by Robyn Carr
That made her laugh all the more. She had always known Danny was a nice guy, but she had no idea he could be so much fun. So entertaining. She moved toward him and had to lean down a little to kiss his cheek. “Thanks. Don’t work too hard, now.”
As she headed toward her car, Danny retreated just a bit more into the shadows. He didn’t want her to see how deeply he was blushing.
It was 9:00 p.m. and Sam didn’t really expect Nikki to be in the office. He wanted to slip a note under her door explaining that he’d made a mistake reporting his flying hours. He’d been off by several hundred, but it shouldn’t make too much difference, since he had thousands. Still, he wanted to be precise in all the paperwork that was kept on file.
Her light was on, the door open, so he leaned into the frame and tapped lightly a couple of times. He stopped himself. Her head was down on her desk. “Captain?” he asked quietly. She didn’t move. Her hair fell in soft curls over her left arm.
He looked down the hall toward Riddle’s office. All was dark at that end of the hall. In fact, only a faint light shone from around the corner in the opposite direction. This was probably not the best idea, sleeping on one’s desk late at night in a mostly abandoned office building.
Her back rose and fell gently. She was probably dead on her feet. And she had said something in class about getting her kids settled in her new home before taking off to Phoenix for simulator training at Aries, her old stomping ground.
He went into her office and sat in the chair across from her desk. Now, this, he knew, was presumptuous. It might even piss her off, but he wasn’t going to leave her alone in her office, asleep, vulnerable. And he’d wake her in a minute, but first he wanted to just sit here with her. While she was quiet.
Nikki was always on the move. She didn’t look anything like Sam’s late wife, but she had some of the same qualities—energy, a ready smile, intelligence, a quick wit. And like Leanne, when the energy ran out, she’d just conk out. Wham.
Leanne had been tall, dark and lean. Nikki was small, compact, fair and freckled. He wasn’t sure of her age, somewhere around forty, he guessed. But she had such a girl-next-door look about her that she’d be one of those women who never seemed to age. Sometimes it was hard to concentrate on the material she was teaching in their training sessions. He was so easily taken by the way her green eyes danced in humor or snapped in quick response to a question.
Nikki Burgess was something of a legend. She’d been raised around aircraft of all kinds and had been a pilot since she was a young girl. An accomplished racer, she was also an engineer with a degree in aeronautics. And then there was that hard-won reputation—he’d heard she could fly the hell out of an airplane, a compliment that came grudgingly from the men who’d issued it.
It startled him to realize he hadn’t had thoughts of any kind about a woman since Leanne’s death. In fact, it threw him so off guard that he got up out of the chair and gently touched Nikki’s shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly. “Nick. Wake up.”
She stirred slowly, sitting up, blinking. She wiped her mouth and looked at her watch, then at the crew schedule spread out on her desk. “Damn. Sam.”
He stood in front of her desk, and when she looked up at him, he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“What? Did I drool?” she asked.
“Not exactly. You have a cheek full of schedule.”
She dug under her desk for her purse, found a mirror inside and checked it out for herself. “Great,” she said, rubbing at the offending imprint. It was not going to come off easily.
“You’ve been asleep awhile.”
“I must have hit the wall,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “It could have waited, but I had been studying and was restless. I thought I’d slip a note under your door—a correction on my hours.” He pulled the paper out of his pocket and put it on her desk. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, Nikki.”
She looked at the page, the number of hours. “This is okay, Sam. There would only be an issue if you were close to the minimum. But thanks…”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean, it’s kind of late. Almost everyone is gone. You’re practically alone.”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “How ‘guy’ of you. We have security.”
“Yeah, but—” He was going to say that there was enough security if she was awake, but sound asleep on her desk was another matter. “Okay, let’s go have some pie.”
“Pie?”
“Yeah. Right over at Appleby’s. A cup of coffee, piece of pie, and then you’ll be right to drive home.”
