“Is that KC?” Bobby Ann asked.
“It must be,” Erin said, adding, “the big helicopter is still out front, so I don’t know who else it could be.”
“Well, this is getting interesting. What do you think, T? What does your writer’s brain make of this?”
“It would explain why we’re so late getting started. Doesn’t KC fly the evening traffic report?”
They watched as Connie rushed out to the helo the moment the blades came to a stop. The pilot climbed out of the machine, pulling off her helmet and tossing it back inside. It was KC, and she wrapped a sisterly arm around Connie, who led her in via the poolside and not the ballroom doors.
“Something’s wrong,” Bobby Ann speculated.
Teresa, forced to leave her notebook in the dorm, was more attentive than usual. “I didn’t think Ally was bothered by that whole incident with Bloody Mary.”
“No. I don’t think she was either,” Bobby Ann agreed. “Any guess?” she asked Erin.
“Not a clue but at least whatever’s happening, you may get a chance to flirt with KC. That’s gotta be something.”
“Oh yeah!” Bobby Ann said with a grin. “Still, something, as they say, is afoot.”
Teresa groaned. “Okay, Sherlock. How’s about you go suck up to Sandy and see if she has any idea what’s up.”
Sandy, the lead camera, was busy keeping busy.
“Hardly. She’s the one who can’t keep her eyes off you.”
“Really?” Erin asked, surprised by that. The things you learn when you put more than one lesbian in a room. Taking a page from Bobby Ann’s book she challenged, “Go on, T! We need answers, and you have the inside advantage. Go!”
* * *
KC walked with Connie to the indoor pool, where Ally was sitting alone. She looked better than she had sounded when she’d called that morning. “Hey, Al. You okay?”
She nodded, but still didn’t trust herself to speak without breaking down. One of the crew had spent an elaborate amount of time with makeup and concealer, hiding her swollen eyes and red nose. She looked good, or at least normal, but KC knew better.
“Con, why don’t you go get Pam’s dumb ass ready to go. I’ll have a little pep talk with my buddy and meet you…where do you want her?”
“Main door to the ballroom. As soon as I see you guys there, I’ll call Action.” Turning to Ally she promised, “We’re all ready. All you have to do is walk out, take your mark and say your three names. Tommy knows the score. He’s not going to pull you in for a one-on-one. So, no worries, you’ve got this.”
Allyson just nodded, but didn’t make eye contact. That had Connie worried. Still, KC gave her a signal that she would handle things and she was confident she would.
Once she was gone, KC pulled a deck chair over next to Ally. “Fucking women, eh? You can’t live with them, and you can’t shoot ’em.”
That cracked the slightest smirk from Ally. Not because it was funny, it was just KC’s fallback whenever she had woman troubles.
“So, big bad old Pammy played you…again! Fuck, that bitch gets under my skin. I probably woulda killed her by now, but I have a feeling I’ll need her to bail my ass out one day, so it’s a no-win, either way.”
Ally nodded.
Wrapping an arm around Ally’s hunched shoulders, KC was quiet for a few minutes. An eternity for KC. “Listen, I was goin’ to tell you. After that flight you took up to Petawawa with PP3, I don’t know what you said, but that boy’s really trying to straighten out his act. Oh, he’s still an ass, but he finally understands he’s not the boss’s grandkid anymore, and he only has a job as long as we’re happy with him. It’s night and day. So, kudos. Really… Ah, what else… Oh, I got a new tow bar from DeHavilland and topped up the spares. And I worked out a new training rate with Flight Safety for our pilots. I found an old girl, retired from Ward Air, to keep the in-flight crews trained and laid down the law with the ground crew to follow procedures and stop trying to do anything they’re not trained for, but I gotta tell you. We’re going to have to ease up on the one-man, one-job thing. We just don’t have the manpower like the big guys to cover all the bases. What I’m thinking is we create a specialist position that has all the ground jobs covered and work our guys up to that level. Then when we schedule, we can make sure we have at least one full specialist on and three generalists. How’s that sound?”
