LITMIR.BIZ

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Adams had seen her come into the hotel bar at about nine o’clock, just in time to order dinner before the place stopped serving hot food. She had a book in her hand and took a corner booth with a hanging Tiffany lamp over the table. In her jeans and knit shirt, her usual fluffy blond hair pulled into a clip at the nape of her neck, she looked like a young girl, though he knew she must be at least in her mid-thirties.

      So, she hadn’t gone out with the crew. Probably because of Branch. The first officer wasn’t specific, but Danny got the impression he and Dixie had had some sort of misunderstanding. Tiff. Lover’s quarrel?

      At the age of thirty-eight, Danny had never been in a serious relationship. He was shy around women, which might be one explanation. Another would be height (short), weight (more than necessary), hair (very little) and general features—bland. Homely, he was homely. Each time he faced that reality, which was every morning as he shaved, he heard his mother’s voice: “Now, Danny, you are not! You’re simply average-looking, that’s all.” But Danny knew the truth—he was pretty ugly. His eyes were too small, his nose too big, no chin, large ears. His teeth were at least straight, thanks to Dr. Ward, with whom he’d spent the second Tuesday of every month for the majority of his adolescence.

      Even though he’d known Dixie McPherson for years, Danny still felt that familiar old anxiety creeping over him at the thought of striking up a conversation with her in a social setting. He was great at work, especially as the captain in charge, but after hours he was a putz, and he knew it. Especially around a woman like Dixie. She was so incredibly beautiful, so poised and confident, so unattainable.

      He was going to have to just suck it up and go to her, because he was on a mission. Picking up his glass of beer, he walked across the bar to her booth. “Dixie?” he said, looking down at her.

      She glanced up from her book. “Hey, Danny. You didn’t go out with the others?”

      “No, I’m more the quiet-evening type.”

      “I’m sure your wife appreciates that,” she said, closing her book.

      “Huh?” he answered, then laughed in amusement that she might think that. “I’m not married.”

      “You sure? I hear that a lot and it’s usually not true.”

      Without asking permission, he slid into the booth across from her. “Oh, man, do you? That’s terrible. No, I mean it—I’ve never been married. Or even engaged.” He cleared his throat. “Ah, Dixie, I owe you an apology. I had absolutely no idea Branch was going to make that PA about the mules. I told him I was going to check with you and see if you were planning to write it up. I’ll support you if you decide to. That was uncalled-for.”

      “I’m not gonna write him up,” she said.

      “He said you wouldn’t. You two must have had some kind of—Sorry, Dixie. It’s none of my business.”

      “We were seein’ each other,” Dixie told him, then suddenly realized how Branch had contrived her silence—she had been protecting him by being discreet, not the other way around. Who cared if she was dating a pilot? She was single, over twenty-one. “He said he was going through a divorce. He was lying.”

      It took Danny a moment to absorb that. His experience with the volatility of love affairs was limited to the movies. “Why do people do things like that?”

      “To get laid, Danny,” she said with a note of irritation.

      “I know, but I mean why?” Before Dixie could snap back, Orgasms, Danny, he said, “Doesn’t he know how lucky he is to have a wife, a family? Why would you threaten that? There are people in the world who would give anything to have what he has.”

      And I’m one of them, came instantly to Dixie’s mind. She was saved from comment by the arrival of her food. “Have you eaten, Danny?” she asked.

      “Yeah. A couple of hours ago.”

      “Well, have a French fry so I don’t feel self-conscious eating alone.”

      “Thanks,” he said, taking one. “I’m really sorry, Dixie. About all of it.”

      Dixie gazed at him for a long, somber moment. She remembered what she had overheard the day of that fateful flight with F.O. and Mrs. Darnell. What did she expect? She’s such a ditz. “I have to take some of the responsibility. I didn’t check him out thoroughly, and I could have. I just believed him—the old smooth-talker.” She sighed. “Sometimes I’m just a ditz.”

      He laughed outright. “You? Come on, Dixie, you were conned. It’s not your fault. You’re no ditz. I’ve worked with you a lot over the years. I know how smart you are.” He grabbed the book she had been reading. “John Adams by David McCullough. Jeez,” he laughed. “Who are you kidding?”

      “I love John and Abigail Adams. Now, they were a real couple, a team. They checked everything with each other, gave each other advice and support. And that was not the typical way of marriages back then.”

      “The last time I flew with you, you were reading The Lexus and the Olive Tree.”

      Her eyes lit up. “That’s right! We had a big discussion about it! I forgot, you’re an avid reader, too.”

      “Have to have something to do on these layovers,” he said, then instantly wished he could withdraw the remark. No point broadcasting to the world that he was always alone.

      “Do you ever get so sick of this?” she asked. “Sometimes it’s hard, boring and just plain lonely.”

      Dixie? Lonely? Not from what he’d witnessed. She always had someone to spend the night with when she was out on the road.

      “I’ve wanted to fly since I was a little kid,” he said. “It gives me a rush every time. I still can’t believe they let me check out a hundred-and-sixty-ton 767 and take it out for a spin every time I come to work. It’s the one thing in life that never lets me down. In fact, it’s one of those things that when it’s a challenge, when it’s just a little bit scary, it gets even better.” He took another French fry off her plate. “Do you remember Joe Riordan? He was at Aries briefly, about twelve years ago—when the company was still pretty young and real small. In fact, he was responsible for a lot of the growth.”

      “Sure I remember him,” she said. “But my friend Nikki knows him real well.”

      “Yeah, Nikki would’ve known him—she did something in management. Training or something. He left here for TWA, closed that one down, consulted for a couple of years, and now he’s in Las Vegas starting a new airline.”

      “Oh, so he’s certifiable?”

      Danny laughed. “Actually, it’s not as crazy as you might think. The really big companies are having a hard time getting costs down—like Aries. The odds favor a new start-up to the old dinosaurs that are bleeding millions a day. I’m thinking of calling him. I’d love to get in on the ground floor of something new.”

      She almost choked. “Danny! Are you crazy? You were in on the ground floor of this company.”

      “Sort of. The company was a few years old, but we only had three jets. But, God, it was fun. We were a bunch of kids and scabs and crop dusters and ex-patriots…. We did anything we were told. We swept up, dispatched, hauled trash, washed planes, cleaned up the cabin after every flight. And every single one of us would have paid Aries to fly their planes. Now? Hardly anyone is happy. They complain constantly. They’d turn their backs on Aries in a second. I have a feeling this company isn’t going to make it.”

      “But you’d start over? At your age? That’s a pretty big risk….”

      “There’s only me,” he said, shrugging. “If I had a family to worry about, I might be more cautious…. Butthere’s only me. And I want to be in a place where I’m having a great time. Like I had when this outfit started.”

      Five

      Carlisle

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