Deity Arms & Bridget

by Barbie Lee
© Dec. 2001

Part Two

 

The buzzing finally brought me up out of a deep sleep. Bless Donna’s malicious heart, she had set the alarm over on the table where I would have to get out of bed to shut it off. I made the shower and slipped into a fresh uniform. It took me awhile but I managed to get my face put together. I missed Donna’s help. I didn’t bother making my bed since Donna had left hers in a mess. I picked up the room in case this apartment didn’t have maid service between flights. A short cab ride and I was dragging luggage through another airport and asking directions to the Atlantic terminal.

Sherry and Sam were behind the desk as I walked up to the boarding ramp. He smiled and winked with his right eye. "Thought you might have decided to pass on this flight after last night."

Sherry had been looking at the manifest and hadn’t seen me coming. Her head snapped up to see who or what Sam had been talking about. Her eyes widened two sizes as she swept from my face down to my breasts. She blinked a couple times before she focused on my name tag. "You’re late, Bridget."

"Yes ma’am." From past experience I knew most of the flight attendants showed up an hour before the flight to organize the kitchens and to give managers time to make substitutions in case someone didn’t show. Taking off at noon, this flight wouldn’t be serving meals. I hadn’t really thought about what time I should have arrived before takeoff.

Sam reached down and took my suitcase and carry on. "No problem, Sherry. I clocked her in an hour ago."

"Certainly sir." Sherry studied me with renewed interest.

I followed Sam onto the plane before I caught up with him in the galley. "It’s not I don’t appreciate the help but I would rather play by the same rules everyone else has to play by."

Sam set my suitcase down on the cabinet and took out a pair of pumps with a two inch heel. "Donna said you would be wearing stilts when you arrived. She also said to make sure you had sensible heels before takeoff."

I looked down at my pumps with the five inch heel. I hadn’t given it any thought when I got dressed this morning. Donna really was my guardian angel. I traded shoes with the ones he was holding in his hand. "Thanks, and don’t change the subject. I’m not looking for favors. It causes hate and discontent among the crew when one is favored over another as infractions are covered up and forgiven."

Laugh lines formed around Sam’s eyes as he looked at me. "You really are something, Bridget. Okay, it won't happen again. I promise when you are late they will put it in your folder. Too many infractions and you won’t be able to fly with anyone but me."

"What do you mean? Why only you and not fired?"

He was chuckling as he picked up the manifest and handed it to me. "You have passengers boarding. It’s time to go to work. Make them feel like you are personally pleased they are flying on ‘your plane’."

I could hear footsteps coming down the boarding ramp. I took the passenger list from Sam and put on my coffee, tea, or me smile. "Aye, aye, Captain."

We soon had the passengers loaded and our pre takeoff routine done. It seemed like only minutes and we were in the air climbing for blue sky. I was wishing it was me up there talking to the tower and making the small adjustments to the flight path as we climbed out over the clouds. There was little time for wool gathering as it was time to make our passengers feel like they were flying with Hooters in the Sky. Cindy was the girl working up front with me. She wasn’t seriously endowed like I was but she did have curves. It didn’t take long for me to put my hair up in a pony tail to keep from fighting with it as I bent over seats to serve drinks and help with pillows or magazines. There were a million other things our passengers could think of to keep me reaching as they looked down between my breasts. It was funny, I really didn’t mind. If that was what turned them on then more power to them. Men have such weak little minds.

I kept Sam and Darrel our pilot and copilot supplied with hot coffee. Jeff our flight engineer was also on my, keep happy list. Darrel and Jeff teased Sam every time I walked into the cockpit about me being his newest girlfriend. Then they would tease me for a date.

"Bridget, if you can stand our Captain I know you will like me. I’m better looking, I have more money, and I treat my dates like a lady wants to be treated." Darrel teased for the umpteenth time as I replaced his coffee with a hot cup.

Darrel was a handsome cuss but I didn’t tell him that. "Ask me again in a few days, Darrel. I won’t have so much on my agenda."

Really, I had no idea what my agenda was but I didn’t want to get in a date I couldn’t keep.

Jeff, wasn’t to be left out. "Bridget, forget those two losers. They are the bottom of the barrel. Ask any of the other girls who have been on one of their miserable dates. But if you ask them about me they will tell you I always treat a lady to a good time."

Laughing I shook my head. "Jeff, I’m looking forward to our good times but not for awhile. I really do have a lot of things I need to straighten out first."

That caused a good natured argument among them who was the best date. It was all done in good taste and the men were gentlemen about it.

I didn’t say no to an offer from any of them. I just didn’t lock myself into a time.

I was double glad when we touched down and I said my last, "Thank you for flying Atlantic, hope you enjoyed your flight, please come again." For the second day, it wasn’t my feet but my legs that were killing me. Cindy and I didn’t serve meals but it was worse than the day before. Without a meal to entertain their weak little minds, those men wanted me wiggling my ass up and down the aisle for entertainment. So, wiggle I did for a very small paycheck. There had to be a better way to make a living. I was going to have varicose veins in my legs before I reached…? I had no idea how old I was. Okay, before I aged another six years or whatever.

Like the flight yesterday, I had a couple dozen business cards in my purse from men who wanted a date. I also had four in there from guys who offered instant marriage. I guess my coffee, tea, or me smile was working.

Before Jeff and Darrel stepped off the plane they made me promise I was going on a date with them some time in the future. Before she left, Sherry made it a point to tell me I was supposed to be at the plane an hour before boarding or I was late. Cindy and Wanda were only seconds behind Sherry.

Sam came out of the cockpit carrying a suitcase and a clothes bag. "Still here?"

I picked up my overnighter and pulled the handle out on my suitcase. "Not for long."

Sam escorted me out to the sidewalk where he hailed a cab. After the cab pulled up to the curb, Sam loaded my suitcases in the front with the driver and put something in the driver’s hand. He turned back to where I was standing. Before I could get in the cab he took me in his arms. "Would you mind if I kissed you again?"

"No." I think I wanted that kiss more than he did. I wrapped my arms around his neck and laid my heart and soul on him with a kiss. He hesitated and then he pulled me in as he returned the passion, crushing my breasts against his chest. My heart, my mind, my emotions went into orbit.

Sam’s eyes were seriously studying me after I let him back up for air. "I would definitely call that a kiss."

Opening the door to the cab I slid in without answering him. First I didn’t have an answer. Second, I was emotionally unstable at the moment. I needed to put some time and space between us as my body wanted to stay in his arms.

The driver pulled away from the curb as I shut the door. I was in a fog as I tried to sort out my feelings. What was I doing? I had accepted Bridget as an escape from Jerry’s death spiral. What came with the package? Was I a whore and going to want to jump in bed with everything wearing pants? No, because I didn’t want to jump in bed with Cal or Eddie or a couple hundred other men who tried to put the make on me the past few days. Okay, so at least I wasn’t a nymphomaniac. Because I had been a programmer I ran though my head, cause and effect a couple dozen times before the cab stopped.

"We are here at your apartment, Bridget." The cab driver was getting my bags out of his cab by the time I collected my thoughts and looked at where we had stopped.

I slid out of the rear seat and was opening my purse when he held up his hand. "Sam paid for the fare, Miss Tonue."

Only then did I look at the driver’s face as I had been deep in thought until that moment. "Kemel, what a small world. Let me give you a tip."

"Sam took care of that too, Miss Tonue." He slid behind the wheel and was pulling out into the street almost before it was out of his mouth.

I waved at the gargoyles before I picked up my bags.

"It’s that girl again. Don’t answer her and don’t look." Grimcost was talking out of the side of his mouth as he held real still.

Garmon looked down. "I told you she was gonna be trouble."

Grimcost felt like pushing his friend off the ledge. "Do you think you could be a little more obvious? Why don’t you hang a camera up here and sell home movies? Mr. Logan isn’t going to like this."

"She knows so what’s the big secret? I’m telling you, she’s trouble with a capital T." Garmon was watching the girl gather up her suitcases.

Grimcost decided his friend was right. The girl most definitely knew. He looked down as she walked into the building. "She’s a beautiful lady. Morgan done right by her."

Mr. Logan was talking to Horace as I walked in the door. He turned to look. "Welcome ba…"

I dropped my suitcases and ran up to Mr. Logan wrapping my arms around him. I laid my head up against his chest. "I’m Bridget aren’t I, Mr. Logan?"

Hesitantly, slowly he put his arms around me and held me tenderly as a father would. "Yes dear, you are most definitely Bridget." He was talking to the top of my head.

Tears of happiness leaked out of the corners of my eyes. "Thanks, Mr. Logan."

I stood up on tiptoes and kissed him on the left cheek as I cried. "Thanks for everything."

He reached up to my cheek with his right hand and caught some of my tears on his fingers. Tears are raw emotion boiled down to solid form. They could be emotions of happiness or emotions of despair. "Bridget, I…"

Backing out of his arms I gathered up my suitcases and headed for the elevator without looking at him or Horace. I wanted to tell my friends I was me if I could get them to come to the window.

Horace watched as the elevator doors closed behind Bridget. "She hasn’t settled down one bit. I thought Donna was going to tell her she wasn’t dreaming any longer."

Mr. Logan shook his head. "She knows, my old friend. Donna said Bridget figured it out the first evening. Rarely do we get one so willing to give up one life for another. She is most definitely a breath of freshness."

Horace was laughing as he looked over at his friend. "Wipe her freshness off your cheek."

Mr. Logan laughed as he reached up with his left hand and wiped his left cheek where Bridget had applied her affections for the second time. "If this keeps up we will have to go back to carrying handkerchiefs like we did in the thirties and forties."

Horace nodded. "I think we are going soft, my old friend. I like it."

Slapping Horace on the back, Mr. Logan shook his head. "Most definitely."

Mr. Logan held his hand over the desk and dropped the two tears he had wiped from Bridget’s cheek. They fell to the desk making no sound. Glistening like stars in the night, they held their form. "I think I may frame them. Lest we forget in centuries to come, we can look at them and be reminded of Bridget."