“Better,” Ally finally answered. “Good.”
“Single-word answers. Well, that’s an improvement. I’m glad, I was worried you’d be pissed I was treading on your territory, but hell, you’re here and what the fuck.”
Ally smiled and nodded. “Thanks, buddy. Sorry you got stuck holding the bag.”
“Ah, it’s nothin’ you haven’t done for me. Remember that time I chased that crazy bitch out west? I thought she loved me. Turned out she was just lookin’ for someone to move her pot.”
“Least it’s legal now.”
“Now, but could you imagine back then? We woulda been fucked. Forget jail time. We woulda lost our operating certificate.”
“Naw. You figured it out in time. Not like me.”
“Hey. Stow that shit! You’re not some doe-eyed dumb kid. You fell for a girl—a nice one the way I hear it. Looks to me the big issue is Pammy. As usual. I don’t get her crap sometimes. I mean she has everything—looks, hot bod, she’s made her name in criminal law, and Connie says she rakes in a cool million a year, not to mention what goes to the partners. Fuck, I’m living in Port Credit because I can’t afford to buy in the city and you’re only doing okay because your gramps unloaded the Admiral on you. Fuck, between the hours you put in with the hotel, our air charters and now the airline, I don’t know when you sleep.”
“I delegate. It’s all that’s saving my skin.”
“Hey, I get that but take a bow, kiddo. The Admiral was a big loser before you took over and we both know there isn’t a helo charter company in the country that can afford to stay in business these days with the way drones are taking over. Fuck, if they ever figure out how to haul a Bambi Bucket to fight forest fires, that’ll be the end of helicopters. Maybe even the air traffic contract we have. I don’t know how you pulled it off. CBC can’t afford a helo, and even Global is in renegotiations with their traffic helo. That A-Star of theirs looks good, but she’s even more expensive to run than our baby.”
“We should reach out to them and offer to carry their crew in the back while you report for Channel One up front.”
“Fuck me, that’s brilliant!”
“It’s just an idea.”
“Yeah, and it’s your ideas that have kept us in business. So smarten up and get this fucking show done and come back to work. This isn’t you, letting some bitch fuck you around.”
“She’s not a bitch! Don’t call her that.”
KC nodded, the grin on her face giving away her tactic. “So, you do like her?”
“Yes, I fucking like her!”
“Whoa Nelly!” KC tried a calming tone. “I was just seeing if she was really someone special to you.”
“She is. Was. But…”
“But you won’t cross Pam? Am I right?”
“Connie asked that I respect what she’s doing and…What else can I do?”
KC nodded, thinking. Finally, she said, “I like the kid, and this is her show. You agreed to play it her way when she schemed you into taking part, so I get you’re in a pickle here so here’s what I’m gonna suggest. Play it Connie’s way. Go out there and name three of those babes, whichever three she said. Finish the week and get back to work. Then and only then, reach out to this Erin. Maybe write one of those brilliant letters you do and lay it out for her. My bet is she’s feelin’ just as fucked by this whole thing and you gotta remember somethin’ else. She works for Pam. Not everyone has family to fall back on like you and me. I bet she’s not just feelin’ the pressure from good old Pam What if she’s worried ’bout losing her job?”
Ally turned to her, lo
oking into her eyes for the first time. “I never thought…”
“Of course not. Don’t beat yourself up. Like I said, we always had the option to bounce home to family when things got tough. Not everyone can. She may be feeling caught in a hard place, like fifty nautical over Superior, with the chip detector blowin’ alarms.”
Understanding KC’s metaphor, Ally took a deep breath and stood. “You’re right. I’m ready. I’ll play this the way Connie wants and then we’re goin’ home to kick our new airline into serious contender gear.”
“Now we’re talking.” KC was on her feet and walking Ally down the long corridor that wrapped around the ballroom. She couldn’t help asking, “By the way, what kind of school has a ballroom?”
“The kind that’s supposed to turn out debutantes.”
“Hmmm… Well, buddy, I gotta say, they fucked up on that score where you’re concerned.”
