Danielle Steel - Wings

“Do you know where I might find Cassie O'Malley?” he asked smoothly. He had wavy blond hair, and movie-star good looks. And suddenly, Nick wondered if someone was going to offer Cassie a movie career. This was the man he'd seen the day before at the air show, in the blazer and white trousers. And he didn't look like a reporter now. He looked like a businessman of some kind, or maybe an agent.

Nick pointed up at the sky. “She just took off on a mail run. Can I help you?”

“I'd like to talk to her. Do you know when shell be back?”

“Maybe seven or eight hours. Not before. I'd say shell be back sometime tonight. Can I give her a message?”

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.

“I'm sorry.” There was nothing else to say. They had all lost friends at air shows. And it was terrible, but worse for him if he had loved her.

“So am I. But I've learned to live with it, more or less. I haven't really gone out with anyone since, and I don't think I want to.”

“Is that a warning?” she grinned.

“Yeah,” his eyes were full of mischief, “just in case you thought you could jump me at ten thousand feet. I've been scared to death the whole trip.” The way he said it made her burst into laughter, and five minutes later they were both laughing again. By the time they got home, they were as easy with each other as old friends. As far as Cassie was concerned, there was nothing romantic about Billy Nolan, Cassie just liked him, and he was a terrific pilot. Her father had lucked out, and she thought Nick would like him too.

They landed at the airport about nine and Cassie offered him a ride to the boardinghouse where he was staying. His friends had gone back to California with their truck and their plane, and he had to save enough money to buy a car, which wouldn't be any time soon with the wages she knew her father paid. “How long do you think you'll stay?” she asked him.

“I don't know… thirty, forty years… like forever?” He grinned.

“Sure.” She laughed at his answer.

“I don't know. Awhile. I needed to get away. My mom died, and with Sally last year, I just figured I needed to get away from California. I miss my dad, but he understands.”

“Lucky for us,” she smiled warmly at him. “It was fun today. See you tomorrow.” She waved, and drove home. Her mother was home by then, and she made Cassie a sandwich. Her father was sitting in the kitchen, drinking a beer. He asked her how the flight was, and she told him how impressed she was with Billy's flying. She told him why, and Fat nodded, pleased by her report, though he'd have to see for himself. He told her to get some sleep after she'd had something to eat, and he never mentioned Desmond Williams's visit to the airport.

Classie was lying under an Electra the next day, with grease all over her face after working on the tail wheel, when she looked up and noticed an immaculate pair of white linen trousers. She couldn't help smiling as she looked at them, they looked so incongruous here, and so did the handmade spectators where the trousers ended. She looked up in curiosity, and was surprised to see an attractive blond man looking down at her with a puzzled air. She was almost unrecognizable, with her hair piled up on her head, grease all over her face, and a pair of old blue overalls that had been her father's.

“Miss O'Malley?” he asked with a frown, and she grinned. She looked like a bad joke from vaudeville as her white teeth shone in the black face, and the polished-looking man couldn't help smiling.

“Yes, I'm Miss O'Malley.” She was still lying on her back, looking up at him, and she suddenly realized she'd better get up and see what he wanted. She sprang easily to her feet, and hesitated to shake hands with him. He looked so clean and so exquisitely groomed, everything about him was perfection. She wondered if he wanted to charter a plane from them, and she was about to direct him to her father. “Can I help you?”

“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.