Wings

“I did. But the Merlin engine was disappointing here. It still didn't give us what we wanted out of this plane. We have to try something else. But I've got some ideas I want to kick around with the design team tomorrow. The plane was pulling to port on takeoff too, which is a real problem.” She always thought of his planes, and the problems they needed to conquer. At night she dreamed of them, and by day she pressed them to their limits. And as he glanced at her, he was more impressed than ever with what he was hearing. She was a gold mine.

“Sounds like you need a break.” He smiled at her, as she pushed her hair out of her eyes and smoothed her uniform. She still longed for her overalls sometimes, and the old days of never caring how she looked when she flew. To Cassie, it didn't matter. “How about dinner tonight?”

She was surprised at the invitation, and wondered if he had something on his mind. Maybe he was unhappy with her. He had never invited her out before, and their dealings with each other had been strictly business.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Williams?” She looked worried and he laughed at the question. She wondered if maybe he was firing her, and he shook his head and looked at her in amusement.

“The only thing wrong is that you work too hard, and have absolutely no idea what a miracle you are. Of course nothing's wrong. I just thought it might be nice to have dinner.”

“Sure,” she said shyly, wondering what it would be like to have dinner with him. He was so handsome and so perfect and so smart, and so rich, that he scared her. Nancy always said what good company he was, and how pleasant, and she seemed to know him well. But he still frightened Cassie more than a little.

“What do you like? French? Italian? There are some wonderful restaurants in Los Angeles. I imagine you've been to them all by now.”

“Yes, I have.” She looked him right in the eye, overcoming her shyness for a moment. “And I wish I hadn't.”

“So I hear.” He smiled at her. “I understand you've been chafing at your social schedule.” He looked almost fatherly for an instant, despite his age, and Cassie could see why Nancy liked him.

“That's putting it mildly. I just don't see why I have to go out every night if I'm going to fly for you at four o'clock the next morning.”

“Maybe you should get a later start.” He said practically, but she groaned in answer.

“That's what Nancy said. But flying is the important part. Going out doesn't matter.”

He stopped walking with her then, and looked down at her, and she was totally surprised to realize how much taller he was. In more ways than one, he was a man of great stature. “It's all important, Cassie. All of it. Not just the flying. But the going out too. Look what the papers say about you… what the public thinks now… how much they love you… Look how much that means, how much access that gives you to them, how much weight you carry with the public after only a month here. They want to know what you eat, what you read, what you think. Don't ever underestimate that. It's the power of the American public.”

“I don't get it,” she said, looking like a kid, and he smiled at her. He already knew her better than that. He had an uncanny sense about people.

“Yes, you do,” be said quietly. “You just don't want to. You want to play the game on your terms. But you'll get a lot more out of it in the end, if you play my way. Trust me.”

“Having dinner at the Cocoanut Grove, or Mocambo, isn't going to make me a better flier.”

“No, but it will make you exciting… glamorous… someone people want to know more about. It will make them listen to you, and once they're listening, you can tell them anything you want to.”

“And if I'm asleep at home in bed, they won't listen?” She grinned, but she had gotten his point, and she was intrigued by it, and he knew it.

“All they'll hear then, Miss O'Malley, is you snoring.”

She laughed at him, and he left her at the hangar a few minutes later. He had promised to pick her up at seven o'clock, and said he would tell her later where they were going.

She told Nancy who she was having dinner with when she got home, but she had already heard from Miss Fitzpatrick what her dinner plans were. There were no secrets at Williams Aircraft. And she suspected where he would take her, probably Perino's. Nancy helped her pick out a particularly sophisticated dress, and assured Cassie that it was just the sort of thing he really liked.

“Why do you think he wants to have dinner with me?” Cassie asked worriedly. She was still wondering if he was secretly displeased with her about something. Maybe he really was annoyed that she complained about going out at night, and wanted to scold her.