“That does sound kind of good….”
He scratched at his own cheek. “You, ah, think that’ll come off? Or maybe you could lay your other cheek on the page so you’ll match.”
Training had been clipping along at a nice pace, but today on her lunch break, Nikki was besieged by people in need. Everyone had learned that she’d be in class from eight to noon and would take a one-hour break in her office to return calls, sign letters and throw a deli sandwich, thoughtfully provided by Dixie, into her mouth.
Crue was waiting with a rough draft schedule for crews, along with some questions about seniority and how many reserve crews Nikki thought necessary in the first month of operation. There was also a guy from Rolls-Royce with the Wrench, who had been chasing her for days to talk about an engine replacement on one of the planes. She looked at her watch—she was more than an hour late for class.
“I am so sorry,” she said when she finally flew into the room. “It’s the downside of being predictable. Everyone knew where to find me on my lunch break—and everyone did, I think.” She put her books down on the table at the front of the room and took a breath. Then she looked at the pilots. There were barely concealed sniggers, some red faces, a couple of uncomfortable coughs. “Did I tuck my skirt in my girdle?” she asked.
Chuckles. She looked down at herself, making sure she didn’t have toilet paper stuck to her shoe.
“All right,” she said. “You’re all looking very guilty. Have you been dipping braids in inkwells? What’s going on?”
No one responded, so she focused on Bob Riddle. He shrugged.
Sam Landon eased himself away from his study table and went to the back of the room. He pulled some poster-size sketches from the trash can and held them up for Nikki to see. The attempt at pilot uniforms. He shuffled them, putting the turquoise spandex ensemble on top. There were some whoops and claps.
“Oh,” she chuckled. “You like that one, huh? Want me to make a recommendation on behalf of this group?”
“It was suggested that this is the kind of stuff you get when you have a woman for a chief pilot,” Sam said.
“Is that right?” she asked. She looked right at Bob.
“I told them all I’d never make them dress like that,” he said, feigning innocence.
“And did you also tell them that I threw myself on those land mines at the risk of being pummeled to death by a roomful of transvestite dress designers?” There were a few chuckles, a couple of pointed and questioning looks at Bob, but Nikki didn’t indulge any more speculation. She knew what had gone on. If Bob hadn’t actually dug up and planted the sketches, he’d at least jumped on the opportunity to paint himself in a better light while doing what he could to damage her credibility. “Girl chief pilot, huh? Don’t kid yourselves. Let’s get right into chapter nine, the hydraulic system.”
Twelve
Nikki had been looking forward to and dreading this day for weeks. She longed to get out of the suites inn, but she shuddered to think what it was going to take to settle into her new house. It would easily require three trips with a full SUV to empty out the two-room suite she and the kids had shared. She’d filled up every nook and cranny with weekend acquisitions.
Then there was the truck from her dad’s place in Phoenix. A relatively small load, true, because she was leaving the three bedrooms of furniture there for herself and the kids when th
ey visited. Visited? Hah! She hadn’t taken a full day off since arriving in Las Vegas! And when she bought bedroom furniture for the new house, she’d furnished a room for Buck, as well, since his weekend visits would no doubt continue to be regular.
Furniture was also arriving for the family room, dining room and kitchen, and had been purchased from three different stores. Then there was Carlisle’s U-Haul. Some of his furnishings would be moved into his new casita, and the rest he would put in long-term storage until he decided to strike out on his own again. He was driving everyone crazy with his concern over using that truck as storage for the past ten days. He was convinced his belongings would be stolen or damaged or maybe even bored to death, sitting in an RV rental park, waiting for the big day.
Nikki was going to have to buy cleaning supplies, groceries, pool chemicals and make those inevitable trips to Home Depot. And she wasn’t exactly talented in this arena. But that was all right—Carlisle would be there, bossing everyone around. She had already decided that if they just did what Carlisle told them to do, everything would be fine.
