and when the hairdresser arrived, she was still trying to understand it.
Nancy had told her about her husband by then, and Jane. She had explained, simply, that Skip had died in an accident the year before during a test flight over Las Vegas. She spoke about it very calmly, but there was something ravaged in her eyes when she spoke of him. In a way, her life had ended when he died, or she felt that way. But in a number of ways, Desmond Williams had changed that.
“He's been very good to me,” she said quietly, “and to my daughter,” Cassie nodded, watching her, and then the hairdresser distracted both of them with her plans for Cassie's bright red mane. She wanted to give it a good trim, and have her wear it long, like Lauren Bacall. She even said she saw a similarity, which made Cassie guffaw. She knew Nick would have really laughed if he'd heard that, or at least she thought so. But Nancy took the hairdresser very seriously, and approved of everything she wanted.
“What exactly is it they want from me?” Cassie asked with a nervous sigh, as the hairdresser clipped and snipped with determination, and Nancy watched her.
She managed to glance at her new charge with a smile, and answered her as best she could.
“They want you to look pretty, sound smart, behave yourself, and fly like an angel. That about sums it up,” She smiled again and Cassie grinned at the description. Nancy made it sound surprisingly simple.
“That shouldn't be too hard. The flying part anyway; the behaving ought to be okay if it means don't fall down drunk or run around with guys. I'm not sure what ‘sound smart’ is going
“I get the feeling you haven't looked in the mirror in a while,” Nancy said honestly, and Cassie nodded.
“No time. I've been too busy flying and repairing planes at my father's airport.”
“You'll have to learn to look in the mirror now.” This was why Williams had so much faith in Nancy. She was tactful, ladylike, intelligent, she did what she was told, and she knew what was expected. Desmond Williams knew his people well and he always knew exactly what he was buying. He had never doubted for a moment that Nancy would be useful to him when they had signed their contract. “Just smile and think that a few photographs won't hurt you. And the rest of the time you can fly anything you want. It's an opportunity almost no one gets, Cassie. You're very lucky,” Nancy encouraged her. She knew just what flying fanatics liked, and how to cajole Cassie into doing the things she didn't. Like the press conferences she was scheduled for, the interviews, the newsreels, and the parties Desmond wanted her to be seen at. Miss Fitzpatrick had even provided a list of escorts.
“Why do I have to go to those?” Cassie asked suspiciously about the parties.
“Because people have to get to know your name. Mr. Williams went to a lot of trouble to have you included, and you really can't disappoint him.” She said it surprisingly firmly.
“Oh,” Cassie said, looking more than a little daunted. She didn't want to seem ungrateful, and she was already beginning to trust Nancy's opinions. It was all happening so quickly, and Nancy was her only friend here. And what Nancy said was true, Williams was doing a lot for her, and maybe she owed it to him to accept his invitations. Nonetheless, to Cassie, looking at the list, the social obligations seemed endless. But Desmond Williams knew exactly what he was doing. And so did Nancy.
When the hairdresser was finished, they all liked Cassie's hair. She suddenly looked more sophisticated, but it was both elegant and simple. And then the hairdresser helped Cassie to do her makeup. At three-fifteen she took a bath and at three forty-five, she put on her own underwear, and the silk stockings that had been left (or her. And when she put on a dark green suit at four o'clock,. she looked like a million dollars.
“Wow!” Nancy said, adjusting Cassie's blouse carefully and checking that the shoes matched her suit and handbag.
“Silk stockings!” Cassie beamed. “Wait till I tell Mom!” She was grinning like a kid and Nancy laughed and asked if she had any earrings. Cassie looked blank and then shook her head. Her mom had a pair that had been her mother's, but Cassie had never owned any. Nor had her sisters.
“I'll have to tell Mr. Williams.” Nancy made a note to herself. She needed a string of pearls too. He had told Nancy exactly the look he wanted. No greasy overalls or work clothes. They could save that for one rare shot, maybe for Life, as part of a bigger shoot. But the look he wanted for her on the ground was pure Lady. Although all Nancy could think of as she looked at her was Rita Hayworth.
