Page 6 of Plane Passion

Because the postmaster general had reached out to her agent with an offer she couldn’t refuse right after the disaster with Barney. He wanted her to break a speed or distance record as an official U.S. Airmail pilot by Christmas, bringing in good press for the Postal Service and winning over women voters.

If the positive press from her exploits got him the budget he was advocating for, he had agreed to open the airmail to more women pilots. But he had two conditions. First, she had to keep the deal they made a secret. Second, no fraternization. If she became a distraction or did anything that undermined the reputation of the airmail, she was out.

That was all fine by her. After the disaster with Barney, she wanted nothing more than to keep to herself and fly, especially if it furthered the cause of women pilots.

But since she’d promised not to talk about the deal, she simply answered, “I like a challenge.”

“Well, it certainly is challenging, but something tells me you’re up to it.”

She couldn’t help smiling at the compliment. “Thank you.”

Giving Pritchard a pointed look, she took a sip of coffee that tasted like tar. How did they drink this stuff?

Thompson turned to Pritchard. “So how are things going with Nancy?”

Nancy? Who was Nancy? Was there another aviatrix she should know about? Mr. Burleson had sworn she was the only one he was allowing, at least for now.

With a chuckle, Pritchard shook his head. “I broke up with her months ago. You’ve got to keep up, Thompson.”

Ah. They’d moved on to Pritchard’s romantic exploits. Lovely.

“Oh, right. Is it Kathleen?”

Pritchard shook his head again. How many women had this guy strung along? “Close, but no cigar. I’m seeing a gal named Vera now. I don’t think you’ve met her. Cute sassy little brunette. She’s just my speed.”

“Fast and loose?” Thompson smirked at his friend.

Millie had to clench her fists to keep from throttling them both. She had no desire whatsoever to listen to this conversation, and this poor woman! How could they talk about her like that?

Pritchard grinned and winked at Thompson like he was proud of it. “Don’t you know it. But I shouldn’t go into details. After all, we have a lady present.”

“Oh, you remembered me, did you? Does your girlfriend know you talk about her like this?” Millie stepped forward, hands on her hips.

Putting up his hands up in surrender, Pritchard took a step back. “Easy there. She isn’t my girlfriend. She’s just someone I go out with from time to time for a little fun. No commitments.”

As if that made it better. “So you’re toying with her?”

A flush crept up Pritchard’s neck. “I’m not toying with her. I’m just… I’m just…” He made an exasperated noise. “You know what? This is none of your business, and I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Good Lord! This Pritchard was almost as bad as Barney! Were there no good men in the world?

Thompson looked back and forth between them and backed away. “I should head out. I’ve got to make it to Boston by three.” He downed his coffee and turned to go.

“Break a wing,” Pritchard called after him.

“Same to you.” Thompson disappeared through the door.

For a long moment, she and Pritchard glared at each other in silence.

At last, Pritchard downed the last of his coffee with a grimace. “Time for us to get going, Miss Aldrich.”

He led her to a room she hadn’t been in, then motioned for her to pause. “Anyone in here?” he yelled, banging on the door with his fist. “I’m bringing a lady in.”

There was no answer.

“Come on. We keep the leather suits in the locker room. You’ll need one for today’s flight.”

As she entered, she was hit by the smell of dirty socks and aftershave. The open wood cubbies had hooks for the aviators’ clothes and sundries with locked metal cabinets above. In about half of the cubbies hung well-worn full-body leather flight suits with buttons down the front. The others were draped with an assortment of men’s garments and ditty bags. The walls were papered with a mix of old army aviator recruitment posters, newer Postal Service ones, and the occasional half-naked burlesque dancer. Lovely.