Wings (18 page)

“My name is Desmond Williams, and I saw you at the air show two days ago. I wanted to speak to you, if I may,” He looked around the hangar and then back to her “Is there anywhere we could go and talk?” She looked startled at the question. No one had ever come to visit her that way, and the only place to talk privately would have been her father's office.

“If you don't mind the noise of the planes, we could walk over near the runway, I guess.” She didn't know what else to offer him.

They began walking side by side, and she almost laughed thinking of how incongruous they must have seemed, he so beautifully clean, and she so incredibly dirty. But she forced herself to look serious. She had no idea if he had a sense of humor. She saw that Billy had caught sight of them by then. He waved, but she only nodded.

“You were very impressive at the air show,” Desmond Williams said quietly to her as they walked along the edge of the fields, and his shoes began to get very dusty.

‘Thank you.”

“I don't think I've ever seen anyone win so many prizes… certainly not a girl your age. How old are you, anyway?” He was watching her very carefully, and he sounded serious, but he was quick to smile at her. She still didn't know what he wanted.

“I'm twenty. This fall I'll be a junior in college.”

“I see,” he nodded, as though that made a big difference. And then he stopped walking and looked at her pointedly before he asked his next question. “Miss O'Malley, have you ever thought of a future for yourself in aviation?”

“In what sense?” She looked completely baffled, and all of a sudden she wondered if he had come here to ask her to be a Skygirl, but even to her, that didn't seem very likely. “What do you mean?”

“I mean flying… as a job… as your future. Doing what you love best, or at least I think it is. You certainly fly as though you love it better than anything.” She nodded with a smile, and he watched her face relentlessly, but so far, he liked it.

“I'm talking about flying remarkable planes, planes that no one else has… testing them… setting records… becoming an important part of modem-day aviation… like Lindbergh.”

“Like Lindbergh?” She looked amazed. He couldn't mean it. “Who would I be flying for? You mean someone would just give me these planes, or would I have to buy them?” Maybe he was trying to sell her a new plane, but Desmond Williams smiled at her innocence. He was glad that no one had gotten to her before him.

“You'd be flying for me, for my company. Williams Aircraft,” As soon as she heard the name, she realized who he was, and she couldn't believe he was talking to her and comparing her to Charles Lindbergh. “There's a wonderful future out there for someone like you, Miss O'Malley. You could do great things. And you'd be flying planes that otherwise you'd never be able to lay your hands on. The best there is. That's quite a thrill. Not like these.” He looked around him disparagingly, and for a moment she felt hurt on behalf of her father. These planes were her friends, and her father's proudest possessions. “I mean real planes,” Williams went on. “The kind that world records are made in.”

“What would I have to do to get the job?” she asked suspiciously. “Would I have to pay you?” No one had ever offered her anything like this, and she had no idea how it worked. She had always thought that important pilots had their own planes, it had never occurred to her that they were given or loaned by aircraft companies like his. She had a lot to learn, and he was more than willing to teach her. She was the first fresh face he had seen since he had taken over his father's business.

“You wouldn't have to pay me anything.” He smiled at her. “I would pay you, and handsomely. You'd get your photograph taken all the time, you'd get a lot of publicity, and if you're as good as I think you are, you could become a very important figure in aviation. Of course,” he looked at her carefully, “you might have to wash your face a little more often than you do now,” he teased and she suddenly remembered that she was probably covered with grease. She wiped her face on her sleeve, and was astonished at what she saw there. But he was even more impressed by the face he could see better now. She was exactly what he had been looking for. She was the girl of his dreams. All he had to do now was get her to sign a contract.

“When would I start?” She was curious, it was the most exciting thing she had ever heard, and she couldn't wait to tell Nick and her father.

“Tomorrow. Next week. As soon as you can get to Los Angeles. We would pay your way out of course, and give you an apartment.”

“An apartment?” Her voice almost squeaked as he nodded.