Ally laughed, finally starting to relax. “You got that right.”
Chapter Twenty
Erin paced in the dorm while Denise stood vigil at the window overlooking the comings and goings at the grand entry below. Charlotte, the third of Pam’s group, was still fussing with her luggage. Last night after the ceremony, they had spent an hour saying their goodbyes to the women who were eliminated. With the bus strike still on, the production team had rented a party bus, a stretched Hummer with plenty of room to take those leaving into Toronto or out to Pearson International.
Last night Erin had prayed that Ally would pick her to be one of her final three, but she hadn’t, and with the wildcard option to choose any queen if selected, she had no choice but to accept or reject Pam’s invitation to join her. In her mind, she knew it was for the best. She had come here to be of assistance to Pam. That, after all, was her job and she had agreed to it. In her heart, she ached to be with Ally, if for no other reason than the chance to explain.
“The limo’s here,” Denise announced.
After a light breakfast without the two remaining queens present, they had been shuffled off to the dorm to pack and wait. They had already watched Ally’s group and their camera team climb aboard her helicopter and take off. In the circular drive, the production vans and crew were busy leaving with all the equipment they needed during their stay at Glendennon Castle. Erin knew it would be just minutes now before a PA was sent to fetch them and make sure they were leaving the dorm as they found it. Mother hen Denise had taken it upon herself to inspect the room and adjoining communal bathroom and declared them fit to leave. All that was left to do was get Charlotte squared away.
“Here,” Erin offered. “Let me help you get those closed.” Charlotte must have packed everything she owned. It took her sitting on each of the three matching suitcases to get the zippers closed around the bulky bags. She didn’t know which of these two women Pam had her heart set on. Denise for sure would be a perfect housewife, managing her home and their social affairs with ease. Charlotte, on the other hand, was a complete disaster in that department, but she was arm candy, and Erin knew how much Pam would adore that kind of woman.
“I wonder what her house is like?” Charlotte asked.
Erin didn’t want to burst her bubble and confide that they would be spending these last few days at the Parker Estate, the home they grew up in, but not where Pam lived and worked. She did wonder what they would do with all the time scripted to be spent introducing the women to friends and associates. In a way, she suspected Pam had had a hand in that. She had no idea if anyone back in Chicago knew she was taking part in some reality TV program. Certainly none the other senior partners. Everyone knew Connie was her sister, so Erin assumed that Pam believed this would take care of the family introductions.
Would her parents fly in to attend the scripted family introductions? If they did, she knew Pam would omit her from the event. The Coens had met Erin many times and didn’t look to be the type of people willing to play along with the subterfuge. Although Pam’s mother was desperate for her daughter to find a suitable spouse, so who knew.
There was a knock at the door; then a PA let herself in. “Car’s ready, ladies. Grab your bags and let’s go.”
She didn’t look to be in the mood to help with the luggage, so Erin grabbed one of Charlotte’s extra bags while Denise grabbed the other. Charlotte ran to the bathroom for one more check of her hair and face, forcing them and the PA wait.
“Come on Charlotte,” she ordered, “let’s not keep Pam waiting.”
Those were the magic words needed to kick Charlotte into gear, and she grabbed her purse, her oversized carry-on and stumbled to manage her remaining suitcase. Rolling her eyes, the PA captured the last bag and carried it while she propelled Charlotte toward the door.
It didn’t take long to get settled into the limo. Charlotte’s bags, of course, were a problem which was solved by loading them in the production van heading to Highland Creek. Sandy and her camera gear were already in the limo, making it a cozy fit. Erin, understanding the stakes for Pam, took it upon herself to sit up closer to Sandy and the assistant director who would be running the shoot at the Parker Estate while Connie traveled with Ally and the group heading to someplace called the Admiral. Evidently, Allyson lived in a hotel. In her mind, Erin imagined her crammed into some drive-in motel turned residential rental like those places long swallowed up by the suburbs, too close to attract motorists, too far from the core to attract visitors. She knew it was silly to think that way, but couldn’t imagine any other scenario for a woman on a charter pilot’s salary.
