“Nothing. I just expected someone a little more . . . courteous,” Maddy said, standing taller, looking directly into the glinting mirrored glass of the pilot’s shades.
A tight smile spread across his face. “You’re the one who’s late and you’re talking to me about courtesy?” Tom said, shaking his head. “Angels,” he said, as if to himself, in disbelief. He turned to the hangar. “Now come on, we can stand out here in the sun all day or get to work. You’ve wasted enough of our time.”
“Bu— ” The pilot had already turned and was walking back into the hangar. Flustered, Maddy called to him: “You’ll get paid the same no matter how late I am.”
He spun on his heels, an insulted look crossing his face. “Paid? Ms Montgomery, this isn’t for money.”
The pilot led her to a chipped metal table off to the side of the hangar. An old chalkboard was set up next to it on a rolling stand. The old desk chair squeaked when Maddy sat in it. The young man sat down opposite her at the desk and took his sunglasses off. Maddy was immediately struck by his eyes – they were a deep green. He didn’t blink.
Maddy glanced over at the single-engine Cessna next to them just inside the hangar.
“Is this your plane?” she asked.
“I’m allowed to use it, yes. My normal aircraft is a little . . . faster.”
“So when do I fly?” Maddy smiled, trying to start their relationship over on the right foot.
“You don’t.”
Maddy froze for a moment.
“Not yet,” the pilot continued. “Not until I say so. If I say so.”
Maddy’s eyes blazed rebelliously. Something about this pilot made her flare up inside. “And this is supposed to help me? I’m not sure I need help, anyway. I’ve just got a slow start flying is all.”
“Not from what I’ve heard.”
“Professor Archson said you were good, but I still don’t see how this is going to help me,” Maddy responded after collecting herself.
The pilot rapped his fingers lightly on the metal top of the desk. “I was one of the youngest ever to graduate the Naval Academy, got top marks across the board in all aviation categories, and finished head of my group at the elite U.S. Navy Strike Fighters Instruction Programme. I’ve flown over thirty-two F-18 missions from my aircraft carrier, which is now positioned in Angel City Bay.” His voice was calm and his gaze unwavering as he spoke. Maddy thought she remembered from a Military Channel show her uncle was watching that an F-18 was one of the military fighter jets. The most expensive and prestigious aeroplanes in the fleet.
Tom continued, “Susan apparently thinks you need to learn how a pilot sees, feels and thinks, and she believes I can help. Although, to be honest, that might be pretty hard for somebody like you.”
“You don’t know anything about me, lieutenant,” she said quietly.
The pilot was silent.
“What did I ever do to you?” Maddy said after a moment.
“Do?” Tom asked, his green eyes flecking with grey. “Do you think I want to spend my time teaching some prima donna Angel how to fly when I could be helping someone who actually appreciated it, needed some help? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have a tutor on how to spend money and pose for photographers?”
Maddy eyed him. “Well then, why are you doing it?” she asked.
“Because I have to. Susan asked me. And it looks like you have to as well.”
“You have to? Why?”
“That’s strictly none of your business,” the pilot said.
Maddy crossed her arms. Silence hung heavy in the air between them. A fly buzzed, lazily circling up towards the ceiling.
Tom stood up and walked over to the chalkboard. He flipped it over with a squeak, revealing a side already marked up with chalk. It was covered with diagrams and equations covering aerodynamics, velocity, yaw, trim.
Maddy’s eyes narrowed at the board, her arms still crossed. “I’ve already learned this stuff.”
“Not my way, you haven’t,” Tom said, turning back to the chalkboard. “If you learn this, I can help you wrap your head around how to manoeuvre your body in the air. But if you’re going to be stubborn, you’ll always stay where you started. Which, from what I understand, isn’t the most graceful place.”
Maddy opened her mouth to come back with a snappy reply. But she stopped short as she looked into Lieutenant Cooper’s serious eyes and thought about her struggles on the training course. Maybe he was right. Maybe he could help her manoeuvre her body in the air.