Blue Skies (18 page)

Shanna pursed her lips, looked her up and down very critically, then said, “Have a seat right there. Give me a few minutes to finish up.”

“Sure. You take your time.” Dixie sat at one of the three chairs that lined the wall just inside Shanna's office. There were two larger, more comfortable chairs right in front of the desk, but she was not invited to upgrade yet.

Then Dixie watched the woman. Her movements were precise but very slow. The wait was deliberate. Shanna moved her pen over a piece of paper, picked it up and took it to a file cabinet, then repeated the process with a second piece of paper, and a third. Anyone else would have courteously left these simple tasks until after the appointment. Dixie would not look at her watch and betray impatience, even though Shanna kept her waiting until twenty minutes past her appointment time. Just so Dixie knew who was in charge.

Dixie used the time to survey the room. Most of New Century Air was still in disarray, but not Shanna's office. There were a couple of prints on the wall—tense and rigid like her—and silk plants. No photos on her desk, though. Shanna looked to be about twenty-five—a woman alone, Dixie thought. She'd better loosen up and start being nice to people or there would never be pictures on her desk, Dixie predicted.

“Miss McPherson?” Shanna said. “Have a seat?”

Dixie moved forward, handing Shanna the folder containing her completed application and résumé.

“Oh!” she said, nonplussed. “You've already filled this out?”

“Yes. I thought that would make things easier.”

“But how did you…?”

Dixie waited a beat. “Captain Burgess gave it to me, of course.”

Shanna's mouth formed an unpleasant line. “Captain Burgess,” she said derisively, and began looking over the paperwork.

“You sure have a nice office,” Dixie said. “And wonderful art.” She highly doubted Shanna referred to her prints as art. Or even prints. “You're all settled in. You must have come here with the first wave. The
founders.
” Shanna looked up, sort of. She lifted her eyes slightly. “It must be real exciting to start an airline with Joe.”

Now Dixie had her attention. “You know Mr. Riordan?”

“Yes, but I've known Captain Burgess much longer. She's the one who recruited me.” Shanna's expression took on that closed look; she'd been had again. “I suppose there's lots of in-processing to do. I'm really anxious to get it taken care of so I can get to work. Captain Burgess told me she promised Joe that I would go through all the proper channels with HR before reporting to work, so—”

Shanna sat at attention, head cocked. She might as well have shouted,
Hallelujah! I've been heard! My orders are being followed!
She smiled and, oh God, there was lipstick on her teeth.

“I hope you don't consider this too forward,” Dixie said, “but I was wondering, is that a Jones? The sweater? It looks absolutely
made
for you.”

“Why…yes,” Shanna told her.

It is not, you big liar, Dixie thought. But she smiled. “I knew it. I can spot Jones New York anywhere.” She shook her head appreciatively. “You certainly have excellent taste. Joe must pay you well.”

“Not yet,” she said amicably. “But one day I'm sure he will.”

Ah, foolish, foolish girl, Dixie thought. You've let your cat out of its bag. You're building an empire from the bottom up with a brand-new company. No wonder it's so important that people follow the rules!

“Well, you'll earn your keep in Human Resources. Humans can be a real handful.”

“Tell me about it,” sighed the grande dame of HR.

In-processing went a lot faster after the director was paid a few compliments, Dixie thought smugly. After a long but very fruitful afternoon, long enough that Nikki had already left the office, Dixie returned to the inn with her insurance card and ID for New Century Air. “Mission accomplished,” she reported to Nikki. “I have delivered the enemy into your hands.”

“You're awesome.”

“She's a piece of work,” Dixie said. “If she was half nice, I'd take her shopping. Show her where the real knockoffs are.”

“Knockoffs?” Nikki asked.

Dixie and April exchanged glances. They both made silent oaths to never let Nikki out of the house before making sure she looked good.

 

Dixie had never thought she wanted to be tied to a desk, but there was something about this situation that excited her. First of all, she was in on the ground floor, and not as a flight attendant this time. As a flight attendant, her opportunities for promotion tended to be lim
ited to managing other flight attendants, but as an executive assistant she could be promoted into other areas of airline management. Look at Shanna Norris! If she had started as the director of HR at Aries at age twenty-five, when there were only forty employees, she could possibly have risen to VP of HR in a twelve-thousand-employee company sixteen years later.

Being in the right place at the right time was crucial, and if you could perform…

 

Another weekend arrived. Saturday was spent shopping and looking at houses, activities from which Jared and Buck were happy to abstain. Since Dixie would start a new life on Monday, she went to the local nursery Sunday afternoon and bought herself a very attractive potted plant. After that, she stopped at the mall and picked up a couple of frames that complemented the planter. She would use them for pictures of her nieces and nephews. Then she went to the office. Even though it was Sunday, the parking lot was half-full and the office was astir with people trying to catch up on their work.

