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Authors: Walter J. Boyne
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as well and began to treat her as his girl Friday. When Hafner Aircraft went belly up in 1936, Troy McNaughton had bought up its assets—among them Elsie Raynor.
With the experience she'd had with Hafner, she quickly assumed a major role at McNaughton, developing an easygoing, bantering managerial style that did not quite mask her voracious appetite for power. Troy valued her knack for going to the heart of business problems. Sometimes she used sex as a weapon, exploiting the weaknesses of the men she worked with, but most of the time she simply worked harder and gathered more information than anyone else she was competing with. She had used both approaches with her old friend and lover, the late General Henry Caldwell, and it had paid off handsomely over the years. Elsie was a wealthy woman, with a large interest in McNaughton Aircraft held in her own name.
When Ginny finally appeared, clicking in on four-inch high heels, the two women experienced the polar opposite of love at first sight. Elsie thought, A frigging flamenco dancer—where are the castanets? even as she realized the truth—Ginny was too young, too pretty, and too much in love with herself for Elsie to endure. As Ginny walked over, Elsie's eyes swept up and down. Ginny was taller and she had a gorgeous figure—much like her own had been only a few years before.
Elsie sat up straight and stole a quick glance into the mirrored column next to her. She sighed. Twenty extra pounds had mugged her body, making the flat round and the firm sag. Her once silky, copper-gold hair had been turned to dime store henna by too many weekly treatments. In her youth, she used just a touch of makeup, but now she was layered in a rose-pink Elizabeth Arden haze.
Ginny, piling up impressions at equal speed, let her best beauty-contest smile blossom as she thought, She looks like a whorehouse madam.
Elsie half-rose from her seat to greet her. They shook hands formally, each momentarily lost in appraising the other.
If Ginny's first mistake was to be attractive, her second was to dominate the conversation. Elsie tried to interject at first, but soon gave up, confining her remarks to "aha's" and a few "I see's."
"I just love your guesthouse; you must have had a professional decorator in."
Elsie liked the old guesthouse better, where she had roistered with Caldwell and many others. The new place was too luxurious for her, and it didn't even have a mirror by the bed! She started to say that she had done the decorating herself when Ginny went on, "'Course, I'd never hire anyone to do my home. I've got a natural talent for decoration, everyone says so."
Elsie smiled, thinking: You probably love blue-tinted mirrors and movie-dish tableware, you cracker bitch.
In the next hour, Elsie learned far more than she wanted to know about Ginny's aristocratic family, her powerful father, Stan's cleverness, and how much the two of them could do for McNaughton Aircraft. She also saw that as mendaciously cunning as Ginny was, she could be a useful tool—and would never be a threat.
Finally, Ginny ran down, saying, "But goodness me, I've been doing all the talking. Tell me why you all want Stan to come work for you."
Smoothing the silver-threaded tablecloth with her hand, Elsie decided to tell Ginny the simple truth.
"Because of your contacts—your stepfather, of course, and all the others. And because your husband will make a good salesman for us. He's much smoother than Troy. Troy's ways were fine for the old days, but the government's more sophisticated now. I understand that Stan has a very winning manner, and that he looks the part."
Ginny was excited, visions of managerial perks dancing in her head. "You don't want him to be just a test pilot?"
The white-jacketed waiter, silver-haired and sleekly deferential, served dessert, orange sherbet for Ginny and bourbon black bottom pecan pie for Elsie.
"Oh, sure, he'll fly as much as he wants to. But Troy wants to use him in Washington
With the experience she'd had with Hafner, she quickly assumed a major role at McNaughton, developing an easygoing, bantering managerial style that did not quite mask her voracious appetite for power. Troy valued her knack for going to the heart of business problems. Sometimes she used sex as a weapon, exploiting the weaknesses of the men she worked with, but most of the time she simply worked harder and gathered more information than anyone else she was competing with. She had used both approaches with her old friend and lover, the late General Henry Caldwell, and it had paid off handsomely over the years. Elsie was a wealthy woman, with a large interest in McNaughton Aircraft held in her own name.
When Ginny finally appeared, clicking in on four-inch high heels, the two women experienced the polar opposite of love at first sight. Elsie thought, A frigging flamenco dancer—where are the castanets? even as she realized the truth—Ginny was too young, too pretty, and too much in love with herself for Elsie to endure. As Ginny walked over, Elsie's eyes swept up and down. Ginny was taller and she had a gorgeous figure—much like her own had been only a few years before.
Elsie sat up straight and stole a quick glance into the mirrored column next to her. She sighed. Twenty extra pounds had mugged her body, making the flat round and the firm sag. Her once silky, copper-gold hair had been turned to dime store henna by too many weekly treatments. In her youth, she used just a touch of makeup, but now she was layered in a rose-pink Elizabeth Arden haze.
Ginny, piling up impressions at equal speed, let her best beauty-contest smile blossom as she thought, She looks like a whorehouse madam.
Elsie half-rose from her seat to greet her. They shook hands formally, each momentarily lost in appraising the other.
If Ginny's first mistake was to be attractive, her second was to dominate the conversation. Elsie tried to interject at first, but soon gave up, confining her remarks to "aha's" and a few "I see's."
"I just love your guesthouse; you must have had a professional decorator in."
Elsie liked the old guesthouse better, where she had roistered with Caldwell and many others. The new place was too luxurious for her, and it didn't even have a mirror by the bed! She started to say that she had done the decorating herself when Ginny went on, "'Course, I'd never hire anyone to do my home. I've got a natural talent for decoration, everyone says so."
Elsie smiled, thinking: You probably love blue-tinted mirrors and movie-dish tableware, you cracker bitch.
In the next hour, Elsie learned far more than she wanted to know about Ginny's aristocratic family, her powerful father, Stan's cleverness, and how much the two of them could do for McNaughton Aircraft. She also saw that as mendaciously cunning as Ginny was, she could be a useful tool—and would never be a threat.
Finally, Ginny ran down, saying, "But goodness me, I've been doing all the talking. Tell me why you all want Stan to come work for you."
Smoothing the silver-threaded tablecloth with her hand, Elsie decided to tell Ginny the simple truth.
"Because of your contacts—your stepfather, of course, and all the others. And because your husband will make a good salesman for us. He's much smoother than Troy. Troy's ways were fine for the old days, but the government's more sophisticated now. I understand that Stan has a very winning manner, and that he looks the part."
Ginny was excited, visions of managerial perks dancing in her head. "You don't want him to be just a test pilot?"
The white-jacketed waiter, silver-haired and sleekly deferential, served dessert, orange sherbet for Ginny and bourbon black bottom pecan pie for Elsie.
"Oh, sure, he'll fly as much as he wants to. But Troy wants to use him in Washington
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