* * *
Ally set her helicopter down, snug in the parking lane for Avatat aircraft awaiting fuel. KC had landed just minutes ahead of her and had already pulled her main blades clear and attached the safety line. It wasn’t a difficult place to land unless the seaplanes were out of the hangar. They were tall enough that KC or Ally needed to land on the far side of the apron to be sure their blades remained clear. Other than a few private Cessnas and a Beech Baron, the apron was relatively clear this morning. Good. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with an over-full apron or cantankerous fuelers who didn’t like to drive the three hundred yards to the auxiliary parking area. She couldn’t help but feel a bit cantankerous herself. For the amount they spent on fuel every month, they should have gold-plated parking spots. Not this bullshit of having to take whatever spot was left.
Ally reminded herself that would change, along with a whole lot of other junk, once they formally announced their takeover of Triangle Airlines. Triangle had been named for the Golden Triangle, a flight route dubbed “Made of Gold” by the one-time Crown Corporation, Air Canada. The route, Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal, was the one true moneymaker in the country from year to year, season to season, but no airline before Triangle had been able to compete against Air Canada and make it profitable. Triangle was close, but it too was hemorrhaging cash, unable to compete against the goliath. Both KC and Ally knew the history of the route and could name all the airlines which had fallen at the feet of the endless deep pockets of Air Canada. But they had a plan, one that old Mr. Pringle agreed had a real shot at success. They both agreed the golden triangle still had lots of gold to offer everyone, but competing with a competitor with deeper pockets was always a losing proposition.
“What’s your strategy?” Pringle had asked during their one and only meeting.
“Simple. If we can’t compete on their fare-scale, we don’t.” His brows raised skeptically, but she didn’t back down. “Triangle has one and only one advantage. Location and equipment. We can go places a Boeing 737, which is what AC operates on this route, can’t go. So, passengers can go to Pearson or Trudeau or now Kennedy, spend two hours jumping through security hoops and waiting in line after line or they can make a faster trip to a muni like Billy Bishop Airport. Spend ten minutes going through the exact same security measures, then walk fifty feet and board our sleek and modern turbo-props. Our dash-eights can operate at the same speed as any aircraft flying the same routes and they’re the same size and have the same passenger configuration as the regional jets.”
“So, you’re saying what? Triangle is better?”
“No sir, just more civilized. Why spend an hour driving to Pearson? Pay a limo or pay for parking, then spend ninety minutes clearing security, only to have to wait in line for a ten-dollar cup of Tim Horton’s coffee only to guzzle it down at a crowded gate so you can board an overfull aircraft? If it’s for the loyalty points, are they worth that much effort? What if we could offer a loyalty alternative, and sell civilized? First, there is always an up-and-coming airline intent on competing with Air Canada. We’ve seen a lot come and go. Ward Air figured out the don’t compete to compete thing but way too late to make it work. Canada 2000 never got it and Canadian Airlines was run by a bunch of ex-American Airlines guys who didn’t have a clue what it means to operate aircraft in a country as rugged and stretched out as this. Now the new guys, they’re running with this ‘We are owners too’ campaign. You know, where a flight attendant chases a business class passenger around the globe to return his forgotten credit card? A little sexist for me, but the one where the male flight attendant follows a family to return a lost stuffed bear did better. The point they are building on is that while AC may offer loyalty points, they offer loyalty. And it’s working for the new guys and I think we can make the same ideology pay for us, the idea being that we are loyal to our passengers above all else.”
“Did you know, back in the day, Pan Am would have the fight attendants memorize the passenger list to be sure they could offer personalized service?”
“Yes sir, I do. I know the volume is too great to ask something like that, but the technology has changed too. There is no reason why in-flight crews can’t call on that information, especially with our frequent flyers.”
“Hmm…” He looked to be in deep thought, finally admitting, “We tried something like that. The cost to bring it from the table to fruition proved to be prohibitive.”
