Blue Skies (15 page)

Next, at April's insistence, came new makeup, along with lessons in applying eyeliner and lip liner and tips for keeping lipstick off your teeth, things Nikki had never gone to a lot of trouble about.

“That was before,” April said. “If we're going to start a whole new life here, then we're going to start it by looking good.”

“I can see your point,” Nikki admitted. “But you know I've never had an aptitude for this sort of thing.”

“I know,” April assured her. “That's why you have me.”

For the first time in maybe her entire life, Nikki felt passably attractive. Not beautiful like April or Dixie, but no hag. Almost forty and pretty at last? How had she missed all this? Obviously Buck wasn't the best person to teach her these refinements, but who had taught April?

“My peer group, teen magazines and MTV,” she said with a shrug, as though it was unimportant. “Now, listen, you don't want to shock anyone at work, okay? You don't want it to look like you've had a big makeover. So what you do is this—dress casual and wear a little makeup, like base and light lips. And every day you'll upgrade a little. Go to the pantsuit with heels, then add eye makeup and wear a casual skirt. By the end of the first week, you're ready for your first suit, the sage with the slit in the skirt. Get me? Then you're where you want to be. Sort of like using Grecian Formula on your gray hair…slowly getting the gray out, so no one really sees it happening and they just learn to accept it. Got it?”

Nikki stared at her daughter, openmouthed. It was as much a science as this? She wasn't sure she was up to the job.

April grabbed her mother's biceps and gave her a little shake. “Mom! Snap out of it!”

“Sorry. I have to break them in to me looking good?”

“Yes. So they think that all that really happened is you got a haircut and you're wearing your real clothes and not your uniform to work. They'll be impressed by how beautiful you are and assume it was overlooked before on account of that manly uniform and barfy hat. And about uniforms…When you get the new ones at New Century, we're getting tailored pants for the women. The ones Aries had are cut for a man. No wonder you felt dumpy.”

“You know, April, if you were as good at math as you are at fashion, I'd have to relent and admit you're a genius. A purebred genius.”

Her daughter winked. “Some people wanna run the company, some people wanna dress the people who run the company.”

 

Buck flew up for the weekend and announced that he had taken a week off from Burgess Aviation to spend a little time with the kids before school started. While Nikki began the process of acclimating herself to her new job, Buck got the kids enrolled in school and took them on day trips around the area—Lake Mead, Mount Charleston, Zion National Park, Mesquite, Hoover Dam, Nellis Air Force Base. Evenings, they looked at real estate with the relocation expert provided by New Century.

It took only days for April to say, “I think there's definitely a boat in my future. A nice big boat with plenty of skis.”

“And a place in the mountains for me,” Jared added. “For downhill skiing.”

The first day of her new job, Nikki followed April's
directions to the letter when she got ready for work. Even if she'd wanted to cut corners, the little matter of sharing a bedroom with her daughter would have put a stop to that. April insisted on helping with things like eyeliner and lip liner, and Nikki had to pass inspection before going off to work.

She started her second week at New Century Air with company ID, a benefits package, a parking card for the airport, as well as a reserved spot at the office building. She no longer had to stop at a security station, but gave a high-five to the guard. Office furniture was delivered, including silk plants and trees and a couple of prints for the walls. There was a new computer on her desk and a laptop in her briefcase, and she'd been given a new cell phone and nameplate on the door. Bob Riddle told her to see Human Resources about getting a secretary for Flight Operations and to pick up any pilot applications that had been floating in with the mail.

If New Century was going to make a November start-up, they'd have to hire the first couple of pilot classes immediately. In addition, the training department, crew scheduling and dispatch would have to be staffed.

Shanna Norris, the head of Human Resources, looked like a Jewel James wannabe. Her hair was bleached and flouncy, and there was a slit up the thigh of her leather skirt. The heels on her shoes were uncomfortably high and her nails dangerously long. Plus, she was one cold fish. Nikki sincerely hoped this wasn't the kind of job where she'd be constantly dodging the nastiness of fancy women. All things told, she found them even less appetizing than chauvinistic men.

Upon request, Shanna handed over a folder containing the list and résumés of applicants for the job of department secretary who had passed the background checks
and met the minimum requirements. “There are more than thirty. It's my job to make sure they can work for this company and your job to make sure they can work for you. And Bob Riddle said you'd be asking for the pilot résumés that we've collected so far. Correct?”

“Yes. Thanks.” Nikki scanned the names on the list.

“Come with me,” Shanna said. She turned and walked ahead of Nikki down a corridor of cubicles in a manner she could only have copied from Jewel. When she finally stopped at one, she said, “Help yourself.”

Nikki looked into the small room, but all she saw were several boxes. “Where are they?” she asked.

“Right there. Do you want me to have a desk moved in here, or would you like to take them to your office?”

“Wait a minute,” Nikki said. “Where are the pilot résumés?”

“Right
there,
” she replied impatiently. “Those boxes.”

Nikki experienced a moment of terrifying clarity. There were, after all, a couple of hundred thousand commercial airline employees out of work since 9/11, but New Century Air wasn't even certified to fly passengers yet!

“Have you any idea—”

“In the neighborhood of twelve thousand,” Shanna said curtly. “There's a dolly in the janitor's closet if you want to move them.”

“Holy God,” Nikki breathed. For an instant she felt the individual agony of each person captured on paper in those boxes. Out-of-work pilots with families to feed. Unemployed in an industry that seemed to be shrinking because of terrorism, war and a weak economy. It was like having her life flash before her eyes, except in this case it was the lives of twelve thousand qualified pilots
who needed jobs. And that was probably the tip of the iceberg.