She used her ID to get into the building and went to Flight Ops. The hallway was quiet and darkened, but strips of light shone beneath the bottom of closed office doors. The hum of a vacuum cleaner sounded somewhere in the building, and a smoke detector running low on batteries was beeping. When she came around the corner to her office space, someone was leaning over her desk.

“I beg your pardon,” she said, already territorial.

Danny Adams straightened in surprise and turned to her. “Dixie! I never expected to see you here today.”

“I didn't expect you, either,” she said warily.

“I'm going through résumés in the conference room. I…ah…had something for your…ah…desk,” he said. Stepping aside, he revealed a black nameplate with gold letters with silver trim, the New Century colors.
Dixie McPherson.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

“I know you go by Dixie,” he said. “I wasn't sure if you'd prefer that or your given name. I can get it changed if—”

“Danny,” she said, touched. “That might be one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me.”

He stepped back while she came toward him with her plant and frames. Hands in his pockets, he said, “I wanted to do something to welcome you aboard. It's great you're going to run this office.”

“Oh, I'm just going to help out,” she said, lifting the plaque and looking at it with admiration.

“No, you're going to run it. The chief pilot's assistant is a person with a lot of power. You'll see. And the way you handle people, Nikki couldn't possibly have made a better choice.”

Suddenly Dixie felt large. Strong. Capable. Yes, she would be running this office. And maybe she wasn't the most brilliant person in the world, but she was brilliant with people.

“Thank you, Danny. That's very nice of you to say.” Then she took her eyes off the plaque and looked at Danny, which made him blush uncomfortably. “Was there going to be a note with this?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “I was just going to leave it.”

“And not even tell me?”

He took another step back. “A lot of the guys…There are going to be guys who want jobs, and think the way to the chief pilot is through you. And then there are
going to be pilots who work here who want better jobs…like check airman…because they make more money that way. And they're going to…You know…”

“Suck up?” she asked, smiling.

He nodded and seemed to relax a little because she understood, but his hands stayed in his pockets.

“Well,” she said, puffing up a little. “Finally.”

“Finally?”

“It's high time this little old Texas gal had some leverage.” She laughed. “But the only thing I care about is that Nikki is a total success in this.”

That actually made Danny grin, and Dixie remembered that when he smiled, he looked kind of handsome. Good teeth. And his eyes, though a little small, fired up with happiness.

“But you should have left a note.”

“I didn't want you to think I wanted anything.”

“Not
anything,
Danny? Didn't you even want to be friends?”

“We're already friends. And it'll be good to work with you.”

“And with you,” she said, meaning it from the heart.

D
ixie stood guard outside Nikki's office and sorted through the gifts from the pilot applicants. She circulated the flowers, candy, stationery, fruit baskets and, her personal favorite and most dangerous to her figure, chocolate-covered strawberries. She made sure that the best of the lot went to Shanna.

Settling in proved more challenging than she'd thought, but it was largely due to the fact that she absorbed all the interruptions formerly directed at the chief pilot. Additionally, she began to work on a job description for her position that went beyond answering the phone and taking delivery of flowers and candy.

Dixie wasn't the only new face at NCA. The population grew daily. A director of flight control appeared, along with a director of maintenance. The Web site was up, as was Reservations. Shanna had a couple of clerks shuffling paper for her and held a job fair at one of the hotels on the Strip. Interestingly, and almost predictably, the two young women she hired were both unattractive. One was well over two hundred pounds and the other, though painfully thin, was very homely. It was as though the goddess of HR feared competition.

The director of in-flight was interviewing potential flight attendants; marketing and sales expanded their work force; and a pass bureau was set up to begin ne
gotiating interline travel agreements with other airlines for the employees and their families. That was just a fancy way of saying companies would trade low-cost stand-by travel.

Bob Riddle's office became more ornate by the day as he added pictures, models and other airline bric-a-brac given to him by airplane and engine manufacturers, and leasing companies and aviation vendors of all kinds. In fact, Bob's office had more aviation gear than Riordan's.

And Bob hired himself an administrative assistant. Ms. Crue Delue Boxley, six foot two, hard as a rock, with legs that went on forever. Her skin was the color of lightly creamed coffee, and long skinny braids wound around her head in turban fashion.

Crue was met with openmouthed stares, and not just because of her beauty, stature and imposing figure. Crue was gorgeous, no doubt about that, but no one had expected Bob to hire a black woman a half foot taller than himself. He seemed to prefer petite young blondes, like the ones he'd flirted with at Aries. But he had hired Crue, so like Jewel in height, looks and cool demeanor that his motivation seemed obvious—he was aping his boss's taste. And while Bob seemed to gloat over his new hire, Crue did not appear to be at all happy in her new position.