“I suspect so. Even a few years ago, the cost to develop systems that could connect or communicate would have been a no-go. Today, we can have an app—meaning, a mobile program inflight crews could access on their cell phones that would use the closed gate file as the application upload which would automatically search the loyalty database for the records of checked-in passengers. This would take seconds and happen seamlessly when the boarding closed, as soon as the station attendant submits the closed aircraft loading report. On the aircraft, the purser would get the passenger loading report, but the app would organize it, so she would know who the loyalty passengers were and where they’re seated, and she would have access to a list of each returning passenger’s preferences. Next, we’ll replace Air Commissary with something more enticing.”
“Not many choices for commissary out there,” he said, looking more amused than skeptical. “Especially if you need them to drive down from Pearson every day.”
KC just shook her head, grinning as Ally explained, “Mr. Pringle, why bother trying to beg some overpriced commissary company to do us the favor of stopping by every other day when we can give our passengers exactly what they want? They want Tim Horton’s or Starbucks, and they would much prefer a freshly baked cheese croissant or giant cranberry muffin. And before you ask, yes, we have approached them, and because of our location, they don’t see a problem. As a matter of fact, if we give Tim Horton’s the contract they are willing to place a kiosk-style servery in the check-in lounge and bake all our orders fresh on the spot. We’re just waiting on word from the Harbor Commission to tell us if it would violate the contract they have with the restaurant downfield.”
That had been five months ago, and now Ally and KC were excited to announce the change of ownership next month, as was old man Pringle. Ally dropped her helmet on the nav table and pulled out a chair from the other desk, plopping herself down.
“Holy crap on a cracker, Bat Girl!” KC teased, “Who pissed in your porridge?”
“How much will that cost you?” Ally asked, pointing her head toward the swear jar.
“I’ve already hit my limit for the week. I tell ya, that kid of yours is making me work my butt off.”
“Connie is hardly a kid and certainly not mine, but I hear ya. I’ll have a word when I get back.”
“You most certainly will not!” KC ordered before her grin gave away the game. “I can’t help it. Those women are hot, hot, hot. So are the crew. Did you check out the assistant director Connie had supervising the air shoot? Where was Connie? Oh yeah, I asked her out.”
KC was always like that. All over the board with her conversation. Usually, Ally could follow. Hell, most of the time she was way ahead of where KC’s brain was going but not so much today. “You asked out Connie? Are you…”
“Hell no. I asked out the assistant director. Her name is Kip, or Dip, or something like that. You can find out exactly what, right? Anyway, I asked her out and she’s all excited. Cool huh? Oops, I shouldn’t be bragging when you’re licking your wounds. Sorry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The ceremony last night. Kip, or Skip, or whatever, said you got the brush past and by your last choice, or was she your first choice? I don’t know what your strategy was but…holy fuck! You like her! And she gave you the cold shoulder for old perfect Pammy. Yikes.”
“That’s not what happened.”
KC gave her a stare that would do any tween proud.
“Okay, it was like that, but I think it may have been planned. I’m not sure. Maybe I’m
making it up in my head.”
“Was she with Pam’s group today? I mean, how did she act? Was she all huffy-puffy with you or weirded out? Most chicks would just pretend you weren’t there. I mean that’s what I would expect from one of those stuck-up gold diggers.”
Ally knew KC was just trying to help in her special way. “They’re not all gold diggers. At least I didn’t think so. Anyway, I don’t know how I’m supposed to pick up on a woman’s interest when you only get to spend a few minutes with them at any time.”
“A few minutes? Bring ’em in here, and I’ll have them all sussed in ten seconds flat.”
“Yeah, yeah, speed dater. I bow to your superior skills with women. I, on the other hand, continue to be a slow learner.”
KC pulled out another chair, taking a seat with uncharacteristic humility. “You’ve got a good heart, partner. If the bitches can’t see that, they don’t deserve you. Fuck it. Let Pam take the show and propose to one of them. You know she’ll never make that walk down the aisle. It’s not in her.”
