Chapter Four

As she prepared to land in Paris, Margo sighed heavily. It had been a long flight.

It was always a long flight when she had to work with Norma Wilson.

Although Margo was a long-time employee with the airline, protocol demanded that the most senior flight attendant was called the first flight attendant on any trip. Traditionally, it was a position Margo held because most of the flight attendants were relatively new, but whenever she flew with Norma, who’d been hired a year before her, she was forced to hold her tongue and suffer Norma’s petty abuses, which she hurled randomly at everyone who didn’t sit in the cockpit.

During the ten hours they’d just spent in the air, Norma had berated Kacie for organizing the drink cart poorly, threatened to write up Trevor for snapping back at her and driven Valerie into the tiny lavatory for twenty minutes where she breathed into a paper bag to lower her blood pressure.

Although she criticized everyone, it seemed to Margo that Norma delighted in chastising her whenever they flew together, since she had an audience—all the flight attendants who liked Margo more and preferred her as the first flight attendant.

Margo also thought there was another reason Norma harbored ill-will against her: she was homophobic. She’d heard her make jokes about faggots and fag hags, and the two crosses she wore around her neck served as symbols of her devotion to the Baptist faith and obviously Leviticus. More than a few times, Margo had endured Norma’s litanies on religion. What few knew was her glaring hypocrisy: Norma was a whore.

Staring at her as they taxied toward the gate, Margo scowled. Norma was a year older, forty-two, but her wholesome Midwestern upbringing—as she put it—preserved her beauty, and she could pass for thirty. Margo couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She was dark-haired, while Norma was a blonde, and in their secret competition to bed the most customers, Norma was ahead of her by at least two dozen people—all of whom were men.

She couldn’t understand how a devout Baptist could justify whoring around, but there was no way she’d ask. The explanation was most likely long and convoluted, and she figured that only God should be subjected to listening.

She glanced at her bag, stowed under the seat in front of her, and thought of the vial nestled in the oak box. After listening to Grace’s adamant unwillingness to swallow the Root of Passion, she was having her own doubts. It had been different standing in the store with the goddess, Chayna. She’d been so sure, so willing to swallow the black liquid without a care. Grace was a doctor, though, and she spoke with such credibility and authority that Margo wondered if she’d behaved moronically.

She wasn’t sure what to do. A part of her wanted to hurl the box into the Seine, but she was incredibly curious, and she couldn’t get Chayna out of her head. She closed her eyes, and it was as if she was standing before her, smiling.

She whispered, “Yes, it is the right thing to do. You need to know that it works.”

She quickly formulated a plan, but she wasn’t sure she could go through with it.

“Margo, dear, ” Norma called, gaining her attention. “When the passengers debark, don’t forget to smile. You didn’t look very friendly on our last flight together.”

Norma offered a winning smile and faced forward in her seat.

It was then she knew she could go through with it.

By the time the crew was settled into their hotel, it was nearly one a.m. That didn’t stop the flight attendants from crowding into Norma and Margo’s room to invade the mini-bar for snacks and liquor. If Norma had one redeeming quality, it was her willingness to pick up the tab. No one ever offered to help pay, and Margo imagined they saw it as compensation for enduring her abuse.

Within an hour they were pleasantly toasted and quickly vacated, having gotten what they came for—free alcohol. Only Margo remained, sipping her vodka tonic while Norma cracked open a tiny bottle of Dewar’s.

“Crap, I need to clean out my glass and take a tinkle, ” she muttered.

She grabbed the water tumbler she’d used to slurp down a bad cabernet and headed for the sink. Margo saw her chance, and with only a sliver of regret, pulled the vial from the oak box that had traveled with her to France and carefully poured a few drops into the bottle. She heard the toilet flush and Norma emerged, waving the glass in front of her, urging her to pour the Dewar’s.

She drained the alcohol and smacked the glass on the nearby dresser.

“Is it hot in here? ” she asked, unbuttoning her blouse and discarding her bra.

Margo had seen her naked many times, as they frequently shared a room, but her distasteful personality coupled with her Bible thumping beliefs kept Margo’s libido in check. Now, though, Norma wasn’t herself. She stared into the mirror, caressing her nipples and stroking her abdomen.

“I feel so incredible, ” she said. “It’s like I’m on fire.”

She faced Margo and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor, exposing her silver thong. Her hands continued to roam the contours of her body, eventually settling in her thick hair. She yanked the combs that secured her tight bun, and let her blond mane swirl about her face.

“What do you think? Should I wear my hair down more often? ”

Margo stretched out on the bed, lacing her hands behind her head. She was definitely enjoying the show.

“I think you should dance for me.”

Norma’s eyes lit up, and she grinned broadly. She ran to the clock radio and surfed the FM band until she found Aerosmith singing Walk this Way. She jumped on the bed, hovered over Margo and gyrated to the music. Margo had never given Norma’s perfect ass a second look. Of course, she’d never shaken it in her face before.