“Shanna, when did these start coming in?”

“Joe had one box full by the time I was hired to build the human resources department. The minute word got out that there was funding for NCA, they started pouring in.”

Nikki took the lid off one box and found it filled with stacked résumés. There were four huge boxes, all full, she assumed. She lifted the résumé on top and scanned it. “Amazing,” she said. This guy was forty-five, so he had a good fifteen years of flying left before he would be forced to retire at age sixty by FAA regulation. He had more than ten thousand hours, four thousand of them captain time in a large wide-bodied jet. He had worked for three airlines, the first two big companies who had furloughed employees and the third a post-deregulation start-up that had been quite successful, then was forced out of business by the effects of 9/11. Married, he had two teenagers, both college age. She hoped his wife had a good job.

The next guy was fifty-five. He'd logged more than twenty thousand hours on the big jets, with plenty of international experience. He'd held positions as check airman, instructor, former assistant chief pilot and had not worked in three years. His company went under after the Air Transportation Stabilization Board turned them down for the loan guarantee promised by Congress after 9/11. This guy, so talented and experienced, must think he would never work again.

Ah, here was one, thirty years old, aeronautics degree from MIT, two thousand hours in cargo…She imagined him wanting to be a commercial pilot since he was a little kid, and now what were his chances? With all these
pilots out of work, this guy was up against résumés with twenty thousand hours on them.

There were American pilots who had been flying in foreign countries and wanted to come home, retired military airmen, pilots who'd been out of work since 9/11, pilots who'd gone from airline to airline, moving on as each one crumbled. They had degrees, thousands of hours clocked, vast experience, high hopes and crushed dreams. There were strikers and those who had crossed picket lines, ex-patriots and retired military who had served the country faithfully through a war that followed the terrorist attacks. She kept looking for one man or woman she could say was less than desirable.
Available immediately,
the résumés said.
Will relocate anywhere.

Travel and tourism was the largest industry in the world, and the industry was bankrupt.

The next résumé made her realize this box must be filled with recent submissions. It was from Danny Adams, Captain, Aries Airline. Nikki had known and respected Danny for years. He was a good, solid aviator, an ethical and honest man, intelligent, diligent, motivated. He was a little on the shy side, but that was preferable to the usual arrogance in the cockpit. One thing she could be certain of with Danny—if he accepted a job from her, she would have his unquestioned loyalty. As a woman in a man's job, she knew enough to start building her alliances. Like it or not, her gender was going to be outnumbered. And there was a male faction out there who would be just waiting for her to screw up.

She went back to Shanna's office and peeked in. The woman looked up from paperwork, unsmiling. This was going to get old, Nikki thought. All these ice maidens. “I ran across the résumé of a good friend. I'm going to give him a call and—”

“We have procedures,” Shanna said, cutting her off. “When you identify a candidate for hire, I'll make the call, set up an appointment for his interview, physical exam, psychological testing, et cetera.” She was holding her hand out toward Nikki, her way of saying,
Hand the résumé over—I'm in charge here.
“All hiring and firing is done through HR. We keep the employee files, you provide us with documentation. Understand?”

Nikki looked around, frowning. We? Us? As far as she could tell, Shanna had no staff.

“You know what?” Nikki said. “Forget this for now.” Then she escaped before Shanna could attack her with a lot more rules and instructions. Nikki had stopped by as a courtesy; it had never occurred to her to ask Shanna's permission to hire someone she had known for years, someone who could actually use Nikki and Joe Riordan as references.

She made a fast break around the corner on her way to Joe's office, when she passed him in the hall. “Hey, Joe—just the man I'm looking for. Do you remember Danny Adams? Captain at Aries?” Joe frowned, thinking. “Short guy—bald,” she said, trying to jog his memory. “He was a check airman…nicest man you'll ever meet. Good pilot, too.”

“Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“I ran across his résumé. I know him very well. He's smart and loyal and hardworking. I thought I'd get him up here to help me with hiring, if he'll come.”

“Good idea,” Joe said, walking away.

“So you have no problem with that? You don't want me to have HR do it?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I don't care. HR is there to help you if you need them.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Nikki said. Just as she thought. HR
is here to help us, we're not the HR support system. Then she smiled as she realized this was going to piss Shanna off.

Carrying Danny's résumé, she went back to her office, closed the door and called the phone number listed. “Danny? Hi, it's Nikki Burgess.”

“Hey there! How are you?”

“Great, Danny. And you?”

“Never better, but what's that area code on my caller ID?”

“Las Vegas,” she said.

He burst out laughing. “Then it's true? You left Aries for chief pilot of Riordan's new company?”

“Word travels fast,” she observed. “It's called New Century Air, and one of my first official acts as chief pilot is placing this call. I came across your résumé, Danny, and I need some immediate help with hiring. Why don't you come up and look the place over?”

“I knew I wanted to get into Riordan's new company when I sent the résumé. And now that I know you're in charge, I'll just put in my notice and come up. How about two weeks?”

“Um, Danny, just so there's no misunderstanding, I'm not exactly in charge. I report to the vice president of operations, one Mr. Bob Riddle.” She was answered by stunned silence. “Danny?”

“Bob Riddle?”

“He has a lot of management experience,” she said. “An executive search company selected him as one of their prime recommendations to Joe.”

Danny whistled. One thing Nikki knew about Danny was that he didn't seem to have the penchant for gossip and rumor that ran rampant through the cockpits of the world. In fact, she'd never heard him say a seriously
negative thing about anyone. But after his whistle he said, “I'll see if I can cash in my accrued vacation and get up there right away, Nikki.”