“She thinks it is. She has Connie convinced she’ll meet the right woman, fall deeply in love, and walk her down the aisle. She even signed a contract giving Connie’s production company first option at televising the wedding.”
“Our Pammy agreed to get married on TV? What’s next? Maybe she wants to run for governor, mayor, judge or dogcatcher. I know they all need to get elected down there. Could this whole push for the perfect-looking relationship be more about her ambition than some sudden need to find companionship?”
It was the first thing anyone said that made sense. “Pam has a luncheon booked on Friday at RMI. She’s tight-lipped, but she did ask me if it would be better to book you to fly her in or take a limo. She was dead insistent that she not be a minute late or too early either.”
KC stood, and moving to the board, grabbed a clipboard and tossed it to Ally. “Here you go. A one-way charter, one passenger only, from Glendennon Castle to the Island airport. She actually asked if I could get permission to use the landing pad next door to RMI. Can you believe it?”
“Next door to the Royal Military Institute?” Discounting the hospital landing pads on that stretch of University Avenue, it took Ally to second to sort out what that left. “You mean the US Consulate?”
Laughing at the gall of her partner’s cousin, KC rehung the charter clipboard back in place and returned to her seat. “If she’s trying to make a big impression by taking lunch at an institute as elite as the Empire Club, then she must be meeting some heavy hitters. Can she practice law here?”
“Sure. Pam must have taken the bar in three different states and two provinces.”
KC snorted. “I’m surprised she didn’t write the Quebec bar too. That has to be the all-time challenge.”
“You’d think, but they practice French civil law, not what the rest of us have derived from English common law. Besides, her French sucks worse than mine.”
“Finally! Something you have over her. Let’s build a list of all the things you’re better at…”
“KC! Eyes on the prize, girl. Let’s figure out what she’s up to first.”
“I think it’s simple. Pam’s ready to move up, and in Chicago she’s already a senior partner with a large firm. Unless she runs for Justice, or a judgeship, whatever they call it, it looks like Pam’s finally hit a ceiling she can’t break through. But if she comes home, especially if she’s looking all settled and such, she could take the top post with any firm, start her own, or if she’s got the right connections—and I’m sure your grandpa does if she doesn’t—why not move straight to the bench? There’s no election stuff to worry about, and some would look at her as untainted by her past cases or relationship to attorneys in her courtroom.”
Ally was so bowled over by her logic she was left without comment. She took a minute to work her own ideas through KC’s well-spun good sense, finding she couldn’t argue with or add to a single point. “My aunt and uncle just announced their retirement and they bought a condo up here. They said they wanted to spend more time with Connie. With them leaving Chicago…”
“Pam’s all alone, so she either wants a wife to keep her warm on those cold Lake Michigan nights or a job up here that’s as good or better than what she has there—that would make sense.”
“I don’t know, KC. It would be really hard to find anything better, especially better paying up here. She didn’t pick Chicago just because her parents were there. Pam is serious about the money.”
“Show me the money…Show me the money!”
Ally groaned. “Come on, I’m serious here, Cuba junior.”
“I know, and so am I, but you’re forgetting a big thing here. Pam doesn’t need the money. She’s got what she’s earned from her practice, she’s got her trust fund, and isn’t Gramps going to hand you each a great big piece of the family fortune next year?” When Ally concurred, KC pushed on, adding, “All that’s left for Pam is about how she’s perceived. Being named to the provincial or federal bench, or whatever you call it, or chairing a Royal Commission, that would be a feather she can’t get down south.”
“I can’t fight your logic.”
“But you’re still not talking. Why won’t you tell me about it?”
“It’s not you. It’s this whole thing. How the hell do I tell if someone is interested in me?”
“Oh, dude. You got it all backward. All you have to do is decide which ones you like. Do you like any of them?”
“The woman helming my sailboat yesterday put the moves on me.”
