“Social events are important, Cassie.”

“Not to me,” she smiled.

“You can't be easy to please, Miss Cassie O'Malley.

You've been out five nights a week with a different man each night for close to a year now. And no one has struck your fancy?”

“I guess not. Too busy, no time, no interest. They all bore me.” She didn't bother telling him that most of them were male models, or less than masculine actors. Not that it made a difference to her.

“You're spoiled.” He wagged a finger at her, and she laughed at him.

“If I am, it's all your fault. Look what you've done for me, apartments, clothes, all the planes I could ever want to fly, including a diamond one”- she smiled gratefully, she had written him a thank-you note only that morning-” cars… hotels… fancy restaurants… who wouldn't be spoiled after all that?”

“You,” he said simply, telling the truth, and then he pulled her to her feet and they walked further down the beach in their bare feet telling each other silly stories. They had dinner at a little Mexican restaurant near her apartment, and he told her the food was terrible, but she loved it, and then he took her home and promised to call her the next morning.

“I go to work at four,” she said, “I won't be here.”

“So do I,” he smiled, “we must both work for the same tyrant. I'll call you at three-thirty.” She was surprised when he did. He was the oddest person. And so lonely. His stories of his childhood made her heart ache. It was no wonder he had never loved anyone, no one had ever loved him. It made her want to protect him, and undo it all, and yet at the same time he was always doing things for her. He was an unusual combination of warm and cold, invulnerable, and deeply wounded.

He picked her up at the airport that afternoon, and drove her home, but he didn't come in. And from then on, he called her every day, and took her to dinner several times a week in quiet places. He never did anything more than that, and Cassie never felt they were more than friends, but within a short time they were very good ones. He had never mentioned the world tour again, but she thought of it sometimes when she flew, and all of Nick's warnings. She thought he was crazy to have been so worried. Desmond had no desire to do anything that would harm her or push her. He wanted only the best for her. She was sure of that. More than anything, he was her friend now. He turned up at the oddest times, as she climbed out of a plane, or left for work at four in the morning. He was there for her, if she needed him, he never intruded on her, or asked for more than she wanted to give. He seemed to want so little from her, and yet she always sensed his presence.

He brought her new contract to her himself at the end of June, and this time she was amazed at what she saw in it. Most of the terms were the same, except that some of the social events were optional, and the money was doubled. He promised to let her test all their best planes, and wanted her to guarantee that she would do a minimum number of commercials per year. But then the last clause in the contract was the one that stunned her. It stated that for an additional hundred and fifty thousand dollars, plus any additional fees and benefits that accrued from it, he was offering her a world tour within the year, in the best plane they had, on the safest route that could be devised, to be embarked on, on the second of July 1941, almost exactly a year from then, on the anniversary of the day Amelia Earhart disappeared four years before. It was to be the publicity tour of all time, and she would undoubtedly set new records. The prospect of it was enormously tempting, but she thought she ought to discuss it with her father. She was going home that week anyway, for the air show.

“Do you think hell disapprove?” Desmond asked her nervously before she left, looking like a boy who was terrified someone would take his favorite toy from him. And she smiled and tried to reassure him.

“I don't think so. He may think it's dangerous, but if you think it could be done safely, I believe you,” He had never lied to her, never cheated her, never fooled her. He had never disappointed her as a friend, or as an employer. And they spent a great deal of time together. Theirs was a strange relationship for a girl her age, and a man his, it was based only on business and friendship. Nothing more. He had never even tried to kiss her and yet he had wanted to know that she was free. And he had relaxed visibly when he heard she was, with the exception of Nick, who hadn't written to her in months. She knew how violently he would have disapproved of this contract. “My father is pretty reasonable,” she reassured him.

“Cassie, I've always wanted to do this. But there was never anyone who could, or whom I would have trusted, or wanted to work with. I trust you completely. And I've never seen anyone fly a plane the way you do.” She couldn't help being flattered by what he said about her.