Norma danced like a stripper, flowing like a wave, and Margo wondered about her past careers prior to flight attendant school. Norma seemed oblivious to her presence, focused on the music and her own pleasure. She kept her eyes shut, letting her toned arms drift about, keeping her balanced on the bed.

“Take it off, ” Norma commanded. She stood directly over Margo, who reached up and peeled the silver thong away.

Aerosmith was replaced with The Moody Blues Knights in White Satin, and Norma swayed gently to the music, slowly spreading her legs apart.

“Like what you see, you big dyke? ”

“I do.” Margo sat up and stroked Norma’s thighs until she moaned with pleasure. She hadn’t swallowed any potion but she was definitely getting hot. “Does that feel good? ”

Norma looked at her, pained and confused.

She wants it, but she’s not supposed to want it.

“Yeah, ” she admitted. “It feels wonderful.”

She gasped, and Margo could tell she was lightheaded and about to fall off the bed. She pulled her down and rolled on top of her. She quickly undressed, Norma’s eyes never leaving her.

They lay together, and Margo settled her own mound against Norma’s, finding a rhythm that matched the eerie strains of The Moody Blues classic. It didn’t take long for Norma to climax, and Margo was quite surprised when a searing orgasm tore through her own body. She cried out, so loudly that she was certain Trevor heard her in the next room. She only allowed herself a second to analyze it. Perhaps it was Norma’s beauty, the heat of the moment or the smug superiority that she felt in bedding her homophobic boss.

She smiled supremely, noted the look of bewilderment on Norma’s face and trailed kisses down her stomach into the pot of gold.

Morning brought a pounding headache as the sun poured into the room. Margo sat up and the memories of the previous night clicked into place. Norma wasn’t in the room, and in fact all of her things were gone. Suddenly thinking she’d overslept, Margo jerked her gaze to the alarm clock and was relieved to see she still had three hours before she was due to the airport.

She met the others for breakfast, and Trevor mentioned he’d seen Norma climbing into the airport shuttle an hour before. Kacie suggested she was meeting the pilot for a secret tryst, and they all laughed.

But Margo knew better, and a twinge of guilt pulled at her heart. Then she remembered her purpose and the way Norma always treated the flight crew, and her guilt evaporated like the creamer in her coffee.

The pre-flight meeting with the entire crew was clearly awkward for Norma, who made a point to stand between the captain and co-captain.

Does she need protection from me?

Norma’s gaze remained on the captain’s face throughout the meeting and for the first time that Margo could remember, Norma refrained from her usual chastising comments. She was silent, seemingly withdrawn and detached. An image of her gyrating on the bed filled Margo’s head, and her body warmed at the thought.

It was good sex. No, she corrected herself, it was great sex. And Norma wanted it. Over and over.

“Teach me how to love a woman, ” she’d cooed in her ear.

Margo almost laughed out loud as the captain reviewed the flight information, remembering that Norma hadn’t needed any training at all. She was a quick learner.

The meeting broke up and the crew dispersed to perform their pre-flight duties. Margo turned to go, but felt a hand on her elbow.

“We should probably talk, ” Norma whispered.

She led Margo into business class and they sat down. Norma faced her, looking pale, her lip trembling.

“I’m not sure how much you remember about last night. I mean, I thought I was drunk, so I was rather surprised when I woke up and I didn’t have a hangover. And, I recall every detail of our little mistake.”

Margo raised an eyebrow. “Mistake? ”

“Of course it was a mistake, ” Norma hissed. “I’m not a dyke. I don’t sleep with women.”

The look of revulsion on Norma’s face was a match that lit a fire inside of Margo. “Really? You seemed pretty into it last night. I’ve got your thong in my suitcase as a souvenir. Remember you said I should keep it? ”

Margo stroked her hand until she yanked it away. There were tears in her eyes, as she obviously assessed the trouble that Margo could create for her.

“Margo, I’m not sure why it happened, but it won’t happen again. I love Jesus, and I can’t betray him with that kind of sinful behavior. I don’t mean to put you down, ” she quickly added, “but I’m a God-fearing Christian, and we don’t abide by your choices.”

She hung her head. “As it is, I’m going to have to schedule a talk with my pastor and ask to be cleansed.”

Margo pictured the good reverend pouring a gallon of bleach over her head.

“Norma, I promise I won’t say anything to anyone, but I also think we shouldn’t be on the same flights anymore.”

She nodded vigorously. “I agree. If you see that I’ve signed up for a flight, you should just pick a different one.”

As the senior flight attendant, Norma chose her schedule first, and of course she always picked the best flights at the best times. Margo’s choice was to join her or pick the second-rate flights. She opted for a balance, ensuring that they only flew together half of the time.

“No, ” Margo said. “That’s not going to happen. I’ll keep my mouth shut, but from now on you’ll let me pick first, and if I’m on a flight, you’ll choose another.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s blackmail.”

“I know, ” she said. She kissed her cheek and gave her thigh a quick stroke. “But while I’m spiritual, I’m not a God-fearing Christian. And I won’t hesitate to tack your little thong on the lounge bulletin board and never give a thought about how I’ll pay in the afterlife.”