But Dixie, in that friendly down-Texas way, went straight to her. “Welcome aboard,” she said, extending her hand.

Crue touched the tips of Dixie's fingers. “Thank you.”

“I'm Dixie McPherson. I work for Nikki Burgess, the chief pilot.”

Crue nodded.

“If you need anything,” Dixie said. “Anything at all…just give a holler.”

Crue looked her over, and Dixie didn't miss her obvious disdain. “Haven't you been here just a week?” she asked, her diction precise, haughty.

“Yes,” Dixie said brightly. “But I know all the right people.” She turned on her heel and walked away, headed straight for Nikki's office.

Dixie walked in and closed the door, then waited for Nikki to complete a telephone conversation. “Is it a requirement that all secretaries in this company be cold, mean and just superior enough to make you hate them?”

“It would seem that way.”

“It's maddening, isn't it?”

“If there were time, it would be maddening. Here, you can start calling this list of pilot applicants and begin scheduling interviews.”

This was probably the most rewarding part of Dixie's job—notifying these applicants of their interviews. In the good old days, every second phone call would find the applicant already employed elsewhere, but those days were over. Now every call she made was answered with an enthusiastic response and promise to get to Las Vegas right away. New Century Air provided travel vouchers, but the candidates were on their own for hotel accommodations.

Back at the ranch—or suites inn, as it were—Carlisle had returned to town after a three-day trip to find his favorite young people morose and twitchy. They'd been in the hotel for three weeks and were beginning to climb the walls. Nikki was too busy to house-hunt and now Dixie was working, too. Buck had taken a week off to entertain the kids and take care of chores such as school
physicals and registration, but he'd gone back to Phoenix, leaving them to their own devices.

They played video games, rented pay-per-view movies, walked to the mall and called their mother seventy times a day.

“You people need a house,” he said to April and Jared.

“No kidding?” April replied. “You noticed?”

“So, the holdup here is the time thing?” Carlisle asked.

“Yeah, Mom doesn't have much time to go out looking,” April told him. “Plus, she said something about the house in Phoenix….”

If Nikki was waiting to find time to house-hunt these two were going to be in a hotel until Christmas. It was seriously affecting their enthusiasm for the move and the new airline.

Carlisle still didn't have a car in Las Vegas, so Dixie had taken to riding with Nikki to work so he could use her vehicle when he was in town. That way he could get himself and the kids around when he had days off in Vegas.

Over the next few days, the women were so overwhelmed by the demands of work that they didn't even ask about how Carlisle and the kids spent their time. They also didn't seem to notice how much improved the kids' moods were since Carlisle returned.

On Friday at noon, April called her mother. “I need you to see something, and it's lunchtime, so can you meet us somewhere?”

“Who? Where? And most important, why?”

“Me, Jared and Carlisle. At 3416 Paradise Court. Because we've found a house. Now, write down these directions.
Please.
”

When April took that tone, Nikki did as she was told. But once she hung up the phone, she just sat. And thought.

Nikki had grown up in an unpretentious rambler with a desert yard that was conveniently close to Burgess Aviation. After her mother left, there were few new decorator touches. Buck didn't care about such things and Nikki was just a kid, but both of them took an engine change on a Lear very seriously. The house Buck occupied now, which he had so generously shared with Nikki and the kids, was similar, though now he at least employed a cleaning lady twice a month. And Nikki had had nothing whatever to do with selecting and decorating the house that had become Drake's. She didn't have an affinity for these things. It was just not her department. And perhaps that was the real reason she'd put off house-hunting in earnest. It was easier to be the chief pilot than find the right place for her and the kids.

“Come on,” she said to Dixie. “You have to come with me. Carlisle and the kids have found a house.”

They drove for twelve minutes. Each day Nikki was growing more appreciative that Las Vegas was actually small. The city was surrounded by planned communities made up of planned neighborhoods. Following April's directions, they passed a couple of very large parks, a dog park and shopping center with restaurants and movie theaters, before arriving at a gated neighborhood. Nikki keyed in the numbers April had given her. They drove around the circle past lovely two-story homes with manicured lawns.

They knew the place by the car parked in front; it was Dixie's. The walk that led to the house wound up a small hill, so that the house itself sat above the street by a good ten feet. A gate stood open, leading into an outdoor
courtyard that took Nikki's breath away. To the right of the courtyard was a two-car garage, and to the left, a single-car garage detached from the house. In the center of the courtyard stood a lovely water fountain surrounded by ferns and flowers. Nikki kept an emotional grip on her heart because she had already fallen in love.