When Pam arrived, Denise and Charlotte made room for her in the center of the rear bench. Erin tried hard not to roll her eyes and sat quietly while the camera rolled. As the AD asked questions, Pam was required to repeat them or work them into her answers, allowing the editors to later edit the woman’s voice from the scene. They got a brief history of the Highland Creek estate, learning the land had been in the family for five generations. Her great-great-grandfather had built the place, what Pam called the center block. Over the years he and then his son and then Pam’s grandfather had added to the home, expanding it to suit their social status and the ever-growing family. She talked about growing up there, with Ally and her mother in residence, until both girls were packed off at age twelve to Glendennon Castle School for Young Women.
Listening to Pam’s story of a charming life, Erin was not so gullible as to believe everything had been as perfect as Pam let on. Pam spoke affectionately of her grandfather, her mother—a young widow, she alleged—and her aunt, Ally’s mom, the scandalous divorcee. Growing up sharing a room with Ally had been about ensuring they formed a bond the mothers hoped would serve them in adulthood. And they were close, judging by all the stories Pam had shared. But the reality of the last few weeks did make her question Pam’s loyalty to her cousin.
Part of her was excited to see where these two women had grown up and she had hoped to meet “the old boy” as Pam referred to her granddad. Except, Pam was explaining, he was off on an adventure with her aunt Patricia, Ally’s mom, and wasn’t expected back this week. After all she had heard about the wily old timer, that was a disappointment. When his granddaughters were young, he had coached them in finance and law with the hope they would one day take over the family holdings. And while Pam had indeed taken up the law, she had turned to criminalistics as her focus, not tax law. And Ally, Ally was her own person, striking out to follow her passion for aviation.
Pam had often complained that Ally had let him down even when her own rebellious self was sitting five hundred miles away in her law office, presiding over criminal offenders instead of finance. Ally, she said, could still analyze a spreadsheet better than a team of forensic accountants and in half the time. Still, it was aviation that had called to her and Erin was proud to know she had stuck to it, even if her success couldn’t be measured by financial gains in the same way as Pam’s career.
Dwelling on it, Erin did wonder if it was just another sign things between them didn’t have a chanc
e. After all, she was an admin assistant, a good one, but still. After her rent and the necessary wardrobe she needed for work, it didn’t leave a lot to spare. After moving to Chicago, she’d sold her car and started taking the “L” so she could afford healthcare. Pam had tried to get full health coverage pushed through for the admins, but so far the partners just didn’t see fit to agree. She hated men for that. How was it a guy could buy two suits for a hundred bucks? She was shopping the outlet malls and still couldn’t find as much as a skirt and jacket appropriate for the standards of her workplace for under two hundred. And what about shoes? Women were supposed to have all sorts, to match every outfit. She had three pairs of good quality pumps she kept looking good only because her grandfather had taught her how to apply polish and remove salt stains. Most of the other admins cycled through the discount shoes that tore their feet to shreds and fell apart in a month, all to fit the company dress code.
Pam pointed to the sign they were passing: You Are Entering Highland Creek. “Here we are.”
“I don’t see any houses,” Charlotte observed.
Smiling that pompous proud smile that sometimes irritated Erin, Pam clarified, “You won’t. All of this is ours. Well, we have eight hundred acres gifted to the University of Toronto to expand the Scarborough campus, but all in all, it still belongs to the Parker family.”
Sandy checked to make sure the PA sitting up front beside the driver was shooting footage of their drive in, then turned her attention back to them as the limo slowed and turned into an almost invisible drive, camouflaged by huge sugar maples in full leaf. On each side of the drive, two great stags carved from stone were almost swallowed by the foliage, their backs alive with thick green moss.
“These old boys,” Pam explained, pointing out the statues, “represent our family name. We can trace our lineage back to Queen Matilda, who in ten-eighty-three named a Parker the first Royal Forester. In case you don’t know it, Prince Philip, Queen Elizabeth’s hubby, is the current Royal Ranger, so it’s no slouch job.”
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