“We'll talk about it when I get back,” she promised him. She just needed a few days to think it out, but she was very tempted, and he knew it.

“You're not flying in the air show this year, are you?” He looked worried before he left her, but she was quick to shake her head. Her life was an air show every day, and she hadn't practiced. She just hadn't had time this year, although she was looking forward to going.

“No, but my brother is. God knows why. He doesn't really like to fly, he just does it to please my father.”

“He's no different than the rest of us. I did wrestling at Princeton, because my father had. It's the most disgusting sport in the world, and I hated every minute of it, but I thought he'd be delighted. I'm not sure he ever even knew, and when I think of all the stiff necks and bloody noses I got, not to mention the bruises.” She laughed at his description of it, and she promised him she'd call him from home and tell him about the air show.

“I'll miss you when you're gone, you know. I have no one else to call at three o'clock in the morning.”

“You can call me,” she said generously. “I'll get up to talk to you, it's five o'clock there.”

“Just have fun,” he smiled at her, “and come back and sign on for the world tour. But if you don't,” he suddenly said seriously, “we'll still be friends, you know. I'd understand if you didn't want to do it.” The way he said it made her want to throw her arms around him and tell him she loved him. He was such a solitary soul, and he wanted so badly to do the right thing, and to be fair. He also wanted the world tour so desperately. She really didn't want to disappoint him.

“I'll try not to let you down, Desmond, I promise. I just need some time to think about it.” She was glad she didn't have to face Nick and listen to him erupt like a volcano.

“I understand.” He kissed her on the cheek before she left, and told her to wish her brother luck from him, and she promised she would when she saw him.

She flew home in one of Desmond's twin engine transports and wondered what her father was going to say about the world tour when she asked him. There was no doubt that it was somewhat dangerous, even without the war, and the problems in the Pacific; flying long distance like that could be disastrous if you didn't know what you were doing, or had incredibly bad luck and hit unexpected storms. Nobody had ever figured out what had happened to Amelia Earthart The disappearance had no rational explanation, except perhaps that she'd run out of fuel and gone down without a trace. It was the only sensible reason anyone could come up with. The wilder theories had their fans, but Cassie had never believed them.

But the world tour gnawed at Cassie all the way home. Dangerous or not, she was aching to do it.

14

The Peoria Air Show was the same wonderful circus that Cassie remembered it to be. She had never been happier than when she stood there with Billy and her father. Her mother and the other girls were off somewhere with the children. And Chris was pacing back and forth nervously eating hot dogs.

“You're making me sick,” Cassie scolded him, and he grinned and bought some cotton candy.

All of their old friends were there, her father's cronies, and the younger flyboys. Most of the flying fanatics from miles around had come to visit the day before, at her father's insistence. The Peoria Air Show was an important event in aviation. There were even a couple of girls this year, in one of the tamer events. And Chris was going for his usual prize for altitude in the last race of the afternoon. It wasn't much of a showstopper, but they both knew it would please their father.

“Don't you want to try something, Sis? Dad could lend you a plane.” The one she had flown east in was far too big, and far too clumsy. And also worth far too much money. And it was Desmond's. She had tested it for him right after she had gone to work for him, and they had only recently perfected her recommended changes. For a girl of twenty-one, she had a remarkably important job; everyone here knew how famous she was now and there was a lot of talk about her being there. At Desmond's suggestion, the wire services had shown up in full force to greet her.

But Cassie was quick to tell her brother she wasn't going to be in the air show. “I'm not good enough anymore. I've been flying these boats all year long, Chris. Besides, I haven't practiced.”

“Neither have I,” he said with a grin. At twenty, he looked exactly like their father. He was doing well in school, and still intent on becoming an architect, if he could get a scholarship at the University of Illinois in another year or two. And for the moment, he spent every spare waking moment with Jessie. They were adorable and Pat said he wouldn't be surprised if they got married.