Fortunately, the October weather was decent—temperature in the seventies, dry, pleasant, not too windy. Whoever had named Chicago the windy city hadn’t been to Las Vegas. You could always tell the new residents by their lightweight lawn furniture and picnic umbrellas blowing down the street.
No prodding was necessary to get the kids going that morning; if anyone was more sick of the suites inn than Nikki, they were. The kids were determined to get everything thrown into their new rooms in time to use the pool. Carlisle had already made an early getaway with Dixie in tow.
Nikki had signed her life away for this house—far more house than she had ever aspired to. That Riordan better make this airline work, she thought. And the little voice that bounced back said, Isn’t that why he hired you, Captain Burgess?
Her new neighborhood was crowded for an early Saturday morning. She spotted the U-Haul and several vehicles lined up around her house. It looked as though more than one family was moving. Then, to her astonishment, she saw that Dixie and Carlisle were standing in the drive, talking to a group of men—men she had not expected to see. They were holding court around a very large white cooler. Danny and Eric and three of their new pilots, Sam Landon, Ken Spencer and Jeff Hayden.
“So, boss,” Sam said with a grin. “We heard it was moving day.”
There was beer, sodas, water and juice in the cooler. With so many able hands to pitch in, Nikki no longer had to worry about Buck and Carlisle having to haul the heavier loads on their own. There were also errand runners galore—Danny took Dixie to fetch her car and check out of the suites inn, Jeff and Ken made a Home Depot run and returned with the requisite picture hangers, chair coasters, dryer-vent tubing and a few other incidentals. Sam picked up lunch at the sub shop, and later, while Nikki shopped for her cleaning supplies and groceries, the rest of the moving crew were back at the house doing as they were told by Carlisle.
Because of the size of the team, by six, the house was habitable. Beds were put together and made up. Shelf paper had been laid down and kitchen cupboards filled. The washer and dryer were installed and the computer hooked up. The phone company had been out, and the security alarm—new to Nikki and the kids—had been accidentally set off at least three times.
As evening came, the lights of the city glittered in the distance. There was nothing in the world like the view from their patio. The illuminated resorts actually glowed in the center of the valley—black, gold, bright emerald-green, red and purple. The beam from the top of the Luxor pyramid shot into the sky, while incoming planes lined up over the mountains like beacons, headed straight down the center of town to land right at the edge of the Las Vegas Strip.
Eric and Danny had taken off in late afternoon. Dixie was helping Carlisle settle in his casita, while Nikki and her pilots pulled out cold beers and sodas from the cooler. In the absence of patio furniture, they dragged dining room chairs outside. But for now this was perfect—Jared splashing around in the pool, the sound of April’s radio from her bedroom window, Buck tinkering around with something or other in the garage, and here in the back, above the lights of the beautiful city, Nikki and her friends.
She had never dared envision this life.
“Well, boss, I think we have you fixed up pretty good,” Sam said.
“I’m not used to that…Being called ‘boss’ all the time.”
“I think you like it,” he said.
“Yeah, she doesn’t have any quelms about it,” Ken said, drawing laughter from them all.
“She has a real profencity for it,” said Jeff.
Nikki just smiled. She wanted to laugh with them, but she had to remember her position. And pilots talked. Theirs were some of the loosest lips in recorded history. But she was glad, relieved in fact, that they had noticed Riddle’s funny vocabulary. It meant that there was a good chance other things about him might be noticed. Like the fact that he didn’t appear to be doing any work.
“She’s not laughing, guys.”
“She can’t laugh. She works for him.”
Nikki’s smile just grew a bit wider, but still she said nothing.
“That right, boss?”
“Have you seen the company’s organizational chart?” Nikki queried. “The chief pilot works under the VP of Operations who works under the president.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said. “And laughing at him could create a whole madrid of problems.”
By now the men were laughing so hard that Nikki couldn’t help but give in to a snigger or two.
