On the front page was a picture of Larry Douglas in uniform, grinning at her
insolently. The caption read: “AMERICAN RAF HERO RETURNS TO WASHINGTON
TO HEAD UP NEW FIGHTER UNIT.” A two-column story followed.
“Isn’t that exciting?” Annie cried.
“Terribly,” Catherine said. She slammed the paper into the wastebasket. “Can we get
on with our work?”
Annie looked at her, surprised. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I—I thought since he was a
friend of yours, you’d be interested.”
“He’s not a friend,” Catherine corrected her. “He’s more of an enemy.” She saw the
look on Annie’s face. “Could we just forget about Mr. Douglas?”
“Certainly,” Annie said in a puzzled voice. “I told him I thought you’d be pleased.”
Catherine stared at her. “When?”
“When he called this morning. He’s called three times.”
Catherine steeled herself to make her voice casual. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You asked me not to tell you when he called.” She was watching Catherine, her face
filled with confusion.
“Did he leave a number?”
“No.”
“Good.” Catherine thought of his face, of those large, dark teasing eyes. “Good,” she
said again, more firmly. She finished dictating some letters and when Annie had left the
room, Catherine went over to the wastebasket and retrieved the newspaper. She read the
story about Larry word for word. He was an ace with eight German planes to his credit.
He had been shot down twice over the Channel. She buzzed Annie. “If Mr. Douglas calls
again, I’ll talk to him.”
There was only a fractional pause. “Yes, Miss Alexander.”
After all, there was no point in being rude to the man. Catherine would simply
apologize for her behavior at the studio and ask him to stop calling her. She was going to
marry William Fraser.
She waited for another call from him all afternoon. He had not called by six o’clock.
Why should he? Catherine asked herself. He’s out laying six other girls. You’re lucky.
Being involved with him would be like going to a butcher shop. You take your number and
wait your turn.
On the way out she said to Annie, “If Mr. Douglas calls tomorrow, tell him I’m not
in.”
Annie did not even blink. “Yes, Miss Alexander. Good night.”
“Good night.”