“In Newport Beach, where Williams Aircraft is. It's a beautiful spot, and you can get into the city in no time. What do you say? Do you want the job?” He had brought the contract with him, and he was hoping she would sign without waiting another moment. But she hesitated briefly as she nodded.

“Yes. But I have to ask my father. I'd have to give up school. He might not like that.” Particularly not for a flying job. Although he'd never been overly excited about her going to college. But he might not like this either.

“We could arrange for you to take classes, whenever you're free. But most of the time, you'll be pretty busy. There's a lot of good will involved, a lot of photography. And frankly, a lot of flying.”

It sounded utterly fantastic. “Actually, I came by yesterday, but the man in the office said you were flying. I left my card with him, and asked for you to call me. You probably got back too late, but I thought I'd better come out here again just in case he lost my card.” He smiled a winning smile at her, as Cassie looked at him pensively.

“You gave it to a man?” It had to be Nick or her father.

“I did and I told him I was staying at the Portsmouth. Did you call me there? Maybe I just didn't get the message.”

“No, I didn't,” she said honestly. “I never got the card or the message.”

“Well, there's no harm done. I'm glad I found you today. Here's the contract for you to go over with your father.”

“What does the contract say?” she asked innocently.

“It commits you to a year of test flights and publicity for Williams Aircraft, nothing more than that. I don't think you'll find anything wrong with it,” he said confidently. He somehow managed to convey, just looking at her, that this was a great opportunity and she would love it.

She held the contract nervously in her hands, wondering what it all meant and why he had really come here. It couldn't really be this simple.

“I'll show my father,” she said quietly. She wanted to ask him about it too. Why hadn't he and Nick told her anything about Desmond Williams's visit? To give them the benefit of the doubt, maybe they had just forgotten. But something told her it was more than that. They had kept it from her. But why? It sounded so perfect.

“Why don't you think it all over, and we'll meet again tomorrow morning. How about breakfast at my hotel at eight-thirty? After that, I've got to head back to the West Coast. But hopefully you'll be there too in a few days.” He smiled, and she noticed that there was something very persuasive about him. He was very handsome and very cool, and he somehow made it sound as though she couldn't possibly resist him, and surely wouldn't want to. “Eight-thirty tomorrow morning then?” he asked pointedly, and she nodded. They shook hands on it, and a moment later, he had walked back to his car and driven away. As she stood staring, the Lincoln disappeared into the horizon. She tried to remember everything she'd ever heard about Desmond Williams. He was thirty-four; he was one of the richest men in the world, and he had inherited an empire from his father. His company made some of the finest planes, and he was supposedly ruthless in his business dealings, she had read somewhere. She had seen a photograph of him with some movie stars. And in her wildest dreams, she couldn't imagine what he wanted with Cassie O'Malley.

She walked slowly toward the small building where Nick and her father worked, thinking of everything he had said, and what it might mean to her. It was an opportunity that clearly would never come again. She couldn't even bring herself to believe that it had come this time.

She walked in, in her father's old overalls, and he glanced up at her, with her streaked face, and disheveled hair, and asked her if there was a problem with the de Havilland, because if there wasn't they needed it at noon for a long run. But she wasn't paying any attention to him, as she stared at him. And in her hand she was holding the contract.

“Why didn't you tell me someone came to see me yesterday?” she asked, and he looked suddenly startled.

“Who told you that?” He was going to have Nick's head if he had betrayed him. But Nick was staring at them. He had seen the look on her face when she walked into the office.

“That's not the point. A man came here yesterday and left a card for me. And neither of you ever told me.” She turned angry eyes to Nick then, accusing him as well, and both men looked uncomfortable beneath her gaze. “That's like lying to me. Why?”

Her father tried to look unconcerned. “I didn't think it was important. I probably just forgot.”

“Do you know who he is?” She looked from one to the other of them, unable to believe that they had been that ignorant. “He's Desmond Williams, of Williams Aircraft.” It was one of the largest manufacturers of airplanes in the world, the second biggest in the States. Desmond Williams was certainly what one could call important.

