crappy Farts or whatnot. I’m going to kill you both.” Anger shot through me as I thought more and more about the events of next month and my sisters’ meddling.

  Marley turned in the seat, and her green eyes locked with mine. “Listen, Erik, we did this out of love. We don’t want you to show up to Steffie’s wedding alone.”

  “Who cares. Steffie will be getting married not worrying about who my date is.” I shoved my plate away, too disgusted to eat. Disappointment washed over Marley’s face and I sighed. My baby sister was my weakness. “How many messages?”

  “That’s the spirit,” Lexi said. “Well, you’ve received a few arrows and winks. And about seventeen messages.”

  I sat back against the red vinyl booth, crossing my arms, as I listened to Lexi explain each message in detail.

  “There’s one girl we like a lot. Lexi tell him about the one girl,” Marley exclaimed.

  “Go ahead, Lexi, tell me about the one girl.” I stayed in my position praying the vinyl would suck me away, and I could return home.

  “Her name is Violet, and she’s a saucy real estate agent.” I raised a brow and she held up her hands in mock surrender. “Her words not mine. Anyways, she’s twenty-eight, and she seems like a good match with you.” Lexi pushed her plate to the center of the table and crossed her legs in the booth. She leaned over with both elbows on the table and widened her eyes, waiting for my response.

  “Oh, really. Why’s that?” I asked.

  “Well, she likes airplanes.” Lexi placed her feet back on the floor, her nervous energy getting the best of her.

  “Did she say that? Did she say she liked planes?” Lies, I could see right through Lexi.

  “Not in so many words,” Marley interjected, placing her hand on my arm, “but she recently went on a trip on a plane.”

  I dropped my head, staring into my lap, and shook my head. “You two are really reaching here. Fine, how about you give me the login info, and I’ll check it out.”

  These two were relentless, and they would never give up unless I gave them something. They both squealed with delight, and I felt I had just signed my own death sentence. But, the truth was, I did need a date for Steffie’s wedding. As much as I wanted to ignore the fact, her wedding was coming, and I would not be the only dateless mother fucker there. No, I’d have a date, and I’d flaunt that bitch right under Steffie’s fake nose.

  After the ambush at the diner, I returned to work with the login info to the crappy cupid site stuffed in my back pocket.

  “How was breakfast?” Connor asked as I walked into the hangar and grabbed the pre-flight checklist clipboard.

  “Breakfast with the sisters. What do you think?”

  “That’s shitty. What did they want this time?” he asked, following me over to the Gulfstream.

  The sleek private jet was fueled and ready to take its owners to the Caribbean Islands. The owners traveled to the islands a few times a week, and Connor and I made sure they got there.

  As captain of the Gulfstream, and Connor as my co-pilot, we usually spent many nights sleeping away from our homes.

  “Get this, they put me up on some dating phone app.” We climbed the stairs to the jet and entered. The flight attendant was there making sure the cabin was in pristine condition. We waved to her, headed into the cockpit, and shut the door.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Which one?” Connor ran a hand through his short, auburn hair and laughed.

  “Cupid’s Crappy Shits And Giggles. I can’t remember the name.”

  “I think I’ve heard of that one.” Connor laughed. “Anyone hot on it?”

  “I haven’t even looked yet,” I said.

  “So, what’s the big deal? Find some pussy on the site and move on.”

  I shook my head before placing the headset on my head. A rap on the door had me biting back my words. I didn’t need to find pussy on a dating app to move on. If I wanted pussy, I could get it.

  “Hi, boys. The guests will be here shortly. Did either of you need anything?” Selene, our flight
attendant, asked.

  “No, thanks. I’m all set,” Connor answered.

  “What about you, Captain,” she slowed the word captain, dropping her voice an octave or two.

  “I’m fine, Selene.” Selene was relentless in her pursuit of me. “Thank you.” Never fuck a flight attendant. That was my number one rule all through flight school. Especially on this gig. I loved this job.

  She smoothed the side of her dark bun and turned on her heel, closing the door behind her.

  “Man, fuck. She wants your cock,” Connor said, going over his pre-flight checklist. “Take her to the wedding.”

  “Nah, I don’t want that. I’m not looking for anything serious.”

  “Steffie really did a number on you, huh?”

  I stared at all the knobs and gauges in front of me. “Yeah, and I’ll never make that mistake again.” And I wouldn’t. I would never fall in love. My mind was already made up.

  2. Erik

  Once we landed on the island of St. Thomas, I made my way lazily to the penthouse suite I always stayed in when flying Mr. Bartlett and his family around.

  I retrieved my phone from my pocket and glanced at the screen. Marley had sent a few text messages apologizing for Lexi, while Lexi sent a few apologizing for not yelling at me sooner.

  Emptying the contents of my pockets, I gazed at the crumpled napkin from the diner with the login info scribbled onto it. Did I really want to do this? Guess it couldn’t hurt to at least check it out.

  I grabbed my phone, plugged in the info, and took a deep breath. Oh, fuck. I’m going to kill them.

  My profile was nothing but idiocracy devised by my sister’s lack of creativity.

  Profession: A kickass pilot.

  Hobbies: Kicking ass.

  Favorite Quote: “Kicking ass and taking names.”

  Did these girls not put any thought into my profile at all? A notification pinged before I could read any further.

  A message in the app appeared from Violet, the saucy real estate agent. I squinted my eyes, bringing the phone closer to try and make out her picture. It appeared it had been taken in the Stone Ages, and I wasn’t too sure this was even the right decade for her hairstyle.

  I read the message:

  Hey sexy,