Page 27 of Plane Passion

Why did it sound so dirty when she said it like that?

Her gaze flickered to his, and her cheeks flushed bright red. “The airplane, Pritchard. Get you mind out of the gutter.”

Too late. The mental image of Millie riding him as she gripped his “stick” made his throat go dry. And the fact that her mind had gone to the exact same place only made it worse.

He scooted back and downed the rest of the water in his cup. “I’m going to go get us a refill.”

Grabbing the two tin cups, he fled the room. Christ! He needed to get a grip on himself. She was off limits, no matter what torrid fantasies his brain concocted.

As if he needed a further reminder, Mr. Dickson came striding down the hall toward him. “Pritchard. My office.”

“Yes, sir.” What did Mr. Dickson want this time?

Ernie followed his boss to his pristine office. Every paper on the man’s desk was in a neat pile perpendicular to the edge, as if he’d used a ruler to line them up.

Mr. Dickson took a seat and leaned forward, and Ernie’s stomach clenched as he took the opposite seat, still clutching the two tin cups.

“Why hasn’t she quit yet?” Mr. Dickson narrowed his eyes at Ernie.

Shit. No prevarication then. They were just diving right in. “I’m working on it. I’ve been telling her horror stories about Hell’s Stretch all day.”

And it hadn’t scared her off. That woman had bigger balls than most men he knew. He couldn’t help but admire her bravery.

“Try harder. I’d rather that she quit today and not fly tomorrow. It’s a liability to have a woman up in the air, flying a dangerous route like that. If she crashes, there’s going to be hell to pay in the press.”

That’s what he was worried about? The press? What about Millie’s life? Did the man have no heart? “She’s an excellent pilot. She’ll make it to Chicago just fine.” He crossed his arms and glared at Mr. Dickson, who glowered back at him.

“Watch it, Pritchard. You’re on thin ice. If she doesn’t quit today, she’d better do it soon. I’ll give you two weeks at most to get rid of her, and if you’re not up to it, I’ll find someone else. And I’ll put you on the Boston route. Do I make myself clear?”

Nobody lasted long on the Boston route. They all quit over the miserable weather. It was where management sent pilots they were trying to drum out, and Ernie couldn’t afford that. “Very clear, sir.”

“Good. Now get out of here, and do your job.” Mr. Dickson nodded toward the door.

Squeezing the tin cups so hard he almost dented them, Ernie headed to the breakroom, his mind spinning. How could he get her to quit? Trying to scare her hadn’t worked, nor had appealing to her common sense. Why did she want this so badly? What kept her hanging on despite the dangers?

He refilled the cups and trudged back to the map room, filled with uncertainty. Maybe he needed to understand her better. If he knew what made her tick, it would help him figure out how to get her to move on. Getting closer to Millie was a dangerous game, but maybe it was the best way to find a solution to this impossible situation.

There was a speakeasy not far from the airstrip where he and the boys liked to go for a bit of after-work refreshment. If he took her there and got a drink or two in her, maybe he could get her to confess her reasons for being here. It was risky, but he needed something to go on.

Steeling himself, he headed back into the map room where Millie was bent over the maps, scribbling in her notebook. God, he hated his job right at that moment. It was deeply unfair to try to push her out when she was working so hard to succeed.

He put down the cup beside her. “Say, Aldrich.”

“Hmm?” She turned her big blue eyes on him, and guilt twisted in his stomach.

But he had to do this. “There’s a…um…soda shop near here that sells special sodas. The boys and I go there after work sometimes to unwind. Would you care to join me after we finish up here?”

Millie folded her arms across her chest, narrowed her eyes, and leaned back, looking him up and down. She was onto him for sure. “Are we talking about actual sodas or…special sodas?”

“Special.” He put on his most charming, innocent grin. “Don’t overthink it, Aldrich. You asked me to treat you the same as I would any of the other pilots. I’d offer the same to any rookie pilot sent my way to learn the routes.”

She tilted her head and studied him as if she could read his thoughts.

It took all his concentration to keep his cool.

“All right. I’m in.” She said it like it was a dare. “Just remember I’m one of the boys. It’s a drink with a colleague. No funny business.”

“No funny business. I promise.” He held up his hands and tried to ignore how his heart thudded in his chest with excitement.