“What did he want?” Nick asked casually, watching her, but he already sensed what Williams must have said, from the way she was behaving.

“Oh… just to give me a bunch of remarkable planes to fly, you know, to test fly, set records in, check out for him. Nothing much. Just a little job like that for a whole lot of money, and an apartment.” The two men exchanged a dark look. This was exactly what they'd been afraid of.

“Sounds nice,” Nick said easily, “what's the catch?”

“There is none.”

“Oh yes, there is,” Nick laughed at her. She was still a child, and he knew that he and Pat would have to do everything they could to protect her. Desmond Williams was flying around the country looking for publicity props, and once he had her, he would use her till she dropped, not just for test flights, but for everything else he could, newsreels, advertisements, endless photography. In Nick's opinion, she was just going to be another kind of Skygirl. “Did he give you a contract?” Nick asked casually, and she was quick to wave it at him.

“Of course he did.”

“Mind if I have a look?” She handed it to him, and Pat glared at both of them. This was exactly what he had never wanted.

“You're going to say no to him, Cassandra Maureen,” her father said quietly as Nick pored over the contract Nick was no lawyer, but it looked pretty good. They were offering her a car, an apartment, for her use of course, not as a gift; she was to fly anything they thought appropriate, doing test flights for them; and the second part of the contract said that she would be available for unlimited publicity in connection with their planes. She had to make herself available for social, state, and even national events, for photography at the drop of a hat. She would be counted on as a spokeswoman for Williams Aircraft, and they expected her to act accordingly. She couldn't smoke at all, or drink excessively, there was an allowance for wardrobe costs, and they were going to supply her with uniforms she could fly in. Everything was clearly spelled out. The contract was for one year, and they were offering her fifty thousand dollars for the year, with a renewable option for a second year, if both parties agreed, at a higher rate to be negotiated, within reason. It was the best contract Nick had ever seen, and an opportunity few men would have turned down. But the contract also made it clear, Williams Aircraft was looking for a woman. It could be an opportunity that would be hard to miss, in spite of the fact that she was going to be part pilot, part model. But he was still deeply suspicious of Desmond Williams.

“What do you think, Pat?” Nick looked up at him, curious about his reaction.

“She's staying right here. That's what I think. She's not going anywhere, and certainly not to California to live in an apartment.”

Cassie looked at him, blinded by anger over his not even telling her that Desmond Williams had come to see her. “I haven't decided yet, Dad. I'm going to meet with him tomorrow morning.”

“No, you're not,” Pit O'Malley told his daughter firmly, and Nick didn't want to argue with him in front of Cassie. He thought there were plenty of possibilities for exploitation in the deal but it was still worth exploring. It would be fun for her, and she would fly incredible planes for the next year. It was very exciting. They were even testing planes for the military, and openly competing with the Germans, and the money she would make would take care of her for a long time. It seemed unfair to him to keep her from it, or not to at least consider it carefully.

“What about college?” Nick asked her quietly as her father stormed back into his office and dammed the door behind him.

“He said I could take classes there when I have time.”

“It doesn't sound like you will, at least not most of the time. When you're not flying, you'll be doing publicity.” And then, cautiously, “Cassie are you sure you want to do this?”

She looked at him thoughtfully. She had never wanted to leave home, but her life wasn't going anywhere. She liked hanging around the airport, and she had had a good time at the air show. But she didn't want to teach. She didn't want to marry Bobby Strong, or any of the other boys she'd gone to school with. What was she going to do with the rest of her life? She wondered sometimes. And even she knew that there was more to life than greasing and gassing her father's planes, and making short runs to Indiana with Billy Nolan.

“What am I going to do here?” she asked honestly.

“Hang around with me,” he said sadly. If only she could, forever. He would have loved it.

“That's the bad part of
it
, leaving all of you here. It would be perfect if I could take you all with me.”

“It says in the contract they'll lend you a plane to come home with now and then. I can hardly wait for that. How about bringing home an XW-I Phaeton for a quiet weekend.”