Horace pushed one of them with his finger. It flashed and sparkled as it rolled across the desktop. "How could we ever forget?"

In my apartment I ran over to the window and slid the blinds up. There were two gargoyles on my ledge looking in. I raised the window, grabbed the one on the right by his head and planted a big kiss on the end of his nose. "I’M BRIDGET!"

"Whuhhhhhh!" He back peddled and fell off the ledge.

I tried to grab him to stop his fall but I was too late. I knew he had fallen to his death like Jerry had planned on doing. Seconds later he circled up and back over the top of the building.

By this time the second one had decided it was useless to try and make like a stone statue. He started to back off the ledge. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and held on. "Oh no you don’t. You aren’t getting away that easy. You are going to stay here and listen to my story whether you like it or not."

He bared his fangs and growled at me. "grrrrrrrrr"

I leaned up and kissed him on the nose. "Don’t you dare bark at me you ruffian."

His eyes were blinking and he stopped trying to pull away.

"Okay, now that I have your undivided attention I want to tell you my story. Come back up here before we both fall because it’s a long story and I don’t want to tell it while I’m leaning out the window." I turned lose of him hoping he wouldn’t run as I backed up from the window.

He thought about it for a second before he stepped up and put his head inside the apartment.

"That’s more like it. Okay, where do I start? Jerry was born in Utah in a little suburb outside Salt Lake City. He was the only child of a moderate to do family. They…."

The gargoyle laid down on the ledge and crossed his front paws as he listened attentively to my story.

Grim had flown back over the roof to land behind Grimcost. He was spitting and sputtering. "Patooie, cough cough,"

Grimcost looked over his shoulder. "What is your problem?"

"That stupid girl kissed me." Grim was wiping his nose with both front paws.

"WHAT! You mean Little Miss Troubles!" Grimcost had turned to look.

"Who else but? Germs, human diseases, yuck, patooie." Grim spit on his paws and wiped his nose again.

"What about Gorm? What happened to him?" Garmon had joined in the conversation.

"I think he’s still over there talking to her." Grim wiped his nose on the roof.

"You’re kidding! This I have to see!" Garmon took to the air before Grim could stop him.

"Hey, wait for me." Grimcost was right behind.

"They will be sorry." Grim watched as they dipped down below the roofline.

Two more gargoyles landed on my window ledge as I was talking. "Well, hello there."

I reached up and scratched the one on my right behind the ears. "Glad you could join us."

The other newcomer received a pat on the head. I recognized them as the ones who stood guard over the front of the building. "Where were we? Well, by this time I was in the second grade and…"

Grim kept waiting for his friends to return. Finally he walked across the roof to where he could look down where the three gargoyles were lying on the ledge listening to the girl. She had a pleasing voice and soon he was listening also.

Mr. Logan and Luk were watching from the other side of the room as Bridget talked to the gargoyles. She put her hands behind her legs and held her skirt as she folded her legs and settled down on the carpet by the window.

Luk cocked his head as he watched and listened. "She bewitched them. What power does she possess to capture them so?"

Smiling, Mr. Logan took a deep breath before answering. "The same power she has over all of us. Honesty, curiosity, unselfish love, the eyes of a child seeing everything for the first time."

Her melodious voice was pleasing to the ears, soothing to the mind, and made one want to listen when she spoke, but he had work to do. Mr. Logan left Luk in the room as he reluctantly returned to business. He was wondering who had bewitched whom? Each lifeshift was different, some good, some bad. Everyone accepted it in a different way. Bridget was so unusual in the way she embraced her lifeshift. She was the one in a billion odds. Morgan had done right by choosing her.

"Girl, are you going to sleep your life away?" She was shaking the bed to keep me from going back to sleep.

"I’m trying if everyone would leave me alone. We flying again?" I opened my eyes and was looking at that Leprechaun I had seen the previous morning.

"You got it. No rest for the wicked. Now shake a leg and let’s get our show on the road." She was pulling clothes out of the closet and packing my suitcase again.

I sighed as I rolled out of bed, pushed my hair out of my face and looked out the window for my friends. Of course they were gone. They had a job to do, same as me. They had to guard the building as gargoyles during the day. "Uh, Donna, if I remember, Morgan said she would be back today. I need to make arraignments with Mr. Logan or go find another apartment someplace else."

"Change of plans, Bridget. Morgan set up a fashion show in San Francisco. Our plane is headed to Los Angeles. We wiggle our little tails for the guys on the way out and you will catch a commuter up to San Francisco to work with Morgan."

She had my suitcase packed as she looked up. "Why are you still here? Hustle girl. We are late as usual and should be at the plane by now."

I was headed for the shower before I thought about it. "We do have a full compliment on this flight don’t we? If any stewardesses are missing then I am going to be one of those also."

Laughing, she pointed toward the bathroom. "Go! I had my fill that last trip too. That plane isn’t getting off the ground with me on it if everyone isn’t there."

Moments later I was headed out the door behind Donna when I noticed something was right. It took me a second but the wedding dress in the corner was missing. I caught up with Donna in the elevator. "Someone has been in Morgan’s apartment and took the wedding dress. I need to let, Horace know we have a thief in the building. On my salary, I’ll be paying on that original for years."

"The dress is in San Francisco, part of the show." Donna stepped off the elevator at the ground floor.

"Morning ladies. Miss James, you look lovely this morning. Miss Tonue, as do you." Horace was picking up Donna’s suitcases as he spoke.

"Thank you, Horace. Cab here?" Donna was following Horace out the door.

Horace was loading up suitcases in the trunk as I stepped out on the sidewalk. It was a beautiful morning for sure. I could smell the doughnuts in the little pastry shoppe down the block. Trick was cooking breakfast across the street. I turned and waved at the gargoyles up on the parapet.

Garmon raised his right front paw in response before Grimcost admonished him. "What do you think you are doing? What if someone sees you?"

Garmon looked up and down the street. "No one is looking and besides, I like her."

Grimcost checked to see if anyone was looking. The coast was clear. He raised his right front paw to wave back to Bridget just as Donna and Horace looked up to see who Bridget was waving at.

Grimcost and Garmon got stone cold still as they tried to look like the gargoyles they were.

Grimcost whispered out of the side of his mouth."Oh shit! We are in deep doo doo now."

Garmon looked down without moving his head. He whispered back. "I knew that girl was trouble."

Horace tried not to but the harder he tried to hold it in the worse it became until it was no longer possible to contain. He burst out laughing as he ducked his head and shook it. The idea the gargoyles had waved back at Bridget was funny. The idea they had tried to conceal it like little kids caught in the cookie jar was hilarious.

Donna wasn’t going to either but when Horace lost it, she had no choice. She started laughing. She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at Horace but it didn’t help. It was so funny she fell into the back seat holding her head and her side.

I was looking around to see what the joke was and why I didn’t see it?

Kemel was trying to tell Bridget it was time to go but he couldn’t talk. Every time he opened his mouth to say something he would laugh. He walked around to the driver’s seat as his shoulders shook while he tried to contain the laughter.

I climbed into the cab still wondering what was so funny?

As we pulled away I looked back at Horace who had one arm up against the building, the other holding his side as he laughed.

Donna finally managed to get herself under control. She sat up in the seat wiping tears out of her eyes. She had her mouth all screwed up trying to not giggle. She did real good until she looked at Bridget who was looking back with a puzzled look on her face. That was Donna’s undoing. She lost it again as she leaned back in the seat and positively howled with laughter.

Horace managed to walk back into the building as he wiped tears out of his eyes. Mr. Logan walked out of his office. "What’s so funny?"

Horace shook his head a couple times while he tried to find his voice. He pointed up in the air. "Your pets. Bridget has ruined them. She waved at them and they waved back. They tried to act like they didn’t do it when Donna and I looked up."

"I’ll look into this." Mr. Logan didn’t look pleased.

"You can’t blame Garmon and the others. They aren’t able to handle her spell any better than the rest of us. It’s no different than what she’s done to all of us." Horace wiped the last of the laugh tears off his cheeks.

Mr. Logan sighed and nodded. "You’re right. She’s bewitched us all. I’ll restrict them to the hidden part of the roof until she leaves us."

Horace’s smile turned into a frown. "She will leave won’t she."

Mr. Logan looked out the front door. "Yes, it’s the way it has to be. She will find her place in the world again. She will leave."

Horace found his chair behind the security desk. "The thought pains me. She is one of the best we have had."

Mr. Logan turned to his old friend. "Enjoy the time she shares with us. There will be others."

"Yes, but only one Bridget. Only one." Horace looked wistfully out the front door.

I paid Kemel for the cab fare as we unloaded our suitcases at the airport. My hundred dollar bill was now forty six dollars and eleven cents. If it was the customary two weeks after starting work before I received my first paycheck, I was going to be begging on the streets for money. It wasn’t a funny situation. In spite of my mental distractions, I even managed to keep up with Donna on the way through the terminal. In spite of some real rude comments by a few men, Donna and I managed to keep our coffee, tea, or me, smiles intact as we threaded our way through to the Atlantic terminal.

Cindy was checking traffic at the boarding tunnel. She looked up as Donna and I approached. "Miss James, Miss Tonue, you are late ladies."

It seemed I was going to be habitually late for every flight. It wouldn’t take long for me to get fired as my personnel file filled up with tardy slips. I was thinking I better find my schedule and start taking care of getting myself to the airport or I really was going to be serving coffee in some café. I was also dragging Donna into my life and making her late because she had to come and get me for my flights. "Yes, ma’am."

"Who’s ridding coach?" Donna stepped up beside Cindy to check the duty roster for the flight.

Cindy flipped over a sheet and pointed. "Karen, Brenda, and myself, you and Bridget are first class section."

"K." Donna ducked into the boarding tunnel.

I followed her on. "Donna, I can work coach if one of the other girls wants to work first class."

Donna had dropped an overhead and was putting her suitcase and overnighter away. "Hand me your bags."

