Wings

He handed Nick a card. His name was Desmond Williams. And the card said “Williams Aircraft,” with an address in Newport Beach, California. Nick knew exactly who he was. He was the young tycoon who had inherited a fortune and an aircraft company from his father. And he wasn't all that young, Nick decided, looking at him. He was pretty close to his own age. In fact, he was thirty-four. A lot too old for Cassie, according to Nick anyway.

“Will you be sure and give her my card? I'm staying at the Portsmouth.” It was the finest hotel in town, which wasn't saying much. But it was the best Good Hope had to offer.

“I'll tell her,” Nick assured him, dying of curiosity. “Anything else?” Williams shook his head, and looked Nick over with interest. “How did you like the air show?” Nick couldn't resist asking him. “Not bad for a small town, eh?”

“Very interesting.” Williams conceded with a smile, and then sized Nick up again, and decided to ask him a question. Williams's whole style was very cool, everything about him was perfect and manicured, totally calculated and planned. He was a man who never made mistakes, or allowed himself to be swayed by emotions. “Are you her instructor?”

Nick nodded with pride. “I was. She could teach me to fly now.”

“I doubt that,” Desmond Williams said politely. He had an Eastern accent despite his Los Angeles address. And twelve years before, he had graduated from Princeton. “She's very good. She's done you proud.”

“Thank you,” Nick said quietly, wondering what this man wanted with her. There was something faintly ominous about him, incredibly cool, and strangely exciting. He was very good-looking and very aristocratic, but everything about him said that he meant business.

He didn't say another word to Nick then, but got back into the car he'd just bought in Detroit a few days before, and drove swiftly away from the airport.

“Who was that?” Pat asked as he came outside. “He certainly kicked up enough dust. Can he go any faster?” The car was the latest wonder by Ford, with a V-12 engine.

“That's Desmond Williams.” Nick answered his question with a look of concern at his old friend. ‘They're after her, Pat. I never thought it would happen, but I think it may now. She made just enough noise at the air show.”

“I was afraid of that.” Fit looked unhappily at Nick. He didn't want her exploited or used, and he knew how easy it would be for that to happen to her. She was beautiful and young and innocent, and an incredible flier. It was a dangerous combination, and they both knew it. “Where is she?” Pat asked.

“She's gone. She and the Nolan kid took off just as he got here,” Nick explained.

“Good.” Fat glanced at the card in his hand, took it and tore it in half. “Forget him.”

“You're not going to tell her?” Nick looked at him in amazement. No matter what he thought, he wouldn't have had the guts to do that. But on the other hand, he wasn't her father.

“No, I'm not,” Pat answered him, “and neither are you. Right, Stick?”

“Yes, sir.” Nick saluted with a grin, and they both went back to work with a vengeance.

On the way back from Chicago Cassie turned the controls over to Billy, to see how he handled them. She was impressed by how good he was. He said his father had taught him at fourteen, and he had flown for ten years now. And from the way he flew, it was easy to believe him. He had sure hands, and a good eye, he flew steadily and well, and she knew her father would be pleased. Billy was going to be a great asset to the airport. And besides that, he was a nice guy, easygoing and intelligent, and very pleasant to be with. They'd had a good time that day, on the flight, trading stories.

“I noticed yesterday that you were engaged,” he mentioned conversationally on the leg home. “But I don't see the ring today. You getting married soon?”

“Nope,” she said, thinking of Bobby. “I'm not engaged anymore. Gave back the ring last night.” She wasn't sure why she was telling him, but he was there, and they were almost the same age, and she liked him. Besides, she didn't get the feeling he was interested in her. He just wanted to be friends, and that seemed comfortable and easy.

“Are you upset? Think you'll get back together?”

“Nope,” she said again, almost feeling sorry for herself now. “He's a great guy, but he hates my flying. He's in a hurry to get married, I want to finish school. I don't know… it wasn't right, never was, I just never had the guts to say it.”

“I know what that's like. I've been engaged twice, scared the hell out of me both times.”

“What did you do about it?”

“The first time I ran,” he admitted honestly with his boyish grin and his face full of freckles.

“And the last time? You got married?” Cassie looked surprised, he didn't look like someone who'd been married.

“No,” he said quietly, “she died, at the San Diego Air Show last year.” He said it very calmly but she could see the pain in his eyes.