Man Up in the Air, published in “Hook, Line and Sinker”, 2023 Sisters in Crime Anthology

By Judith Carlough

Temptation doesn’t always take the form of a serpent with an apple. Sometimes, it’s a blonde with curves that beckon like a country road. I was flying home after an emergency meeting with my Midwest sales team. The meeting had been a train wreck—everyone hated next year’s product line—and I had pulled a shoulder muscle in the hotel gym this morning after the young trainer asked if I wanted to join their Senior Stretch class. Christ, I’m only forty-seven, but I must have looked seventy, hungover from the big team dinner at a fancy rib joint, a peace offering to get everyone drunk and happy. Now, my back and neck felt like I’d been carrying King Kong, and my fingers were swollen to the size of carrots. I took three Aleve from my briefcase and swallowed them dry.

I settled into my first class window seat, hoping the aisle seat would remain empty. I exhaled, grateful the trip was over, but dreaded my homecoming; it was my fifteenth wedding anniversary and my wife, Barbara, had given me holy hell for the last-minute trip. She’d made reservations at Le Chevalier, the most pretentious French restaurant in Savannah. The only  thing I liked there was the wine list, which I would put to good use.

My twins girls wouldn’t be excited to see me, either. I had failed to get them tickets to a sold-out Billie Eilish concert. No way was I paying a scalper five hundred bucks a pop.  

  I ordered a double scotch before takeoff and checked out the flight attendant. She was a twenty-something knockout—creamy skin, a tawny blonde braid down her back, firm breasts that strained her uniform jacket—and all thoughts of family evaporated. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been unfaithful to Barb but I’m not blind, and lookin’ ain’t cheatin’.