Picking my suitcase up, I shoved it in beside Donnas. The overnighter followed. "Thanks."

She walked into the galley and was putting equipment in its place. "Bridget, every girl in this company will rotate coach and first class."

She stopped and turned to look at me. "Except one. Look in the mirror hon. Atlantic isn’t called Sky Hooters because it has men serving meals and drinks. Every flight you have been on, the men have been dragging their tongues when they left the plane. You want to know what the number one question has become as the passengers buy their tickets?"

"Well, yes, they want to know if it’s going to be on time." That was the question everyone always asked me as they climbed on our little commuter out of Salt Lake.

"No doll, they really don’t care if it ever arrives if Bridget is serving. The number one question the past few days has been, is Bridget on this plane. The question that immediately follows, is she in coach or first class. Men are changing their tickets from coach to first class. If you think the brass hasn’t noticed then you are mistaken."

Donna pointed back down the boarding tunnel. "Cindy will file a late slip and it will never make your personnel jacket. The brass will round file it as it crosses their desk. With the passengers changing their tickets and the extra money it brings in, the brass is going to make sure no complaints are put in your file."

"But I’m no different than any of the other girls." I couldn’t believe what Donna was saying.

"Oh? Name one other flight attendant with a forty four, um, what, twenty two, thirty six, or thirty eight measurements. If that wasn’t enough, you don’t mind wearing heels and flirting with the passengers."

Someone behind me wrapped their arms around me and nuzzled in my ear before I could protest.

"And she feels good too."

I recognized the voice. "Hello Captain. You flying this bird today?"

"I sure am. What’s on the breakfast menu, I didn’t get a chance to eat." Sam released me as he stepped up beside me.

I started to pick up our manifest to see what our flight menu would have on it. "I haven’t looked yet. Let me check. You want it now or after lift off?"

"Now would be great." Sam took me in his arms and planted a big one on me.

I started to pull back and then thought why not? I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in as I returned the kiss. It was a mistake. I felt my heart race into my throat as electricity filled the air.

There was a cough behind Sam. "When you two think you can disengage we might think about getting organized in the galley before liftoff."

Sam had a twinkle in his eyes as he turned me lose and backed up. "Nag, nag, you would think she owns this company. By the way, dessert was great. I’ll have a sweet roll and coffee for breakfast after we are off the ground."

Donna sighed. "Thanks for giving the crew an official welcome aboard, Captain. Did she pass your inspection?"

"Put a cork in it, Donna. Jealousy doesn’t become you." Sam turned and gave Donna a kiss on the cheek.

"Yes, my captain. Now get out of the slaves quarters before I Shanghai you and make you take my place."

Sam was moving toward the cockpit. "I’m going, I’m going. Mutiny already and we haven’t even left the dock yet."

I could hear footsteps coming down the boarding ramp. My nerves were still strung tighter than a high wire act. Picking up the passenger manifest I glanced over at Donna. "I won’t steal him from you."

Donna shook her head as she snickered. "Bridget, he’s not mine to steal. Go get him if you feel like it."

It was back to business as I put on my smile and met our first passengers. Donna was standing to the side ready to lead them to their seats if they had trouble finding their way.

It was an easy flight out to Los Angels. Our breakfast run was bagels, sweet rolls, and doughnuts. Donna and I were kept hoping. I finally figured it out. Our customers wanted to see Donna or me wiggle our little tails up and down the aisle. As soon as we sit down someone would buzz for magazines, coffee, movies, music, pillow, blanket, or whatever crossed their feeble little minds. I guess that old airline hostess saying, ‘coffee, tea, or me’ really wasn’t that far off the mark.

After the last passenger deboarded in Los Angeles, Donna sit down and slipped off her heels. She leaned over and was rubbing her feet. "I’m going to find that jerk who thought stewardesses were supposed to wear skimpy little uniforms along with heels and turn him into a toad."

I laughed. My legs weren’t near as sore as before. Although my feet were tired they weren’t killing me like Donna’s obviously were. "A toad isn’t enough punishment for making us go through this."

Donna’s green emerald eyes were sparkling as she looked up at me. "No, you’re right. I’ll turn him into a bitch in heat."

"Worked for me." I mouthed out of the side of my mouth as Sam, Jeff, and Larry came out of the cockpit.

"What worked for you?" Sam glanced over at Donna and then back at me as he moved up beside me and put his arm around my waist.

"None of your cotton picking business." I figured if I told anyone what I thought had happened the past few days, I would be sent off to the mental ward so fast it wouldn’t be funny.

"We going out tonight? I know of a great little place called Lupe. Darn good Mexican food and of course they have American too." Sam was eyeing me waiting for an answer.

"Bridget is headed for San Francisco in a few minutes." Donna injected before I could answer.

"Okay, passing through." Jeff motioned Sam and me out of the way as he and Larry stepped off the plane.

"What’s in San Francisco? Atlantic starting a route there?" Sam turned to look at Donna.

"Bridget is hosting a fashion show there. Atlantic isn’t her only job. She’s a model for Guys and Dolls Magazine along with several other rags." Donna pointed up toward the overhead. "Be a gentleman and pull our suitcases out for us would you please?"

"Sure." Sam reached up and casually moved the suitcases and overnighters to the floor. "What you doing tonight, Donna? Lupe is a great place to eat. They even have a Mexican band."

"Oh? If Bridget is busy then you’ll settle for me?" She turned her head so Sam couldn’t see and winked at me.

"That’s not the way I meant. It was an open invitation to both of you. You game or you going to act like a snotty little sister?" He picked up his suitcase as he waited for an answer.

"Whose turn is it to buy?" Donna pulled her nurse’s shoes out of her overnighter and slipped them on before putting her heels in the suitcase.

"If I remember right, I bought last time. So who do you think should pay?" Sam was waiting on Donna.

Donna motioned for me to follow. "Come on Bridget, I’ll point you to your next plane. Uh, is that a trick question, Sam? I mean if we go by salary then you should pay for eight meals for everyone I have to buy."

Sam was laughing as he followed Donna and me off the plane. "Nice try Donna but that stinks like week old fish."

Donna led me down the concourse for what seemed like a mile as she and Sam bantered back and forth who’s turn it was to buy dinner. Finally she pointed off toward a boarding ramp. "Alaska Airways to San Francisco."

She pulled a ticket out of her purse. "Fare trade ticket, Bridget. You get to relax on this flight and let them wait on you."

She leaned up and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she pressed the ticket in my hand. "Keep your cool, doll. I’ll see you in two days."

I was wondering what there was about that fashion show I had to do to keep my cool? I returned the peck on the cheek. "Thanks Donna, you’re my guardian angel."

Sam was feeling through his pockets. "Two days? That better be my flight. Where’s that damn schedule? Morning or afternoon flight? Donna what flight?"

Donna was shaking her head as she turned and was walking back down the concourse. "Come on Romeo. Bridget is a big girl, she can handle a flight without you."

Sam leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "Better be my flight!"

He turned and was trotting to catch up with Donna. "WHAT FLIGHT!"

Okay Bridget, you are on your own and you have a bird to catch. I sighed as I walked up to the desk by the boarding ramp. I handed the ticket to a lady named Janet.

She never looked at the ticket as her eyes scanned me and my uniform. "So you’re Bridget. Welcome aboard Alaska Air, Miss Tonue. You have first seat. Please make yourself at home on the flight. If you want to visit with the crew then you are most welcome."

"Thanks Janet, my legs are tired. We just arrived from New York and I walked all the way. I may sit this one out."

Janet handed me my ticket as she marked arrived on the passenger manifest by my name. "Of course. I know the feeling. We are on time. Liftoff in ten minutes. You were the last one."

She followed me onto the boarding tunnel and closed the door behind us. Sherrie and Donald met us as we stepped on the plane. Sherri held out her hand for the boarding pass. "Welcome aboard Miss Tonue."

I heard a lot of mumbling spread throughout the plane as some of the people started pointing in my direction. I knew what they were looking at. I would have to be brain dead to not understand they were spreading the word it was one of Atlantic’s Hooters girls.

As Donald took my bags and put them up in the overhead, Sherrie pointed toward a seat beside the door. "Please make yourself comfortable."

And I really did make myself comfortable. I sit down in that big ol chair, pulled my hair back up over my right shoulder, buckled my seatbelt, relaxed and immediately went to sleep. The next thing I knew, the tires were squealing as they touched down on the runway.

After the plane pulled up to the terminal, I gathered my bags as the boarding tunnel was docked to the plane. Janet popped the door. "Thank yo…"

I nodded as I stepped off the plane. "I know the speech well, Janet. Thanks for the lift. Have a safe one."

"You too, Bridget."

As I walked into the concourse I was trying to decide what now? I should have asked Donna more questions about what I was supposed to do after I arrived in San Francisco. I don’t know how many people got whiplash as I made my way toward the front but there were more than the average number. I guess Los Angeles and New York had seen enough Atlantic Airlines girls we didn’t create that much of a shock to the system. A lot of it had to do with the uniform. If a Dallas Cheerleader had walked through the terminal wearing her cheerleader uniform I imagine it would be about the same result. Atlantic’s girls dressed the same provocative way.

Someone grabbed the handle to my suitcase and I was ready to deck them as I turned my head and saw a big smile. It was the guy who had been with Morgan that day I saw her.

"I’m Mike, Miss Tonue. Welcome to San Francisco. I have a car and driver out front. Please let me carry your other bag too." He held out his hand for my overnighter.

"Thank you, it was getting heavy." As I handed Mike my bags I checked him out. About six foot four, he was slight built. I would guess him at one ninety to two twenty pounds. Blonde hair, unusual for a man, and no rugged masculine features. I guess one would call him unassuming if I had to put a name to it. As much as I stood out in a crowd, Mike would blend in.

He led me out to a white limousine parked by the curb. Mike opened the door for me and then put my bags in the trunk. He slid in and the driver pulled out into traffic leaving the airport. "Did you have a good flight?"