Desmond Williams arrived promptly at four o'clock, and he was very pleased with what he saw. He handed Cassie some photographs and details of the Phaeton and Starlifter she was going to fly that week, just so she could familiarize herself with them. And the following week she had some important tests to do on a high-altitude plane he was trying to convert for the Army Air Corps. But as she looked at the photographs, she couldn't help thinking of Nancy's husband. What if Desmond's planes were too dangerous, or the risks he wanted her to take were too great? Like all good test pilots, she tempered blind courage with caution. She wasn't afraid to fly anything, she decided, as she looked longingly at a photograph of the experimental Phaeton.
“You're going to let me fly that?” She beamed at him, and he nodded. “Wow! How about right now? Forget the press, let's go fly.” She beamed at him happily, and suddenly all her earlier concerns and hesitations were forgotten.
He laughed. He loved the way she looked, and Nancy had let him know as he came in that Cassie had been completely cooperative with her. He was very pleased with both of them. This was the best publicity plan he had ever had, and he knew it. “Never forget the press, Cassie. They can make or break your business. Or mine at any rate. We want to be very nice to them. Always.” He looked at her pointedly, and she nodded, still feeling completely in awe of him. He was wearing an impeccably cut dark blue double-breasted suit, and brilliantly shined handmade black shoes. His blond hair was perfectly combed and everything about him was starched, ironed to perfection, and spotless. He was the most beautifully groomed man she had ever seen. And she watched him with utter fascination. Everything about him was calculated and preconceived, thought out to the nth degree. But she was too young to understand that. What she saw was the finished product, what he wanted her to see. And that was what he wanted to teach her, to show the world just exactly the face he wanted. The smiling, sunny, small-town girl, who flew better than any man, and dared everything, and then came tumbling out of the cockpit with a big grin, and a shock of perfectly combed red hair. She was going to have every man in the country in love with her in six months, if it even took that long, and she was going to be every woman's idol. In order to do that, she had to behave perfectly, look spectacular, and fly planes that made the toughest pilots tremble. He had studied everyone else's mistakes, and he didn't intend to make any of the same ones. Desmond Williams was not going to fail, nor was Cassie, if he had any control over her at all. She was going to become the biggest name the country had ever seen. He was going to completely create her. And in her own small way, just by making her comfortable and keeping an eye on her, Nancy Firestone was going to help him. He wasn't going to have all his dreams shot down, by having Cassie get drunk, or swear at someone, or look like hell after a long flight or get involved with some bum. She was going to have to be perfect.
“Ready for the big time?” he smiled at her. She looked fine, better than that actually, but he could still see room for improvement. She had her own remarkable looks, but the suit was a little too big for her, and later Nancy would have to arrange for alterations. She was just a fraction thinner than he'd remembered, and her looks were stronger. She needed something just a little more glamorous, a little bit younger. And he hadn't realized when he'd met her in Good Hope that she had such a spectacular figure. He wanted to play to that without cheapening her, or even approaching the vulgar. But there was a look he wanted to achieve, and they were not quite there yet. But for a first run… she was doing fine.
And she did far better than he had expected at the press conference, in the large conference room next to his office.
Twenty members of the press had been handpicked by him, the impressionable ones. The men who liked girls a little too much, the women. None of the great cynics. And then he introduced her. She came in looking frightened and a little pale, and feeling a little strange in her new clothes and bright red lipstick. But she looked terrific in her new haircut and the green suit. And her natural good looks and warm nature sparkled.
She enchanted them. He had given them the information about the air show, and she was very humble about it. She explained that she had hung around her father's airport all her life, working on engines and fueling planes.
“I spent most of my childhood covered with grease. I only found out I had red hair when I got here,” she quipped, and they loved her. She had an easy style, and once she got used to them, she treated them like old friends, and they loved it. Desmond Williams was so ecstatic he couldn't stop grinning.