“There you go. And what did you think of her?” Ally’s face looked like she had just sampled the worst vegetable in the world. “Okay. That’s good. Strike her off the list. Let’s go through the women still competing for you. Anyone in the group who interests you?”
Pursing her lips, Ally contemplated her choices. “There’s a woman from Virginia who seems nice.”
“Nice? Holy scooter-booters, Al. You’re not shopping for nice. You should be looking for hot, smart, like-minded, monkey sex-capable women, not—”
“Monkey sex? That’s your fall-back position.”
“What’s wrong with having a woman knock your socks off in bed and refute your hypothesis? All I mean is, you’re the complete package. Why aren’t you demanding the same or at least someone who gets what a prize you are? I know Pam likes to make like she’s the only one worth looking at, but that’s her ego talking. Really, Al. You have no excuse for playin’ the wallflower.”
Ally knew her face looked a little pissy but KC was right. She had bought into her cousin’s story that she was second best. Maybe, compared to Pam, she didn’t turn many heads. Who would? But that didn’t mean she couldn’t stand on her own. She was a damn fine pilot, an accomplishment in itself, and she and KC ran a tight and profitable ship. They weren’t making millions, but they were making money, which was a lot more than most people in aviation could say. “What would you do?”
“Me? Hmm… I would start by laying down a little KC charm on the ladies, then I’d be myself and see just who could have fun with me. Remember this, Ally. You’re the prize at the end of the rainbow. Let them work a bit. As for the one that got away, well I’d be nice, but I sure would let her see just how much fun I was having without her.”
“You are a devious woman,” Ally said, but she was smiling again. “Okay. I’m going to head out. You want the Huey?”
“Naw. I told that PA to load all their stuff in her. I’ve got the 206 rigged perfectly for the traffic report.”
“They’re still here? I thought they got off at Casino Niagara.”
“Naw,” KC offered, grabbing a Company Flight Plan form and completing it for Allyson. “You’re stuck flying them back. I told them to wait in the lounge while Buddy got their stuff loaded.”
Ally knew she was speaking of the new ground attendant, the same one who had sheared the nose gear off one of their Dash 8’s. “You trust him?”
KC nodded, handing the
form to Ally to check and sign. “He’s smart, knows his way around the Cessnas. He just needs a little training, and I’ve been working on that.”
“Wow. Nice. Listen, thanks so much. You didn’t have to take up all the slack. I want you to know I appreciate it.”
“Well, I’ll appreciate it when you do me the favor of walking some nice girl down the aisle. That and puttin’ a good word in for me with the first assistant director. How about it?”
Ally just smiled at her friend. “You, buddy, are brilliant and relentless. Yes, I’ll gab you up all the way back.”
“Hey, not too much talk! Don’t wanna to scare her off too fast. Besides,” KC added, playing the goof and leaning her head on Ally’s shoulder, “you forgot to mention my eyes.”
Chapter Ten
When Erin awoke, she couldn’t remember how much champagne she had polished off. The whole group had taken to the casino and the level of service as if they were born to it. Some speculated on whether the day-to-day life of Pamela would be as exciting, much less flamboyant. They had enjoyed a VIP tour, dinner in the private dining room, and access to the VIP lounge after the show where the talent was enjoying themselves, and spent time discussing TV and reality TV and all that is showbiz. Pam had lost interest in not being the center of attention and pulled the group back onto the gaming floor.
The earlier private class on all that is gaming, led by a senior floor boss, had interested Erin and gave her the confidence to do more than just play the slots. She was careful and cautious, but she tried roulette before settling on blackjack. She spent time watching the poker tables, but they looked to be mostly occupied by unsocialized males, so blackjack got her attention. She had been playing the five-dollar table for hours when Pam found her. “Come on kiddo. Time to head back.”
“Really? I thought you would have gone all night.”
“The bar is closed. No point in playing if you can’t enjoy a cocktail too. Besides, the limos are here. And I’m anxious to learn what Charlotte and Denise think of me. They’ll be riding in the second limo with you.”
Queen of Hearts Page 11