"The flight from New York was busy as usual but I slept all the way from Los Angeles." I was watching all the familiar sights I had seen a hundred times before when I was flying in and out Salt Lake. Jerry spent a lot of time in San Francisco.

"That’s good. We will make the hotel where you can freshen up. I’ll give you an hour and pick you up. Then you have an appointment with the makeup people. We will go to the Del Casi ballroom for a dry run through the fashion show. You are the MC for most of it. Morgan will take over for the finale. Any questions?" Mike picked up the car phone and was pushing numbers.

He held up his hand when I started to speak. "A minute please. Yes, we picked her up. We are headed toward the hotel now. …… Okay……... Okay……... Got it…….. No, we will be there on time."

"May I have your purse?" He hung up the phone and was reaching inside his jacket.

I thought about it for a second. Well, it wasn’t really mine. It was Morgan’s because nothing was really mine. "Sure."

He opened up the purse and took out the wallet. He put some money in it along with several credit cards and identification cards. "Morgan said you needed a little money. You were down to…, forty six dollars and eleven cents."

"How…?" Look in the mirror Bridget. And I was about to ask how did she know? Duhhh.

"Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to pay her back." I looked into his blue eyes and then turned to look out the window. I almost started crying. Money doesn’t pay back a life. I would never be able to pay them back.

Mike reached over and took my chin in is fingers turning my head so I had to look at him. That was my undoing. Tears started trickling down my cheeks.

"Don’t cry, Bridget. Morgan didn’t do it for the money. After tonight, your debt will have been paid in full."

The first thing that sprang into my mind was, they were going to kill me. That scared the living daylights out of me. As much as Jerry wanted to die, Bridget wanted to live. It scared me bad enough it stopped the tears. How much longer did I have to live? A couple hours? Were they going to use me in one of those death shows where they really kill the actor or actress? So that was what Jerry was saved for? Of course it would be a lot better for ratings thrills if Bridget was killed rather than a guy who was ready to die.

I couldn’t say another word. Every time I looked at Mike my heart started thumping like a runaway train. I was a dead person for I was sure there was no escape. Certainly not from who or what that could do this to me.

The limo pulled up to the Regency Towers. Mike slid out and took my suitcases from the trunk. I finally managed to get out and was standing beside the car. He put the suitcases under one arm and reached out his left hand. "Let’s go check you in so you can get ready."

I was shaking like a leaf as I put my right hand in his open hand. Mike turned to look at me with a puzzled look in his eyes. "Bridget, you okay?"

Speech was beyond me. I nodded my head and let him lead me to the front desk.

"Bridget Tonue checking in. Room key please." Mike held out his hand as he talked to the girl on the other side.

"Certainly. Miss Tonue is in room two fourteen." She dropped one of those magnetic keys in Mike’s hand.

Mike led me to the elevators and then walked me to my room. He opened the door and followed me inside, sitting the suitcases on the bed. "Wear the blue dress after you freshen up."

He looked at his watch. "You have an hour. Are you sure you are okay? You catch a bug or something? You look kind of pale. You want me to send up a doctor or pick up some aspirin for you?"

I shook my head. Funny, they were going to make sure I was healthy before they killed me. Aspirin? Sure, about nine or ten bottles so I wouldn’t feel it coming. Send up a gallon of Jim Beam while you’re at it. I’ll flush the aspirin with lots of whiskey.

"Okay then. I will be back in an hour."

GO DAMN IT! I DON’T NEED TO BE REMINDED A DOZEN TIMES YOU WILL BE BACK TO TAKE ME OFF TO DIE! I wanted to scream at him but my voice wasn’t working.

Mike closed the door on his way out. I fell onto the bed crying my heart out. I wanted to live! Please God let me live! I would have gladly gave them Jerry but not now. Not Bridget! It was almost thirty minutes of crying remorse when I finally decided there was nothing I could do to stop them. I was a sacrificial lamb for the altar. Jerry made a pact with Morgan. He gave her his life and she accepted. Now it was time to full fill the bargain Jerry had made. I pushed myself up off the bed and slid my heels and skirt off for the last time. My jacket and blouse were next. Walking into the bathroom I started the bath and wondered if I could short circuit their plans by drowning myself? No…, Jerry might have had the courage but Bridget didn’t. I dropped my panties and bra, wrapped my hair up in a towel and stepped into the bathtub.

Twenty minutes later, I knew I was running late as I dried off and walked back into the bedroom to pick up my makeup out of my overnighter. It was funny as I thought about it. What could they do to me for being late, kill me? Ha! I was headed that way already. I was wondering if Donna knew about this? She seemed so sincere when she told me she would see me in two days.

I got my face put on along with my panties when there was a knock on the door. I walked over and opened it. Mike was standing there and his eyes kept growing as they darted from my face down to my naked breasts and back to my face. "Uh, I mean…, do you want me to wait outside?"

"No need. I’ll slip into the dress and heels. It will only take a sec. Come on in." I turned and walked back across the room to the closet where the powder blue dress was hanging. A long evening gown, it had sequins and beads in swirls across the bust, diagonally down the front from left to right where it splashed out in sequined and beaded flowers on the right hip. It was no doubt designed to maximize my measurements as the observer’s eyes were drawn from breasts to waist to hips.

Slipping it off the hanger I stepped into it and pulled it up over my hips. It was strapless with a bustier top. I held the top up with my left arm as I shook my hips and pushed with my right to get it to settle in place. I turned my back to Mike as I pulled my hair over my shoulder out of the way. "Zip me up please."

Mike stepped up and zipped me up and then he put his hands on my shoulders. "Bridget, what’s wrong?"

I couldn’t deny everything was all right because it wasn’t. I know he could feel my shoulders shaking under his hands. "Mike, I don’t want to die."

There, I had said it. As hard as I tried not, I was crying again.

Gently he turned me around. He reached up with his right hand and gently wiped the tears running down my chin. "Die? Who has threatened you, Bridget? You’re not going to die. Not if Morgan has anything to do with it. I imagine Mr. Logan would make sure there was hell to pay if anyone hurt you. Give me a name Bridget, or tell me when it happened. No one can threaten you and get away with it."

I was confused to say the least. "Morgan is killing me tonight."

Mike looked astonished as he studied my face. "Morgan? Where did you get that idea? Morgan isn’t going to kill you. She thinks you are the best thing to come along in centuries. Where did you get the idea Morgan would kill you?"

"You did." Why was he trying to deny it? Was it so I would go with him without causing a scene?

"I did! When? I never said no such thing. What were you drinking on that flight up here?" He was blinking his eyes trying to fathom where I had pulled all this up from.

"You said my debt with Morgan would be paid tonight." Why was I having to repeat what he told me?

I was hurt and couldn’t believe it when he started laughing. "Paid in full doesn’t mean she is going to kill you. It means you will have full filled the contract and she will break the agreement. You do the fashion show for her and she will accept that as full payment."

I was in shock. "That’s it!"

"Need there be more? Morgan doesn’t need for money or things of material value. She enjoys people. In Jerry she saw something of value." He was watching my eyes as he spoke.

"Jerry had nothing of value. He had lost everything. His life was over."

"No, you’re wrong. Look in the mirror, Bridget. There was gold in Jerry. A beautiful person who only needed a little help was dying to live."

Slowly I closed the distance and wrapped my arms around his neck as I laid my head up against his chest and cried. "Thanks, Mike."

He wrapped his arms around me and held me as I cried. "Thank Morgan, I had nothing to do with it."

I finally managed to get my emotions under control to a limited extent. I backed up and looked for tissue. "I’m sorry, I think I ruined your jacket."

He glanced down and brushed at the wet spot and the makeup I had wiped on his suit. "No problem. No harm done. I have another in the room. Get your shoes on, dry your eyes, and let’s go see about turning the world on its ear at a fashion show."

"My makeup is messed up. Give me a minute to put myself back together." I pulled a handful of Kleenex out of the holder as I slipped on my heels.

"No time. Dry your eyes. Let’s swing by my room for a change and see if LeAnn still has that limo waiting downstairs." He opened the door behind him as he was speaking. "Donna said it was impossible to get you there on time. Let’s go, Bridget. The makeup people will want to do it over anyway."

I picked up my purse off the bed as I headed for the door. "This black purse doesn’t go with this dress."

Mike crossed the room to the closet and lifted a bolero jacket off the hanger that matched the gown. He walked out behind me closing the door. "Bridget, I promise with the dress you are wearing, no one is going to be looking at your purse."

In the hall, I stopped, put my hands on my hips and turned around to look at Mike. "I look nice?"

"Nice? Damn Bridget, you look…, Let me put it this way. If there is any competition your equal I have yet to see her." He shook his head as he walked over to the next room and opened the door.

"Give me a minute." He disappeared into the room.

I think he took a little longer but not much. He was back and had changed into a different suit. Mike held out the bolero jacket for me to slip into before he pushed the elevator button. He was looking at his watch before the elevator arrived. "Donna was right. She said it would take a miracle to get you there on time. We are late."

He held out his hand. "I also agree with you, the purse clashes with your dress. Let me carry it for you."

I was thinking, strange request for a man, as I handed him my shoulder purse. "Sure."

As I watched, slipping the shoulder strap up on his shoulder was natural to Mike. He either carried a lot of camera equipment with straps or he was like me, started life as something other than what he was now.

He held open the doors on the elevator after it reached our floor. "Let’s go see how many people came to a fashion show."

The hem on the sequined dress wasn’t long enough to drag the floor so I didn’t have to hold it up. However it’s human nature to want to do something with the hands if they aren’t occupied. I hung onto my coat as we walked out of the elevator, through the lobby, and to the limo.

We were headed across town as I did the best I could with my makeup. Riding along in a car isn’t the place to be sticking a sharp eyeliner in the eye and trying to define the eyes. Mike offered to help and I accepted. He was an expert and definitely had done this before as he rested the heel of his hand against my cheek and did my eyes. I wanted to ask if he had been she but didn’t. It wasn’t a question one asked another person.

