“What do you think? And two Cokes.”
“Bourbon in those?”
Rye shook his head. “I may be flying tomorrow.”
“Rum?”
Rye laughed. “Straight Coke.”
After the young man moved away, she said, “You seem right at home.”
“Yep. And I know how the system works. Wait here. Keep your head down. Don’t make eye contact, or he’ll take it as encouragement.”
“Who?”
“Pick one, any one.”
He left the table and waded his way to the bar, where he motioned the busy bartender over. He paid for the drinks of the two men who’d given up their table, then conferred privately with the bartender.
Brynn read the names and dates and vulgarities carved into the tabletop.
Rye returned. “I put a bug in the bartender’s ear.”
“He’ll find a pilot for me?”
“He won’t have to. The pilot will find us.”
“That’s the system? You put the word out and see who comes around?”
“Basically. But don’t be scared. Whoever winds up taking you will have met my qualifications. He won’t be a rookie.”
“Thank you.”
“Save it for when you’re on your way.”
She took a look around. “You were teasing me about the porn.”
“No, I wasn’t.” He indicated the wall nearest their table.
She looked at it, then realized that every inch of wall space was covered with pictures of airplanes. Every era of aviation was represented, so was every type, shape, color, and size of aircraft.
Rye said, “I call it ‘plane porn,’ because it’s what every guy in here gets off on.”
“Flying.”
“Flying.” He handed a five-dollar bill to the busboy, who had returned with their food and drinks.
They doctored their burgers using the condiments grouped into a beer six-pack in the center of the table, then dove in hungrily. When Brynn came up for air and took a sip of her drink, she said, “Why do you love it so much?”
“Tabasco?”
He’d poured a puddle of it onto his plate, but she knew he was using the quip to dodge giving her an answer. “Why do you love flying so much?”
“Early exposure, I guess. Most of my growing up was done on Air Force bases.”
“Was your father a pilot?”
“He had his license, but flying bothered his ears. Pulling Gs made him sick.”