Page 70 of Come Fly with Me

I arrive at the airport earlier than necessary with a smile on my face, ready to start the day, but it’s short-lived when I board the plane and realize the crew is talking about me.

“Trent said she’d sleep with any…” a young flight attendant trails off as she catches my eye and quickly looks away, her cheeks flushing red.

“Taylor,” croons Samantha, a flight attendant I’ve known for a while but was never really friendly with after I found out she fucked my husband right around our one-year wedding anniversary. “We were just…”

“Gossiping about me? Trent’s still out there peddling the story that I cheated on him, huh?” I tap my elbow against her a couple of times as I add, “But we both know different, don’t we, Samantha?” I look right at the young flight attendant and smile. “Sammy here slept with my husband while we were still married, so she’s not as innocent as she looks.”

An appalled tisk falls from her lips, her mouth dropping open. There’s a tension hanging in the air, an awkwardness that makes any crew within earshot squirm a little, but they remain hoping to catch the rest of the conversation.

“I’ve always liked you, Taylor, but that was really rude,” Samantha says, a hand over her chest, dishing out an innocent routine that she knows like the back of her hand.

“Really? So sleeping with my husband, was that your way of trying to get close to me?” I shrug my shoulders, a faux dumb look on my face. I blink a few times waiting for her response. I’m tired of being shit on and acting like it’s not happening. There are no repercussions for people’s rudeness, and even if it labels me a c-u-next-Tuesday, I at least can say I stuck up for myself.

“Trent’s right. You can be a real bitch,” Samantha huffs out, turning on her heel, but the plane isn’t big enough for her to get the last word in.

“That was probably the wrong thing to say to the person who’s flying the plane you’re on,” I call out, and my first officer, who is now standing on the jet bridge, lets out a small chuckle.

“If it isn’t Taylor Patterson. Always one with the smart mouth, but one of the best damn pilots I’ve ever known.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, throwing my arms around the older man standing in front of me. “I thought you retired?”

“Every once in a while I’ll pick up a short flight to cover for someone. It’s like I’m back on reserve.”

It’s been years since I’ve seen Jerry, and it’s a pleasant surprise to be flying with him. He was my mentor when I first started at Crescent Airways. He was the first person who believed in me, and he was also the first person to tell me that Trent would never believe in me the way I believed in myself.

“I always told you that your mouth would bring exposure to your ability, and it looks like you’re still as feisty as ever. All publicity is good publicity, right?” He gives me a wink, slipping past me and into the cockpit.

Before I follow him, the young flight attendant catches me by the arm, stilling me, and I turn to look at her.

“I’m sorry. That was rude of me to be talking about you,” she says, shifting her feet as she talks.

“He’s charming,” I say and even though she tries to hide the surprise, the truth slips through in her eyes.

“Who?” she asks, an uneasiness wavering in her word.

I was her once. Blinded by how charming and handsome Trent was. Manipulated into believing I was the only one, but in the end, I came out strong and he’s the one still gossiping about me. I’m going to guess his reputation is catching up with him, while mine clung to me like a baby koala to its mother.

I give her a small but sympathetic smile, and as much as I want to dole out advice, I hold back. He doesn’t deserve any more of my time.

She stops me again, her eyes wide, and she pauses for a second as if she’s processing what to say. “I want to be a pilot,” she spits out quickly and then looks down at her feet.

“Then he’s the wrong person to align yourself with.” I hold up one finger as I quickly grab a business card from my purse. Handing it to her, I say, “If you’re ever in L.A. for a bit, stop by and ask for Charlie or Carrie and tell them I sent you. You can also give me a call anytime. I’m happy to help you out. We need more women pilots.”

“Thank you,” she says, skeptical of my willingness to help her, wary of the image that has been thrust upon her by rumors and bitterness.

“I’m not a bad person, I just have a bad reputation.” I shake my head, not wanting to say anything more at the risk of sounding like I’m defending myself. She’ll hear what she wants, she’ll believe what she wants and I’m not responsible for her misconceptions about me.

The flight is uneventful and easy. I chat with Jerry, making the time pass quickly, and before I know it, I’m in my car heading back home. Tomorrow, I have my evaluation, and then after that I have a full five days off.

Before I have even left the parking garage, I’m calling Carrie to see what she’s up to because it’s been a while since I’ve had enough time off that we’ll actually get to hang out.

“Hey, lady, you back in town?” she asks without even greeting me.

“I am, and I’m already bored,” I joke back at her.

“Oh, the life of a commuter pilot. All exotic places and entertainment twenty-four-seven. Where’s your boyfriend at?”

“I think he’s in Hong Kong right now, but he should be back in L.A. in a couple of days.”

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