It gave me pause to think and I remembered that first evening I met Morgan. "Mike, I think I remember Morgan saying her fashion show was going to be in Rio. Of course I was in kind of a mental meltdown so she could have said, San Francisco."

"She did say Rio. Morgan pulled in a lot of favors to get this San Francisco showing. Shi Kasonsu originally set up this show you are attending. He swapped with Morgan and is doing her show in Rio." Never looking up, Mike opened up a laptop as he spoke.

"Why?" It was a non question because I had no concept of what made a fashion show except what I read accidentally in some magazine. Common sense told me they were a combination of long range planning, hard work, and intensive arm twisting to get the fashion show blurbed in all the right papers.

"Because Mr. Logan asked her to."

"Again, why? What’s so special about San Francisco?" I was having a conversation with Mike about something I had no idea of, and the reasoning was out of my mind’s grasp. I should have let it drop. I was out of my depth.

Mike stopped typing and looked at me for a long time before he spoke. "Mr. Logan asked her to change to San Francisco because he likes you. He said you deserved to find out. Morgan disagreed but she hasn’t been around you for the past two days like Mr. Logan and Horace have."

I wanted to ask questions but I didn’t know where to start. It was like waking up in the middle of a barroom brawl and not knowing who started the fight. The best move is to not move.

Mike looked out his window as he took a deep breath. "You will met some people here tonight. Stay cool and don’t…, Just don’t is all."

"Who am I going to meet?" Finally some solid information I could relate to.

"You’ll know when you meet them. Mr. Logan must like you an awful lot. He put out a lot of effort to have these people found." Mike turned his attention back to his computer.

"Who? Mike, tell me who?" It was to no avail. Mike had stopped answering questions.

LeAnn stopped the limo in front of a huge building. There were six or eight policemen inside a roped off corridor holding back a throng of people Mike closed up his laptop. "Bridget, wait for me to open your door."

Before Mike could maneuver himself into position a young man opened my door. He held his hand out. "Please, allow me."

As I turned in the seat, I placed my left hand in his, and stood up. It felt awkward but from a distance, I guess it looked chivalrous. Mike stood up beside me, turned and held out his arm. I arraigned my hair before I slipped my left arm up in his as I gently rolled my right fingers into my skirt and slightly lifted. In my mind, I was thinking, pomp and grace were more for show than for ease of doing something. I never knew ladies had it so difficult to look elegant. It wasn’t easy for sure.

Mike gave a slight nod. "Perfect, Bridget. Shall we go in?"

"I think that’s why we came." I knew it sounded like sarcasm as soon as it left my mouth.

He chuckled as he led me toward the building. "But of course."

"Is that one of Morgan’s gowns?" Came from the crowd as we walked toward the building.

"That’s Bridget Tonue. Miss Tonue could you please remove the coat?" Miss Tonue, please?"

Mike stopped. "They want pictures of you and Morgan’s gown. Let me hold your jacket while you give them what they want."

They were taking pictures as I slipped out of the jacket and handed it to Mike. They wanted pictures of a dress? Who was wearing it was probably immaterial? I put my right hand on my hip as I rolled my hip out. I slid my left up under my hair behind my head and lifted ala Marilyn Monroe pose. I was wishing I had put my makeup back together at the hotel but it was too late. Not to late for the prerequisite coffee, tea, or me smile though.

There was rash of clicks and a crash over to my right. Mike and I turned to look. A guy had dropped his camera but not his attention. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Mike leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I think you got his attention."

Laughing, I winked at the man. "Honey, they work better if you don’t bounce them around on the ground."

It was a mistake. The crowd turned into a mob as each one of the reporters tried to get personal attention. Photographers and reporters were screaming questions at me I couldn’t hear. Mike put his arm around my waist and urged me for the building as the police did their best to restrain the mob.

Morgan was waiting as Mike led me inside the building. She held out her hand. "You look absolutely stunning."

I took her hand and leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "With all my heart, thank you for my life."

Morgan took a step back as she held my hand. She was looking into my eyes. "Logan said you were a surprise. You certainly are. You are released from the contract, Bridget. You may leave now if you like. LeAnn will drive you back to the airport, no questions asked."

"May I stay? Mike said I had a job as master of ceremonies for the event. I mean, if you will still allow me that is." There was no way I could repay Morgan for my life but I did want to stay. Mike had told me Morgan had changed shows for me and I was going to meet some people. Curiosity as to what the evening held probably was as big a reason for staying as my life debt to Morgan.

"You think I may change you back?" Morgan was wondering why I didn’t take her up on her offer to leave.

"God I hope not! Jerry isn’t going to prison for something he didn’t do. I’ll kill myself first." It scared me she may actually bring Jerry back.

"Hummm, I see. Let’s go through a practice run then if you are ready. Mike, take her to makeup and them meet me on stage." Morgan took another look before she turned and walked off.

Mike put his arm around my waist and urged me for one of the hallways leading off the entrance. "Let’s see what makeup can do that I couldn’t shall we?"

Wrapping my arm around his waist I walked along with him. "Mike, what is Morgan and the others? Are they witches, or magicians, or aliens or what?"

"None of those, Bridget. They are gods."

That shocked me and I stopped short. "You’re kidding? You mean God?"

Turning lose of me, Mike turned his head to look at me. "No, not The God. They are lesser deities. Morgan? She is Laluhala, the Polynesian goddess of spring. She is the fresh start to the season or life if you want to look at it in that respect."

Holding out my right hand I took a look at the long slender fingers, the long sharp nails, and delicate hand. "Fresh start is one way of saying it. There is no way I can repay her for what she’s done for me. I don’t know if I would have picked this particular way to start over but it’s agreeable."

Mike motioned with his left hand as he put his right arm around my waist again. "Do you think it will ever be possible to get you any place on time? Makeup is waiting."

Walking along with Mike I had a million questions to ask. "Mr. Logan, Horace, and the rest of the tenants at Deity Arms are gods also?"

"No, not all of them." Mike never hesitated.

"Is Donna a god?"

"No"

"A Leprechaun?" I wouldn’t swear she had magical powers but she sure seemed to know a lot.

Mike shook his head. "Everyone knows Leprechauns are small men, not girls or women."

"Yeah, and gods are fairy tales too. When one myth is broken then all the rules are banished." I gave Mike an extra one arm, heart felt hug as he steered me into a room full of people.

We did makeup and along with makeup they swept my hair up and into a twist style on my head. Mike took me into a huge banquet room with a runway where we went through a dry run for the evening’s fashion show. I had a handful of notes and a teleprompter to keep me on track as I described each dress, gown, or costume as the models walked down the runway and back. Of course the models weren’t there yet. Mike was giving me pointers on how fast or slow I should be reading, how much inflections I should be putting in my voice on certain descriptive comments, and my posture as I did my MC.

Men in suits, women in gowns, and lots of people with cameras started filtering into the banquet room at half an hour before seven P.M. Mike took me out to ‘mingle’ with the guests as he put it. It was a shock to hear most of those I was introduced to, already knew me. "Oh, I saw your picture on the front of Culture magazine last week." "So pleased to meet you, Miss Tonue I loved the article on In Edition" "You’re as beautiful as your pictures and that gown has to be a Morgan original. I have to add it to my must have list."

At ten after seven Mike escorted me back to the podium and five minutes later gave me an introduction. I don’t remember all of it but it began. "Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Morgan’s San Francisco Fashions Show. Our master of ceremonies this evening is the lovely and talented, Bridget Renee Tonue….,"

One at a time, Mike escorted the models out from behind the stage. I would describe the dress, or gown as the model walked down the runway and back. Mike than escorted her off the stage and brought back the next one. I thought Mike added a lot of class to the show.

The fashion show was a lot of fun. Jerry had done more than his fair share of business promotions and presentations and this was the same thing. Only difference was, instead of software, I was promoting designer dresses, evening gowns, and leisure wear for the well to do woman. I knew Morgan’s designs would be copied and put on the discount rack in less than a week. Heck it was the same thing in software. Pirates are pirates whether it be designer clothes, software, or anything of value to copy and sell.

At the closing of the show I introduced Morgan. It dawned on me as I was introducing her, she only used the name Morgan and no other name. "Ladies, and our hostess for the evening. Morgan."

Morgan stepped up to the podium as everyone rose and gave a rousing round of applause. "Thank you Bridget. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming this evening. I hope you enjoyed…,"

I walked backstage and slipped off my bolero jacket and slipped on white opera length gloves. I was carrying my jacked on my shoulder as Mike escorted me back on stage as Morgan mentioned my name.

"And here she is one more time, Miss Tonue wearing a powder blue, silk, floor length evening gown. The gown has a bustier top. The design on the dress is by Dasher, hand sewn seed pearls and sequins. The dress is accessorized with a matching bolero jacket which carries the same design as the dress. For any occasion…,"

Mike stopped at the edge of the runway. I kept going and halfway down dropped my jacket to one of the photographers taking pictures. Except for Morgan talking as she described the dress, it became deathly quite in the banquet room. Everyone was wondering if I had made a mistake. A twelve thousand dollar outfit and I had tossed the matching jacket for it.

I pulled off my right glove as I walked to the end of the runway. I tossed it out to the audience. The photographers went wild taking pictures as everyone screamed. They had finally figured out I was either going to tease them or I was a striptease act. I rolled off my left glove and tossed it. The audience roared in excitement.

Looking back at Morgan she nodded approval to continue as she had prompted me before the show. I bent over, put my hands on my knees, stuck my butt out and wiggled my shoulders at the photographers in front of me.

They were ready. Cameras flashed, smiles spread from ear to ear, and the audience screamed, ‘more’. I turned around to the other side of the runway and did the Marilyn pose for them as I shifted my hips to the right, put my right hand on it and put my left hand up under my hair. The crowd went wild as they screamed. Every girl knows that pose exaggerates all the curves. The hips look even wider than they are, the breasts are pushed up and out as the left arm is brought up and back, and the waist becomes an optical illusion of tiny as it’s lost between. Marilyn knew what she was doing and so does every girl who follows her.

