“Yes, Captain. Take us home.” Charlie said, always in command. I love him, so much.We were zombies that night. Thursday night. Looking back, it was a whirlwind. Taking Sally home, them at work Monday, the message Monday night, the directive on Tuesday, more meetings Wednesday, the antenna debacle that morning, the call from General Anderson on the plane that afternoon, now trying to fathom how I, an eighteen-year-old, almost college sophomore, became the COO and principal of the Signals Division of Rawlins Systems, Incorporated. Should have left my damned umbrella hanging on that hook by the garage door.Friday, we slept late, and all went in at about nine, to the shop. Dianne was laughing her ass off. Her contact in the Pentagon thought it was funny, too, but for some reason, the people she had dealt with at the antenna company on the last couple boxes called and said they wouldn’t be available for testing in the future. OK. She said we could work around it, with Anderson’s. “I mean we all know fundamentally what drinking and pulsing music can lead too.” Christie watched as he turned to his drink and tilted the drink to his lips. He sat the drink on the bar and licked his lips. Christie watched each movement with interest. Turning her upper body towards him she replied. “Only loose women and players fall victim to the trappings of flash and boom.” Mr.Laid Back rewarded Christie with a profiled half smile. “Flash and boom?” He drained the liquor from his glass and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Swinging around in his chair to face Christie, his entire presence engaged in the conversation. Christie felt herself flush with heat. Something about this man called to her wild side. “Flash.” She tilted her fruity drink before taking another sip, “and boom.” Nodding her head to the dozens of couples crowded in the muted light of the dance floor and dark corners. This bar definitely catered to the gimme gimme more gimme more gimme gimme more crowd. .
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