Page 59 of Plane Passion

Even flying didn’t take his mind off her. Instead, he was haunted by the ghost of her plane, following behind him, just as she had on the way to Chicago. In the air or on the ground, she consumed him.

He pulled into the lot at Heller at 7:30 a.m., determined to catch her before her flight at 8:30. Her little red Stutz Bearcat was nowhere to be seen. The place was only starting to stir. A few mechanics went about their business in the hangar. Mr. Dickson wasn’t in yet. He thought he was the only pilot on site until he bumped into Jack.

“Ernie, what are you doing here? I thought you didn’t fly until Thursday.”

Good question. What was he doing here? He’d been so preoccupied with Millie, he forgot to come up with an excuse.

“There’s something I needed to see to,” he said lamely.

Fortunately, Jack shrugged and let it go. “How’s the Boston route treating you?”

“So far, it’s been fine. The weather has been cooperating. We’ll see how it goes as winter gets started in earnest.” Weather. Yes, weather was a safe topic.

Jack leaned in and murmured so that only Ernie could hear, “And how are things with Miss Aldrich? It’s such a shame she didn’t manage to break your record on Thursday. She got so close—just fifteen minutes behind.”

“She tried to break my record?” He had no idea. The news should have triggered his competitiveness, but instead, it made him miss her all the more.

“Yes, she did. The wind was against her, but watch yourself. Your record isn’t safe. It might not have happened this week, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“I’m not worried.” Not because he thought she couldn’t do it, but because he secretly hoped she would. For the love of God, what had come over him?

Jack leaned in close and whispered behind his hand, “Any more kissing?”

Oh, God. If only he knew. Ernie cleared his throat. “She’s not speaking to me at the moment, if you must know.”

Jack shook his head. “What did you do?”

“What did I do? Why do you assume it’s me? And maybe it’s for the best. Mr. Dickson would have our heads if he ever found out anything happened between us.”

“You don’t look like you think it’s for the best.”

“Shh. Someone’s coming.”

The door opened, and there she was in her cold-weather pilot garb, her cheeks rosy from the autumn chill. Their eyes met, and she froze.

Jack looked from one of them to the other as they stood still, gazing at each other as if no one else in the world existed. Backing out of the breakroom, Jack mumbled, “Catch you later, Ernie,” and disappeared.

Ernie’s heartbeat thundered in his ears.

“Pritchard,” she said at last in a gravelly voice. “I’ll get my coffee and leave you to your business.” She dove for the pot of hot sludge as if it was a life raft.

No. He couldn’t let her leave. Nor could he find words as he watched her pour herself a cup with slightly trembling hands.

“Millie, please,” he managed at last. “I’ve been waiting for you to call.” Not very smooth, but he might as well get to the point.

“We can’t talk about this here,” she said, taking a too-large gulp of coffee and coughing.

“Then where?”

“We can’t talk about this anywhere.”

That was what he was afraid of. What recourse did he have if she pushed him away?

He took a step toward her. She took a step back, holding her coffee in front of her as if she planned to defend herself with it.

“Millie, please. All I want to do is talk.”

That was a complete lie. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. He wanted to⁠—