I turned and strolled up the runway where Mike was waiting to escort me off the stage. I was wondering if the guys who had the gloves would keep them or toss them in the trash. What can a person do with one glove? What about the guy who got the designer jacket? Would he buy the dress so he could have the outfit or would he toss part of a twelve thousand dollar outfit? Would Morgan’s idea of a burlesque finale make front page news or be a bust. Okay, so it was a partial burlesque. I didn’t really strip.

Morgan kept a running dialog going as she thanked everyone for coming while I changed into the wedding gown that had been in Morgan’s apartment. It only took a couple minutes to shed the powder blue gown and step into the white satin, strapless, wedding dress. The dress was absolutely, stunningly gorgeous. I still thought it was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. Delicate brocade, seed pearls, and lace covered the bodice of the dress. My breasts were delicately poised wrapped in white satin. The full skirt bellowed out in radiant glimmering white satin. There was a ten foot long train attached.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the finale for the evening, once again, Miss Tonue." It was Morgan’s cue to me.

My arm was through Mike’s left as he escorted me back on stage. I could hear a couple gasps as I walked up to the runway. There would be no striptease act this time. Morgan wanted nothing but class and I was determined to do my best. Mike handed me a bouquet of white roses as I stepped out to center stage. The dress rustled with every step as I begin my journey down the runway.

"The wedding dress is white satin. The bodice is delicately embroidered with white satin. The…"

I lost Morgan as I walked down the runway. I could only imagine the ultimate dream of any little girl would be to be wearing a wedding dress similar to the one I was wearing as she walked down the aisle of a huge church as the man of her dreams waited at the alter. I was wondering if Kelli ever made that trip after she abandon me? Ironic wasn’t it? Although I didn’t have the man of my dreams waiting at the end of my walk, I had switched places and was now wearing what Kelli would have, provided we married.

I never saw the flashing cameras nor heard Morgan as she described the gown. I was lost in my own world. I have no idea if I did it right or not but a reality check came home when Mike took my arm, leaned over and whispered in my ear. "May I have this dance?"

"What? Oh, I guess. Did we do it already?" I was trying to figure out if I had made the walk or not?

"We did." Mike escorted me backstage and a couple girls unfastened the train.

The models were headed back out to the banquet room to mingle with the guests as Morgan stepped backstage where Mike and I stopped. "You did it perfect, Bridget. I imagine I will receive the reviews I was hoping for. I couldn’t have done it without you."

"Thank you, Morgan. You are too kind. I know you would have managed with or without me. It was kind of you to say so though." I was studying Morgan as I answered her. I had no idea what a god should look like but maybe they should look like her. I had thought of her as Arabic when I met her that first day. After what Mike had said I realized she was Polynesian. Tan skin tone, high cheekbones, dark eyes, beautifully arched eyebrows, long lashes, sweetheart lips…, a Hawaiian goddess for sure.

She smiled as she nodded toward Mike. "Let’s go work the clients, Bridget. See if we can’t get a few more lines of ink printed about the show."

"Sure." Holding up my skirt I followed her out to the banquet room where Morgan’s other models were already "working" the press and the clients.

Morgan led me over to a cluster of six men. "Gentlemen, you like the show? Ben, Pete, I want you to meet, Bridget Renee."

One of the other men held out his hand for a handshake. "I’m Earl, editor of the Coming Times. I saw your pictures in Guys and Dolls. Rumor has it you are going to be Morgan’s calendar for next year. Care to comment?"

I took his hand and I bet my eyes glazed over because I was lost. Before I could make a fool out of myself and say, ‘I have no idea what you are talking about’ Morgan stepped in and took me off the hook. "Hopefully, Bridget is doing a calendar layout for the coming year for my company but it hasn’t been inked yet. She has a tentative with Casual Magazine for the April issue. I’m sure she would be glad to talk to you about her coming schedule but would you try and focus on this evening."

Another man looked hurt before he smiled and winked at me. "I thought that was what we were doing? Focusing on the evening that is. And a lovely evening it is too, Morgan. You always have the most beautiful girls in your shows. Bridget is one of the most exquisite models you have shown us to date."

"And her gown? That is the reason you came isn’t it, Jimmy, to look at my new line of gowns?" Morgan reached over and touched my dress for emphasis as she spoke.

The man she called Jimmy stared at me for seconds before he answered. "Morgan, your designs are the best, that’s a given. But you can’t deny you put damn beautiful ladies inside those gowns to make every woman who sees them think she could look just as good if she bought your dress."

A smile spread across Morgan’s face. "Jimmy, you think I would be as devious as that? I’m hurt you would suggest such an idea."

"Morgan, I not only think you would, I know. Now tell me how I can do the same. I want Bridget for a layout in Travel Treasures." He reached in his pocket, pulled out a business card, and handed it to Morgan.

I had never thought of models as a merchandising gimmick but I guess they are. I also never thought of models needing a business agent to handle their schedules but I guess they do, just as Jerry needed a secretary to schedule his appointments. One of the reasons I had never given any thought to any of these things was because up until today, I never considered myself as a model. But then I hadn’t given very much thought to what I was. Was I a flight attendant? I had the uniforms but no schedule except Donna walking me up and telling me I was late for my flight. I guess when it came down to it, I was here and nothing else.

"Gentlemen, if you want to work Bridget into any photo ops I strongly suggest you contact her agent. Jimmy, I’ll pass along the message and your card. Come Bridget I want you to meet Lynn Johnston." Morgan took my hand and was urging me over to our right.

Morgan led me over to where a woman was talking to a group of men. She pointed to the lady. "Bridget, this is Lynn Johnston who writes for Fashionable Times. Lynn, this is…"

The lady had turned her attention to us when Morgan started to introduce us. "I know who she is. You needn’t introduce us."

Lynn gave me the once over from head to toe. "Everything I have heard is true. A few days back an associate dropped Guys and Dolls on my desk and told me to take a look at the new face. She said Bridget was going to be a household name within six months. She’s probably right."

"Morgan, your gowns are sure to send a few wags running to the boutiques. If I had any hope of filling it out like Bridget does, I think I would be tempted to spend this years income on one myself."

"Thank you, Lynn. Does that mean you will say something nice in your review tomorrow?" Morgan touched my gown for emphasis.

"Well, I don’t know. You let me borrow Bridget’s powder blue gown for the charity ball next week and I’ll write two columns about your show." Lynn’s eyes were gleaming with mischief as she glanced from me to Morgan.

Morgan laughed as she shook her head. "Lynn, I hate to tell you this but you’re dreaming if you think you can wear the same gown Bridget is wearing."

A smirk spread across Lynn’s face. "That hurt, Morgan. Just for that, I’m only going to write one column about your show. The second column will be about Bridget and the gown she’s wearing."

"I really didn’t see anything here worth writing about."

My heart jumped up in my throat as I recognized the voice behind me.

Morgan and I turned around at the same time. I must have run a thousand options through my mind in less than a heartbeat. Murder, killing them with my bare hands, jumping on them and beating the holy shit out of both of them, screaming at them they had ruined my life, damning them for eternity…, Then I took a second look at the woman, she was but she wasn’t. I mean the face was her but her body…? She always had beautiful platinum blond, shoulder length hair. The woman in front of me had mousy brown, short cropped hair and her bust was anything but the one I remembered.

He was the same though. Nothing had changed about him. He still had the weasel smile and his eyes were devouring me with the same look he had cast upon all the women who worked under him. I knew his thoughts better than he did. He was trying to figure out how to get me in his bed for a romp under the covers. If that wasn’t an option then he would settle for getting in me from any position.

"Bridget, I want you to meet, Robert and Nancy Drake. Mr. Drake is an advertising executive and his charming wife, Nancy is a florist." Morgan pointed with her left hand in their direction.

"nancy? married? Drake?" I was choking down every word as my mind fought with what I was hearing. When we were living together it was Kelli Stalwart and she was platinum blonde with a forty, twenty six, thirty six figure on a five seven frame. The face was the same but this woman was what, a thirty four, twenty eight, thirty six?

"She doesn’t seem too bright does she? She always repeat everything?" Nancy reached out with her right hand and prodded my left breast. "They look so fake. I had some done by Dr. Ketchner and they were so realistic it was impossible to tell."

She cupped her right breast with her right hand. "I had the inserts removed. Men fell all over themselves talking to my tits and they could never stop staring. Men are so stupid. I had one who wanted to marry me because I had large breasts. I should have left them with him and he could have married them. He would have lived happily ever after."

Reaching over with her left arm she wrapped it around Robert’s waist. "My husband isn’t that shallow. He married me because he likes me not my tits. Don’t you honey?"

I wanted to scream at her, Robert married her because she helped him screw me out of my business, my money, and my life. Money was the key word for sure. "You have one in a million, Nancy."

"I sure do…, Bridget is it? That your stage name? It sounds so shallow. Kind of artificial like your tits." She smiled. "No offense of course."

My god! I couldn’t believe I was in love and had asked this bitch to marry me at one time. Why was she trying her best to slice and dice me now? "No of course, no offense taken."

"When you get tired of men following you around wanting to feel your tits then call Dr. Ketchner. He is the best in the business and he can remove those breast implants you have without leaving any visible scars." Nancy looked into my eyes to see if she had struck a nerve yet.

"Thank you dear. You’re so kind to give me special advice." I wanted to deck her. Instead I managed to bring up my, coffee, tea, or me smile.

"Bridget has more than beauty going for her. For a few thousand dollars, she purchased an option in a software company that should come up on the market in a few months. She scooped the competition." Morgan nodded in my direction.

"I know something about software. Used to own a software company myself at one time. Got out at the right time. Sold it for millions. What’s the name of the company you picked up, Bridget?" Robert had joined in the conversation.

Morgan looked over at me. "I forgot what you told me the name of that company was? Uh, Not Lotions…? No that doesn’t sound right. Let’s see. Hot Topics? Sure that’s it. Hot Topics."

