Page 79 of The Spitfire Girls
Reluctantly, Lizzie entered his office and looked around. She’d been in there many times, but usually she was storming in to demand answers about something. Today she was here as his guest, and it felt different somehow; or perhaps she’d finally glimpsed the real him.
‘Tell me,’ he said, pouring dark brown liquor into two short glasses. ‘Did the army provide those wings you pinned on today?’
She laughed and arched an eyebrow. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think it’s about time the army stepped up. There’s no good reason for you to be buying silver wings for those women.’
She raised a brow at him. ‘You think they shouldn’t have wings, then?’
He passed her a glass, holding on to it even though her fingers had curled around it already. ‘Don’t twist my words. Those women will be flying aircraft for the military, and they damn well deserve their wings and every accolade they get. I just don’t think your pocket should be the one in debt.’
Lizzie knew she’d picked an argument over nothing, but she was so used to constant arguments flaring up for no good reason. ‘I’m sorry.’
He smiled at her over his glass. ‘I’m not sure I heard you correctly?’
Lizzie took a slow sip of whiskey, trying desperately not to splutter. It was like liquid fire sluicing down her throat, and a cough burst from her.
‘Actually, your pain is enough – I won’t force you to repeat it,’ he said.
So she hadn’t fooled him, then. ‘I’m not exactly an experienced drinker of straight liquor, Captain Montgomery. I prefer cocktails and champagne.’
He looked amused as he sat and stretched out his long legs. ‘You do know you can call me Jackson, don’t you? Or Jack – whatever comes easiest.’
Lizzie had been so caught up in trying to prove him wrong and push his buttons, but now she couldn’t help studying him, wondering if perhaps she had never taken the time to see the real him. His blond hair was short at the sides and slightly longer on top, and his skin reflected the hours he spent outside, and his hands ... She sighed. His hands were big and calloused, like those of a man used to real work. She averted her gaze and attempted another tiny sip of whisky. Those hands were strong and capable, and certainly didn’t look like they should be pushing papers in an office.
‘Jackson, then,’ she said.
‘Well, now that’s sorted, why don’t we have dinner and do some work on staying on the right foot, so to speak?’
She struggled not to choke on her drink again, more from being flustered this time. ‘And how many of my pilots have you asked for dinner already?’ she asked. ‘It’s an instant dismissal for dating an instructor!’
Jackson held up his glass and drained it, then made eye contact again. ‘First of all, I’m not your instructor, or theirs, and I haven’t asked anyone else for dinner,’ he said. ‘Christ, what is it with you, being so defensive all the time?’
She didn’t have an answer to that.
‘It’s because you’re used to being the one calling all the shots, personally and professionally,’ he muttered. ‘Honestly, you’re hard to please, Dunlop.’ She smirked. So she was back to beingDunlopalready. ‘It’s only adateif you want it to be a date. Otherwise it’s dinner between two colleagues, nothing more, nothing less,’ he said firmly. ‘Does everything with you have to be so hard?’
Lizzie hated the way she was behaving, but she just couldn’t seem to help herself. ‘Fine. Dinner it is.’
‘Tonight?’ he asked.
She shrugged as if it were no big deal. ‘Sure, why not? It’d be nice to celebrate graduation day.’
Jackson stared at her and then shook his head, chuckling. ‘Shall I pick you up from the Avengerette Club?’
Lizzie braved his gaze. ‘Yes.’
The Club was a special place for all her girls. It was a room above a fabric store that they’d been given by the town of Sweetwater, and all the girls loved going there. The WASPs could play records, chat and dance; there was little else to do.
‘Oh, and Lizzie?’ he said, his eyes softening. ‘I am truly sorry about Polly. She was a great girl and it’s not fair what happened to her.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, holding back tears. ‘She was.’
‘Until tonight then,’ he said, holding up his glass. ‘To Polly.’
Lizzie gulped. ‘To Polly,’ she agreed, feeling guilty all of a sudden for flirting and joking around when her friend wasn’t even with them any longer. ‘She died bravely in the air, and she’ll be missed.’
‘Wow.’