The door was answered by the real estate agent, who introduced herself as June. They stepped into a marble-floored foyer that opened to a sunken living room on the left and staircase on the right. The house was spacious and empty of furniture. The walls that were not papered had been freshly painted, and the light beige carpets had the tracks of recent shampooing.

“As I told your decorator and nanny, the sale of this house fell through at the last minute. There's another interested buyer, and he and his wife are thinking it over this afternoon. I did warn him that I'd be showing the property—”

Nikki and Dixie were exchanging curious glances. Nikki looked back at June. “And where
is
the decorator and nanny?” she asked.

“I left him and the children to explore the walking path that runs behind the house and joins two parks. The middle school is within walking distance, but I'm afraid the high school is more than two miles. There's a bus. If you'll come this way, I'll show you the downstairs first….”

In the front of the house was a formal living room and dining room, and in the back the family room, kitchen and nook. The two-car garage could be entered by way of a short hall that divided a spacious laundry room from a powder room. And on the other side of the family room was a rather large bedroom with full bath.

But it was the backyard that must have won over the
kids, Nikki suspected. It wasn't large, but it was beautiful. The perimeter was richly landscaped with palms, shrubs, roses and ferns and a medium-size pool and spa dominated one side, while a built-in brick barbecue and patio sat to the right of the back door. There was room enough for chaise longues, a good-size table and outdoor furniture.

Buck may not have put much fuss into his house, but he'd been very particular about his yard and barbecue. Nikki had spent a great deal of time outside—taking her morning coffee and newspaper there, a book in the afternoon, that 5:00 p.m. glass of wine.

“The impact of this during the day may not be powerful, but at night it's breathtaking,” June said. The house behind was built a story and a half lower, so that if you looked over the wall you would see down into the neighbor's backyard. But if you looked straight ahead, between the palms and over the rooftops, there was a panorama of beautiful Las Vegas. “You have absolutely no idea what this view is worth. Lots with a view in Seven Hills and Anthem cost more than this entire property. This house is incredibly underpriced.”

Upstairs was a large master and three more bedrooms, a master bath and two full baths. There would be absolutely no squabbling over bathroom time. Nikki had been counting. One, two, three,
four
bathrooms? “And a powder room between the living room and family room,” June supplied. “And of course there's another in the casita in front of the courtyard.”

“Casita?” Nikki asked.

“The previous owners turned the free-standing garage into a guest house with bar-size refrigerator, microwave and bath with shower.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Nikki nearly gasped. “Really?”

“We'll look at it on our way out.”

The house was only six years old and had been well maintained. There were walk-in closets, ceiling fans, plantation shutters, built-in bookcases and shelves. Fireplaces were in the family room and master bedroom, and there was a fire pit in the outdoor patio.

The casita was adorable—just enough room for a bedroom suite and perhaps a couple of chairs and ottomans.

By the time Nikki and June were standing in the courtyard again, Carlisle and the kids were back. Carlisle managed to rein in his enthusiasm, but there was no calming the kids. They were going on and on about the yard, the pool, the barbecue, the parks, the bike paths, and of course both of them had their eye on the casita. April would no doubt turn it into a place to entertain future boyfriends—
not!
While Jared would make it into a fort—over someone's dead body!

Nikki didn't have furniture, nor did she want to inherit any from Drake's house, and this place was going to need tons. There wasn't much in savings besides her 401K, and if she did scrounge enough together for a down payment, that money might already be committed to get out of the overmortgaged house that Drake left behind. This “incredibly underpriced” house carried a nice big sticker price with a very healthy monthly payment. She was sure it was out of her reach.

But it was perfect, and she loved it.

She pulled her checkbook out of her purse. “Tell that other buyer that he waited just a bit too long to make up his mind.” She put a few zeros behind a number and handed June the check. “Will this hold it while we do the paperwork?”

“I think I can make this work for you, Mrs. Burgess.”

The kids were jumping up and down, thrilled both by
the house itself and the fact that they could soon be out of the suites inn. Carlisle slipped an arm around Dixie's shoulders and sucked in a big breath, as though he'd just successfully performed cardiac resuscitation.

They all stood in the street, looking up at the beautiful house for a long time. April said, “Thank you, Mama, thank you,” about a hundred times. Jared kept running up and down the driveway. “I can't believe it” was all Dixie could say. “I just can't believe it.” And then to Carlisle she added, “You can get started on my house next week. It'll have to be a little smaller.” Nikki said nothing. She was in shock. She wondered if the kids realized they'd be sleeping on the floor for about five years.