I was positive I was in shock. I know Nancy and Robert were, they both turned white.

"Hot Topics? How much did you pay for the option?" Robert coughed out after he found his voice.

"Well, Bridget told me not to tell but she said she paid sixty thousand for all the software rights and the rights to purchase the name. I understand the company machinery and many of the personnel are still available to begin production. I only wish I had been notified of the offer. Bridget is going to make millions on that transaction." Morgan shook her head in disgust at a missed opportunity.

A smile spread across Robert’s face. "Small world isn’t it. That was the company I owned at one time. Listen you need a partner and I already know all about that business. Sixty thousand did you say? I could go for half at thirty thousand? Of course the profits would be fifty fifty but you could run the office."

I wanted to stick my finger down my throat and puke. How I ever let these two con artists close to me once before was beyond my reasoning. What had I been thinking? "Uh, that’s very kind of you Mr. Drake. I’ll keep it in mind if the option goes through."

"No need of waiting to see. I’ll take a gamble on a fifty percent share for thirty thousand. I’ll write you a check now." Robert was reaching inside his jacket for his checkbook.

"No, I’m sorry but I can’t take your money at this time. It wouldn’t be right. If it fell through then I would feel I owed you for talking you into sharing in a shaky agreement." I was thinking if I had a gun I would shoot both of them and put them out of my misery right here and now.

Morgan nodded at me as if she knew what I was thinking. "Bridget also bought some sort of well drilling invention, or equipment or whatever. She was trying to describe it to me but I didn’t understand it. The only thing I understood was if she could find the backing then it would make her rich."

"What kind of well drilling equipment is it, Bridget?" Robert’s curiosity had been pricked.

"Uh, well, it, hard to explain. Easier to show someone rather than explain it." I was running through my mind all the trash I had read about anything to do with drilling and it wasn’t much.

"Uh, it, that is, it’s called a core bore." I was desperately searching though my memory for anything I could think of about drilling.

"That wouldn’t interest us, would it darling." Nancy faked a yawn of disinterest as she put her hand up against her mouth.

"Probably not. Doesn’t sound like much. What is it supposed to do?" Robert glanced over at Nancy for a second before he turned back to me.

"Uh, well, it ah it works without all the equipment one normally associates with drilling rigs. Like I said, hard to describe. I guess it you might say it would be kin to sending an electric drill down into the ground." I was floundering as I searched my mind for ideas and wondering why Morgan had sent me down this path.

"I see." Robert looked at his watch. "It’s been interesting….,"

"I’m investing everything I own in Bridget’s Core Bore enterprise. I’ve seen a test and they tell me they will do a real bore in search of raw energy or oil in a few days now if they can get enough cash to keep it going." Morgan’s eyes were gleaming as she enthusiastically pitched my imaginary drilling proposal.

"How much are you investing, Morgan? I mean, not that I would be interested but I was curious." Robert hesitated for a second.

"I had two million and borrowed two more to invest. I know this is going to be the next revolution in energy production. Core Bore will make Bridget the richest person in the world and I’m going along too." Morgan had sweetened the bait.

I had no idea what Morgan was fishing for. The only thing I was positive of Nancy and Robert were the intended victims of these fabricated lies.

Nancy pulled on Robert’s arm. "Let’s go dear. I have a terrible headache and all this business talk is making it worse."

Reluctantly Robert agreed. "Sure hon. Morgan, you have a business card?"

Morgan reached out her hand with a business card. "Call me anytime, Mr. Drake."

I watched as Robert took the card and walked out with Nancy. "Morgan?"

"Later, Bridget. Mingle hon, mingle. These people may have shown up because it was my show but it was you they wanted to see with their own eyes. Be nice to them Bridget. I need to sell a few more gowns to pay for this extravaganza. It is never cheap to put on one of these shows and this one was twice as expensive because of such short notice. Smile at the photographers and visit with the fashion writers for another few hours."

Several hours later, tired wasn’t the word for how I felt. After LeAnn drove Mike and me back to the hotel. I was totally exhausted. In my room I slipped out of the wedding gown, hung it up and died before I touched the top of the bed.

There was a knock on my door. Opening my eyes I looked for a clock but there wasn’t any. It was bright outside so the sun was way up. My wrist watch had been left with my black purse and that was? I had no idea. Again there was a light knock on my door. "I’m coming. Give me a minute."

I didn’t pack a housecoat so I pulled the top cover off the bed and wrapped it around me before I opened the door. A maid was standing there. "You are not ready for me to clean your room?"

"No, do you mind? Can you come back in thirty minutes? I’ll be dressed. Do you have the time?" I was wondering how long I had slept.

She glanced at her watch. "Of course. It’s twelve fifteen."

"Thanks." I had slept most of the day away already. It didn’t take me long to drop the cover on the bed, run a quick bath, and find a shimmering green, polyester dress in my suitcase. It took even less time to slip on pantyhose, bra, and a slip before stepping into the green dress. The dress had long sleeves, and rather daring hem. I added four inch white heels and diamond earrings along with a choker. I found enough makeup in my overnighter to halfway get my face on before I headed out the door.

I had no idea where to go so I headed for the elevator and lobby. Mike was waiting there. He rose off the couch and headed across the room toward me. "Afternoon, Bridget. You certainly look like a model."

"Thank you, Mike. You look nice this morning." I honestly meant it as Mike had on a brown suit and a gray tie. Something of a rarity in our age of casual dress.

He swung a white purse strap off his shoulder and handed the purse to me. "Your purse."

"Thank you again. Is it your job to look out after me?" I was curious how he seemed to always know what I was needing.

"Let’s go into the dinning room, order something to eat, and talk." He motioned me toward a hallway leading off the entry.

"Sure." I took the purse and slid the strap up on my shoulder as I slipped my left hand into his right. It felt like the natural thing to do.

Glancing in my direction, Mike smiled. "You are amazing."

"How’s that?" I had no idea what was amazing.

He never answered as he walked with me over to a table and slid out a chair. "Please."

I sit down in the offered chair as Mike walked around the other side of the table and sit down. He motioned for a waiter and ordered two lunch specials without ever looking at a menu. When the waiter had left, Mike took a deep breath as he studied me. "Here goes. Bridget, Morgan wondered why you didn’t get upset when you met Nancy and Robert last night?"

"Upset? Upset? I was absolutely livid. I wanted to jump on them and strangle them with my bare hands."

"Then why didn’t you?" Mike put his elbows on the table, placed his hands together, and rested his chin on his knuckles.

I felt like a kid being examined in kindergarten by the teacher. "Because it wasn’t physically possible. I may have been able to beat the living daylights out of Kelli or Nancy as she calls herself now but Robert could have took one swipe and knocked me senseless. Bridget isn’t a prizefighter in case you haven’t noticed."

"You didn’t retaliate against Nancy’s sarcasm’s. Again, why?"

"I was a representative of Morgan. Nancy may or may not have been buying Morgan’s gowns. The fact was, what Nancy did or didn’t do was immaterial. There were dozens of reporters there who would have jumped all over the case if I had gone ballistic. I was there as a guest of Morgan. Guests don’t air their dirty laundry in the hosts home."

"I see. Morgan was impressed and that was the reason she baited the trap for you. The rest is up to you." Mike picked up his napkin and spread it out as the waiter set down a couple glasses of water.

"I don’t follow. What bait? What is up to me?" I was lost in this conversation.

"In your purse are two credit cards, a check book to your checking account with twenty four thousand dollars, and seven hundred dollars in your billfold. You have all the certificates and papers to live your life as Bridget Renee Tonue. You have that life now." He picked up his water and took a sip as he watched me with his eyes.

"There is something else isn’t there?" I had been in enough business meetings to know when there was an incomplete report.

"As I said, Morgan baited the trap. It is up to you to decide if you want to see if you can catch a couple rats. Morgan is out of it from here on. She won’t help you any further. Last night Morgan told Robert you had purchased a well drilling business and needed investors. You added it was a business named Core Bore. Robert has called Morgan four times already this morning wanting to see your business and trying to get information what it’s all about. He smells an opportunity and it’s up to you to see if you can reel him and Nancy in." He waited for me to digest his speech.

"I’m supposed to set up the Core Bore operation to get Robert to invest?" I wanted to see if I had it figured out.

"Yes. The catch is, you are on your own. You will probably max out your credit cards and spend everything you have in the bank to set up the scam. If it fails then you will be in debt for a very long time. It’s a win or lose it all situation. Your call." Mike wiped his hands on his napkin after he wiped the corners of his mouth.

"Revenge isn’t best served up cold. It’s best served up hot. Kelli and Robert stole everything including my life. I think I owe them something extra. I had nothing when Morgan saved me from myself."

I winked at Mike. "Now I have a life. Money isn’t life. I can lose everything but I’m not going to look back and wish I had gave it a shot. I want the opportunity to return the favor to Robert and Kelli or Nancy as she calls herself.

"As you wish. Do you have a plan? Morgan needs to give Robert some samples while he’s still drooling over the prospect."

"Sure. I know a guy in the business…, Okay, Jerry knew a guy in the business. Let’s see…, I need to fly down to Houston to talk to him. He wouldn’t do this over the phone. We will set up a dummy corporation, a downhole shop, and a location in the field." Mike was right, I was going to max out my life to set this up. It was going to take several hundred thousand dollars if not ten times that much to get the sting in place in less than a week.

"When are you going to Houston?" Mike pointed toward me as the waiter set a salad plate down in front of us.

"Immediately. Today if possible. Oh…, do I have a show with Morgan? I mean I’ll…,"

"Morgan has gone to France. You have a flight out tomorrow afternoon on Atlantic from LAX but until then it’s your time." He motioned to the waiter. "Blue Cheese dressing please for the lady and me."

"I need to call the airlines and see about a flight to Houston. Wait, I better call Jim Castle and see if he’s there. He won’t give me an appointment probably but him and Jerry were thick friends. If he’s at the office I’ll fly in and he will see me even without an appointment." I picked up my fork and was taking huge bites of salad as I was talking.

