“What kind of deal?” Her eyes narrowed. That was quick.
“The kind where I ultimately get more than you do, admittedly.” My lips flattened.
Her eyes flared with surprise. “Well, at least you admit it. Okay, shoot.”
“I think we both need to get out of our comfort zones when it comes to dealing with each other and this book. I’m not used to having someone dictate my endings, let alone an entire story, since two-thirds of it is already written, and you don’t trust me farther than you can throw me.”
Her head tilted slightly, not bothering to deny it. “What do you have in mind?”
“I will spend some time getting to know Scarlett—not just the character she wrote herself as in the book, but the real woman, and then I’ll write two endings. One will be the one I want, and the other will be what I’m known for—what you want. You can choose between the two.” I grabbed my ego in a choke hold to keep the asshole quiet.
“And I have to…” She lifted her brow.
“Go rock climbing. With me. It’s a trust thing.” Smooth. Real smooth.
“You want me to put my life in your hands.” She shifted her weight, clearly uncomfortable.
“I want you to put Scarlett’s life in my hands, which I think starts with yours.” Because she valued Scarlett’s more. That’s what the trip to the gazebo and the internet had taught me. She was ruthlessly protective of her great-grandmother, while she’d allowed her husband out of their marriage with little to no consequence.
“And the final decision is still mine?” she clarified, her forehead crinkling.
“One hundred percent, but you have to agree to read both endings before you decide.” I’d win her over one way or another. I just had to get her to read it my way.
“Deal.”
Chapter Sixteen
February 1941
Kirton-in-Lindsey, England
“Good morning!” Scarlett said to Constance as she arrived for her morning watch.
“So loud.” Eloise, who had only been posted to Kirton for the last month, winced as she stirred a mug of cocoa.
“Someone stayed out with the boys a bit too long last night,” Constance explained as she handed Scarlett a steaming mug of coffee.
That could probably be said for most of the 71st and the WAAFs this morning, as well as a healthy percentage of the single, civilian girls from Kirton. Scarlett was among the sleepless, too, but for much…different reasons. After what they’d both considered an acceptable amount of time, Jameson had taken her home for their own celebration, though there had been a sharper, more desperate edge to his lovemaking.
As of yesterday, the 71st was officially ready for defensive duties. Training, and the blissful months of relative safety, were over. The only thing to celebrate in her mind was that the unit had finally been outfitted with Hurricanes, rather than the cumbersome Buffaloes Jameson hated so very much, but he still missed his Spitfire.
Scarlett offered Eloise a compassionate smile. “More water, less cocoa.” She finished putting her things away and looped her arm through Constance’s elbow as they headed for the door. “How late did you stay out, poppet?”
“Just long enough to see some of the girls home.” She sent a meaningful look toward Eloise, who followed close behind.
“Which was totally unnecessary,” the pretty little blonde added. “Did I enjoy myself? Certainly. But it’s not like I’m silly enough to end up in any of the dark alcoves with a flyer. I’m not about to have my heart broken when—” She winced. “Not that you’re silly, of course, Scarlett. You’re married.”
Scarlett shrugged. “Yes, and that was still silly of me. We both know there are no guarantees. I worry every time Jameson flies—and he’s only been training these last few months, but now…” Her heart plummeted, but she forced a smile.
“He’ll be fine.” Constance gave her a squeeze, and they walked toward the briefing room.
Scarlett nodded, but her stomach hollowed out. She plotted aircraft every day that had lost their radar and ended up crashing simply because they couldn’t see how close they were to safety. She plotted the raids, the losses, and changed the numbers, all the while knowing that it would soon be Jameson back in combat.
“And don’t worry about this one,” Eloise said, nudging Constance. “She’s head over heels for that little army captain of hers. She spends most nights penning letter after letter.”
Pink rose in Constance’s cheeks.
“When exactly does Edward get leave again?” Scarlett grinned. Nothing would be better than seeing Constance as settled and happy as she was.
“In a few weeks,” Constance answered wistfully, sighing at the threshold of the briefing room, which was already half full.
Scarlett’s eyes flared with surprise as she spotted one of the occupants. “Mary?”
Mary’s head whipped her way. “Scarlett? Constance?”
Both Scarlett and Constance scurried around the long table to embrace their friend. It had been four months since they’d seen each other at Middle Wallop, and yet it seemed like an entire lifetime had passed.
“You both look wonderful!” Mary exclaimed, her eyes sweeping over her friends.
“Thank you,” Scarlett responded. “You do as well.” It wasn’t a lie, but there was something…off about Mary. The spark in her eyes had dimmed, and she could do with a few nights’ rest. A weight settled in her chest. Whatever had sent their friend here wasn’t good.
“She should practically be glowing, since she’s married now.” Constance nudged her sister. “Show her!”
“Oh, all right.” Scarlett rolled her eyes but held out her left hand with as little fuss as possible, keeping her focus on Mary.
“My God.” Mary’s gaze flickered from the ring to Scarlett’s eyes. “Married? To whom?” She’d barely asked the question before her eyes widened. “Stanton? Eagle Squadron is still here, right?”
“Yes and yes,” Scarlett answered, unable to keep her lips from twitching upward.
Mary softened. “I’m happy for you. You two really are perfect for each other.”
“Thank you,” she replied gently, still sensing there was a reason for Mary’s appearance. “Now what on earth are you doing here?”
Mary’s face fell. “Oh. Michael…he was a pilot I’d been seeing since you were reposted…” She blinked rapidly and tilted her chin up. “He went down during a raid last week.” Her mouth trembled.