Wings

“I think he wants to take you out because you're so ugly,” Nancy teased. She had begun treating Cassie like her daughter. In some ways, Cassie was still a child, not unlike Janie. In fact, Jane and Cassie had hit it off splendidly on the two occasions Nancy had invited her to dinner. She would have invited her more frequently, but Cassie never had time for a private evening. “Now go wash your face and stop worrying. He's a perfect gentleman,” He always was, no matter what he wanted, business or pleasure. Desmond Williams had a brilliant mind and impeccable manners. What he did not have was a heart, or at least, that was what women said. If he did, no one had found it yet. But Nancy knew it was not Cassie's heart Desmond wanted. He wanted her loyalty, and her life, her mind, her judgment about planes, and her courage. It was what he wanted from everyone. He wanted everything, except what was really important. And in return, he would take care of her, in the ways he understood, with contracts and money.

Cassie was ready right on time, and he appeared downstairs in a brand-new Packard. He was a man who liked machines, and he had bought every exciting car there was to own, at one time or another. The Zephyr she'd seen him in back home had already been shipped to California.

She was wearing a slinky black dress Nancy had picked out for her, and black silk stockings and black satin platform shoes that made her look even taller. But he was still taller than she was, and her figure looked fabulous in the black dress. Her hair was piled high on her head in loose curls, and in the month since she'd been in LA she had learned to do her makeup to perfection.

“Wow! If I do say so myself,” Desmond beamed at her, as they headed toward the city, “that's quite an outfit.”

“I was going to wear my overalls,” she grinned mischievously, “but Nancy sent them to the cleaners.”

“I can't say I'm disappointed,” he teased back. They chatted easily all the way into town, about a new plane she knew he was designing. There were questions she had about the fuselage, and her queries about the design, as usual, impressed him deeply.

“How did you ever get to know so much about planes, Cass?”

“I just love them a lot. You know, like dolls, for some kids. I've just played with planes all my life. I put my first engine back together when I was nine. I've been doing it since I was a little kid. My father put me to work when I was five, but then he had a fit when I learned to fly. Engines were okay, but flying was for guys, not for women.”

“It's hard to believe.” He looked amused. To him, it sounded like the dark ages.

“I know.” She grinned, thinking fondly of her father. “He's an adorable old dinosaur and I love him. He threw your card away that day, you know. The first time you came to the airport.”

“I thought he'd do something like that, he and his partner. That's why I came back.” He glanced over at her as they reached LA “I'm glad I did. When I think what I would have missed. What this country would have lost. It would have been a tragedy.” He made it sound very dramatic, and she laughed. What he said was very frightening, but it always sounded like nonsense to Cassie. She knew her own worth, or she thought she did. She was a pretty good pilot, but she wasn't the oracle he pretended she was, or the genius… or the beauty… but Americans were already beginning to know different. They agreed with Desmond Williams.

“Where are we going tonight?” she asked with mild curiosity. She recognized the neighborhood, but hadn't guessed what restaurant. He told her they were going to the Trocadero.

And when they stepped inside, she saw instantly how glamorous it was, and how luxurious. The lights were dim, and the band was playing a rumba.

“You haven't been here yet, Cassie, have you?”

She shook her head, visibly impressed by her surroundings, and by being there with him. She was twenty years old, and she had never seen anything like that. “No, sir,” she said, and he leaned closer to her and touched her arm.

“You could call me Desmond.” He smiled at her, and she blushed. It was odd being so friendly with him. He was so important, he was her boss, and he was so much older.

“Yes, sir… I mean, Desmond…” She was still blushing in the darkness as they were led to an important table.