“As great as it would be to hang around and drink myself stupid with you guys, I have to study,” Sam said at last.
“You haven’t had anything but Diet Coke all day,” Ken said.
“I can’t afford to,” Sam said. “I haven’t flown in two years. I have to study.”
“Yeah, all right,” Ken relented. “Come on, Jeff. We probably could get a little smarter, too.”
“Surely not much,” Nikki said, then had to listen to their protests. She stood to see them to the door. “Listen, it was really smart of you guys to come over here and help me move in. Now when I’m looking for management people, I’ll be influenced.”
“Well, that was easy,” Jeff said.
“I do appreciate it.”
Within a few days of moving into her new house, Nikki was headed back to Phoenix for simulator training. Not all airlines had simulators for pilot training, but Aries had three 757/767 sims and leased time to other airlines. In such a harsh economic environment, the simulators were better moneymakers than the planes.
She’d only been gone for six weeks, so it wasn’t exactly like a reunion, but she did find that many of the pilots she’d flown with over the years were seeking her out between simulator sessions to ask about the new operation.
But for Riddle, who was there, too, it was like a victory lap. “Yes, I’m spearheading the certification process, and I must say, I’ve assembled an exemplatory team.”
Nikki winced visibly when she heard him tell that to a couple of Aries pilots and his simulator instructor.
As the chief pilot, she’d worked with the training department to set up the sim schedule, and even though Riddle was number one on the seniority list and Nikki was number two, she arranged that they would not go into the box together. She was afraid she’d have to carry him the whole time, and twice as afraid that if he had serious problems, he’d somehow manage to blame her. So she had Danny take him, and Nikki paired up with tall, quiet Eric from Texas.
Also in Phoenix was a third of the first class—ten pilots. They stayed at a downtown Tempe hotel, right on the university campus, close to the airport. Nikki could have stayed at Buck’s—it would have been close, familiar and free, and would save NCA a few dollars—but she thought it best to stay with her group and, if possible, continue the bonding.
In addition to regular sim training, Nikki, Danny and Bob were being given an extra two-day cour
se that would qualify them as check airmen at the start of operation. That way they wouldn’t have to go through the twenty-five hours of Initial Operating Experience with a check airman that would be required of the other pilots. The three of them could then provide the training of the other check airmen during proving flights with the FAA.
Nikki said nothing. This was what Riddle wanted, and it was his prerogative, being the boss and a pilot. But the facts were simple—he’d had trouble flying as a first officer at Aries. He wasn’t check airman material. He wasn’t even captain material.
That aside, they hoped to get at least six check airmen out of their initial group of thirty pilots. Nikki would take recommendations from Bob, Danny and Eric, but the decision was ultimately hers.
For a week they worked like dogs, taking four-hour sessions in the box with a one-hour briefing on each side of that. The FAA inspectors were all over them; they wouldn’t let anything slide by. It wasn’t just the standard operating procedures that were being thrown at them, but the most challenging problems—engine fires, clear air turbulence, loss of hydraulics, rapid fuel leaks, sudden cabin decompression and, literally, the cause of every fatal aircraft accident known to the FAA. The simulator, a cockpit inside a box that stood up on four hydraulic legs, rocked like a carnival ride while the pilots inside struggled to manage every possible flying situation. They would frequently come out soaking wet.
But they all did pretty well. Almost all.
Nikki found Danny in the hotel coffee shop at 6:00 a.m. He was just returning to the hotel after a sim session that took place in the middle of the night, while Nikki was getting ready for hers. He sat in a corner booth nursing a cup of coffee. “That’s gonna keep you awake,” she said.
“This isn’t what’s going to keep me awake,” he said. “Riddle can’t do it, Nick. Forget check airman, the FAA isn’t going to sign him off as captain.”
Thank God, she thought in utter relief. She was afraid that by some miracle he’d make it and the FAA would pass him.