"Bridget?

"Yes?"

Mike pointed his fork at my salad bowl. "I’ll get you to Houston after you make the phone call. Morgan didn’t say I couldn’t help. You’ll have to fly in your Atlantic uniform for me to get you on board. It’s a trade courtesy thing between the airlines. You can take time to taste your meal. Slow down."

My fork was halfway up to my stuffed mouth. Mike was right, I was gulping my meal down in my haste to get my plan started. I laid my fork down as I relaxed. I couldn’t reply, my mouth was full.

I had no idea what I ate for lunch. I was too excited about getting to Houston and talking to Jim. Mike let me pay for our lunch as he made a couple phone calls. I then headed for my room and a change of clothes. I was soon back to looking like an Atlantic stewardess when Mike knocked on my door.

"It’s not locked come on in. I’m dressed." I was brushing my hair as I gathered up my things.

Mike nodded his approval as he walked into the room. "You look professional, Bridget. Here’s the plan. I have a ticket for Houston on American. You can come back here after your meeting or go to Los Angeles. What’s your choice?"

"Los Angeles would probably be a better idea. I’m flying out of there tomorrow back to New York. Save a few air miles. What about a room? They aren’t expecting me there. Maybe I need to come back here? I need to be saving my money for the sting operation if I can get Jim to put it together for me. It’s going to take bunches of money to rent a drilling rig, men, equipment, a shop, office, and have decals printed up for the trucks and equipment so it will look like Core Bore Drilling Company."

Mike walked over and opened my suitcase. "I’ll help you pack so you can switch to Los Angles. You will share a room with Vivian, Atlantic’s room."

"Thanks Mike, I couldn’t do this without you." I pointed toward the wedding gown. "That isn’t going in my suitcase. Where does it go?"

"My job. I’ll take care of it. He emptied the hangers and laid my clothes on the bed so I could fold them into the suitcase.

Mike walked me down to the curb after I had everything packed. He had called for a cab and they were waiting. He put the suitcase in the cab and held the door open with his right hand.

"Thanks for everything, Mike." I leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek before I slid into the backseat of the cab.

"Good luck, Bridget. I really do hope it works out for you. Go to American and the tickets are waiting on you." He closed the door.

The cab driver pulled out before I could answer Mike. I was praying it would work.

The gentleman at American was more than courteous as I approached the ticket counter. "Bridget, we were expecting you. I have your tickets. Do you want to check one of your bags?"

I took the offered tickets as I shook my head. "No, I’m in a hurry and don’t want to have to wait on luggage on the other end. Do you mind?"

"Of course not. It’s a pleasure to have one of Atlantic’s own flying with us. Your plane is almost loaded. They should be closing the doors in fifteen minutes. Have a good flight." He pointed off down the concourse toward his right.

I made it with time to spare even if that plane was parked clear down on the other end of the terminal. Denna was the name of the stewardess taking boarding tickets. She waved me on without even looking at my ticket. "Welcome to American Airlines, Miss Tonue. Hope you enjoy your flight."

Thanking her I walked on the plane and was given a seat next to the stewardess. A few minutes later we were airborne and I was asked to visit the cockpit. I knew why. Pilots are pilots no matter what the name on their uniform says. American, Atlantic, Southwest, they were all the same. They wanted to see an Atlantic Hooters stewardess up close.

I was game so I walked up to the cockpit. "Good afternoon, Captain. May I get you and your copilot a cup of coffee or some juice?"

The pilot turned around to get a good look before he answered. "Coffee would be great, thanks."

The copilot’s eyes kept growing after he turned around for a look. "Uh…, orange juice for me if it’s not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all. How do you like your coffee, Captain?"

"Cream and sugar, please." He was still staring.

I looked over at the navigator. "May I bring something back for you?"

"Sure…," He was eye level with my breasts and I thought his eyes were going to fall out.

"And what would that be? Coffee or juice?" I was thinking, maybe these guys would shift over to flying for Atlantic so they could fly the Hooters Skies?

"Orange juice, I guess." He finally realized he was staring at my breasts and tried to look at my face.

"One coffee, two orange coming up." I walked back to the galley to get their order.

Karen, American’s stewardess met me in the galley. "I can get it for them Bridget. You shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not your job."

"In a way it is. It’s our job to keep the crew and the passengers happy. That’s what we do for a living. Atlantic, American, whatever makes no difference. I know they wanted to window shop the merchandise Atlantic is flying. Don’t worry, Karen I’m not on the market."

Karen kneeled down and pulled a magazine out from the cabinet. She laid it down on the counter and opened it up to the centerfold. I was looking at me wearing a powder blue evening gown. I was tossing the jacket. ‘Bridget Renee Tonue that says it all’ was the caption.

Karen sighed. "I can’t compete with that."

I gave Karen the once over. Angelic face, way above average beauty, and a curvaceous body that would be labeled ‘too hot to handle’ under normal circumstances. "Hon, you can compete with any woman but it would be a lost cause because anyone else would be second best. Which one is on your shopping list?"

"Kyle, he’s the navigator. I can’t get him to get serious." Karen closed up the magazine, Fashion Fortune.

"Are you handing out samples?" I finished the drinks for the crew.

"Sa…, uh…, yes." Karen looked embarrassed.

"That’s a secret just between us. Okay, tell him the market is closed until he proposes." I looked to see if she was going to give it any thought.

"I can’t do that. He can snap his fingers and a dozen women will jump in his bed." She looked astonished I would suggest such a thing.

"Let them jump if that’s the outcome. Why should he offer to purchase the product when he’s getting it for free? You aren’t ever going to get Kyle to propose if he can have what he wants without any commitments. Give it some thought, Karen. And drop me out of the picture. Like I said, I’m not on the market." I picked up the drinks for the crew and headed back to the cockpit to pass them out.

Before the flight was up I had been invited to the rear galley. I knew that was to give American passengers a look at what Atlantic was flying as hostesses. I saw the humor in it, so I did the walk down the aisle to the rear of the plane to chat with the American crew before I returned to my seat.

At Houston I caught a cab to Castle Fishing Tools. Jim didn’t make tools to catch fish, he designed tools to pull lost pipe string up out of an oil well or dry hole. I had to run a gauntlet of secretaries to get to Jim’s personal secretary. I honestly believe if I hadn’t been wearing my Atlantic uniform I wouldn’t have made it past the secretaries. Something about a uniform that says ‘professional’ even if it was skimpy like I was wearing. Jim’s secretary wasn’t giving up Jim for anyone who didn’t have an appointment.

I wasn’t going to give up even if I had to wait for him to come out of his office. "Tell Mr. Castle, Jerry Rands sent me. I have a personal message for Jim."

"Give me the message and I’ll deliver it." Carla wasn’t a gate keeper for nothing.

"I said it was personal. Would you mind calling him and telling him Jerry Rands sent me?"

She looked like she wasn’t going to give up her boss. Finally she capitulated as she picked up the phone. Carla knew Jerry Rands also. She had talked to him on the phone several times. She knew Jerry and Jim were good friends. "A Miss Tonue here to deliver a message from Jerry Rands."

Carla hung up the phone as she motioned toward the door beside her desk. "If you lied to me I’ll make you pay. Mr. Castle said he would talk to you."

"Thanks Carla. Jerry said you were the best secretary Jim could have. I know he appreciates it." I opened the door and walked into Jim’s office.

Jim stood up as his eyes grew two sizes. "You know Jerry? I heard he was dragged into court. How is he?"

"Dead." I knew that would kick this conversation into high gear.

It took a lot longer than I had anticipated to talk Jim into what I needed from him. It was also going to take a lot more money than I had counted on. It was after ten P.M. and everyone had gone home from the office. Jim and I were left alone with the exception of the building security guard. Jim accepted the story I told him with the condition I let him check it out come morning. I also left him a check made out for twenty four thousand dollars. It was everything Mike told me I had in a checking account. Jim gave me a ride back to the airport.

At the airport I gave Jim a kiss on the cheek as he handed me my luggage out of the back seat. Jim looked embarrassed by the kiss. I reached up and wiped the lipstick off with my hand. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you."

He studied my eyes the way he always used to study Jerry’s eyes when we were talking. "I can’t believe it. I mean you look so damn much woman and you act like one too. I’m still thinking this has to be a joke."

"No joke, Jim. And forget Jerry. He had a life and he’s gone. I’m the replacement. I can’t do this without you. Kelli and Robert killed Jerry. They took his life as sure as if they had shot and buried him. I can’t let them get away with it without at least trying to pay them back. Please tell me you will help me." I backed up to give him a little room to think.

Never losing his concentration on my eyes, he sighed. "What can it hurt if you are lying? I mean, this has so many holes in it, no one will buy it so all I’m going to loose is a little money and time. I’ll have Core Bore Drilling Company set up in two days. Send me the fish by Friday at one o’clock, no later. This has to be an up and gone situation no matter the outcome. The government will be all over this if we run it for five days. I’ll have the rig up and drilling, you’ll get your gusher, and four hours later the location will be plowed under to keep the EPA from hauling all of us off to Federal prison for pollution. I can think of three dozen Federal and state laws we are breaking."

"Thanks, Jim. Win or lose, I always thought you were the best friend a guy could ever wish for in any life." I picked up my carryon and headed for the plane as I pulled my suitcase along on its rollers.

"Two days, no longer. After two days we close up shop and I never heard of you."

I motioned I heard him as I headed for the plane. Jim had said he might lose a little money. That was an understatement. He was going to lose a lot of money if Robert didn’t take the bait. Jim could also lose a lot of money if the government found out sooner than he expected. Maybe even prison if the government caught us. This really wasn’t Jim’s fight. Jim agreed to do it because he was Jerry’s friend.

I made the trip from Houston to LAX on Southwest Airlines. Vivian was sound asleep by the time I found the apartment. I found a hanger for my uniform and the bed in short order and was out of it in seconds.

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Barbie Lee. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.