“Thank you,” Dash groaned. Today was Saturday, wasn’t it? Why would she get a message on a Saturday? “I’m going to sleep a little longer, then I’ll—”
“I did knock a couple of hours ago, but you were dead to the world. Then I got busy. It’s from Miss MacGill.”
Dash sat up, the curls from last night tumbling over her face. “Miss MacGill?”
“I know you were out late, missy. I don’t support that sort of behaviour, and you know it. Well, it’s come back to bite you this time, hasn’t it? I wouldn’t be putting this off if I were you.”
Dash struggled to her feet, hand on the wall for balance, and staggered to the door. Shoving her hair off her face, she reached for the door handle, and Mrs. Simmons withdrew dramatically, fanning at her nosedue to Dash’s apparent odour. Dash snatched the envelope, nodded a thank-you, then closed the door again.
Dash’s boss had been cordial ever since Dash had started, but she had never sent a personal note before. Nothing good could arrive in a Saturday morning note, could it? She opened the envelope and recognized Miss MacGill’s handwriting right away.
Miss Wilson,
Please come to my office Saturday at 11:30 in the morning.
-Elsie MacGill
Dash dropped onto the pile of clothes she’d left out the night before—or rather, early this morning—and dug through, searching for her watch. When she found it, she squinted at the tiny hands and gasped: 11:00. She had half an hour to make herself look presentable, then actually present herself.
She hastily washed and dressed. Pinning her long, dark hair into a makeshift roll, she raced out the door and caught the bus just as it was pulling away. She disembarked at her normal stop, a block from the CanCar factory, and kept running. When she arrived at last, she checked her watch again: 11:28.
No one could accuse her of being late, she congratulated herself, gasping for breath. She stepped through the entrance then paused outside Miss MacGill’s office to collect herself. A moment later, Miss Rose opened the office door, surprising Dash. Did everyone in the offices work on Saturdays? Thank heavens Dash was just a worker bee. She’d have missed her Friday night fun too much.
“Take a seat in here, please. Miss MacGill will join you momentarily,” Miss Rose said, then she saw herself out.
Dash sat on the edge of her chair, hands clasped on her lap, her feet jiggling. Her eyes burned from all the cigarette smoke clogging the Elks Hall last night, and her head was killing her. The ticking of thewall clock seemed to get louder by the second. Last night had been a time and a half with her friends, and one she felt she’d earned. Her plan had been to dance all night and sleep all day. Not once had she considered taking it easy, because not once had she imagined being called to Miss MacGill’s office the next morning. Was she in trouble after last night? Were the other girls being called in as well? She slumped. If that’s what this was about, Dash had just danced her way out of her dream job.
The door opened behind her, and Dash jumped to attention. Miss MacGill entered, her smile tight, and Dash’s heart sank. From the look on her employer’s face, she was in trouble. Then again, Miss MacGill wasn’t one for smiles in general. Maybe…
Her boss lowered herself behind her desk then gestured for Dash to sit as well. “Good morning, Miss Wilson.”
“Good morning, Miss MacGill. Before we begin,” she blurted, “please allow me to apologize profusely for everything you might have heard about last night. I was irresponsible and impulsive, and I deeply regret my actions.”
A frown flickered over her boss’s face. “Is that right? I am sorry to hear that. From the look of you, Miss Wilson, you had a good time.”
Dash made a lame attempt to smile.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. Young ladies need to let loose just as men do—to a degree, of course. Everyone here works hard, and they deserve a night off. It is I who should apologize, apparently, for calling this meeting today. It looks like you wish you were still asleep in your bed.”
Dash’s cheeks burned.
“Miss Wilson, I did not call you here to discuss last night or any other night. I have a very different conversation in mind.”
“That’s a relief.”
Miss MacGill folded her hands on the desk. “You have not been here very long, but you have made a great impact on this company’s productivity. I commend you for your hard work and your unexpected skills. Youare a problem solver and a leader, and you do not seem to tire easily—today being an unfortunate exception.”
Stars coasted through the corner of Dash’s vision. “Thank you, Miss MacGill.”
“Would you mind telling me what you like best about working here?”
“Oh, Miss MacGill. I couldn’t possibly,” Dash protested. “I love so much about it.”
“Yes, but do you have a favourite aspect?”
“I love the work we do, building these airplanes for the men, and knowing they are the best planes they can be. I work with intelligent women and have made tremendous friends.” She swallowed. “Of course, none of it compares to when I am in the air on a test flight. I never dreamed I would be able to do that. Soaring through the sky is magical to me.”
Miss MacGill leaned back in her chair. “That’s what I thought. Miss Wilson, you remind me very much of myself at your age.”
