Katie wants to know more

“Those stories that Gabby's mother tells her, Mr. Patterson,” the poor girl pauses as if she almost afraid to ask the question, “they can't really be true, right?” I can see more color in her cheeks and unlike Gabby and Alison I don't think it's because she had the punch.

“I'm afraid, they might be,” this time it's my turn to pause, “I'm not sure what to call you. Do you like Katie or Kate or is it Katheryn?”

“It's Katerina, actually... my parents are from Ukraine.”

“Well, that's lovely; may I call you Katerina?” For some reason this makes her blush even more and her eyes lift to meet mine shyly. For the first time I notice how blue they are, and I'm not surprised that she, like the other two, was being hit on by horny frat boys. If I didn't already have Alison, I might be tempted myself.

“I'd like that, Sir.”

“How about you call me, Pat?” This is clearly a step too far for the sweet girl and she shakes her head. But then, before I can suggest 'Mr. P' like Alison uses, she offers a different solution.

“At our training they told us to always call the pilot and copilot by their rank, Captain.” Her eyes drop to where her white-gloved hands are twisting together on her lap. “Is that OK?”

“Well, I'm glad to see you take your training seriously.” I can only imagine what the training was like for hostesses back in the sixties and seventies but decide to just run with it. “This airline prides itself on having the finest stewardesses in the business.” At that I get a quick smile and then another question.

“Why were all those guys saying such disgusting things?” Once again, she tugs nervously at her collar. I'm sure it's not her intention, but it has the effect of pulling open her jacket giving me a glimpse of the pale skin beneath. “These uniforms cover way more than the skimpy outfits the other girls were wearing. Why did they keep touching us? One even tried to pull up my skirt!” I feel an irrational burst of anger at myself. I've never liked the Greek system and to let these three naïve coeds venture into one of their parties was almost criminal.

“Because they're frat boys.” A little of my contempt spills out. “Overly entitled little shits who need to grow up.” I take her gloved hand in mine and give it a friendly squeeze. “Forget about it, but stay away from those parties, OK?”

“I will, Captain.” To my surprise she climbs to her feet and gives me a quick hug with her soft cheek pressing against mine. “I'm glad you're not like those boys.” She settles back on the couch just as Alison and Gabby come back in with a tray of coffee cups cream and a sugar bowl giving me time to recover just a little. Unfortunately, I don't get much of a break and Alison struts towards me with an extra swing to her hips.

“What's that line, Mr. P?” Alison is almost as tipsy as Gabrielle and she gives her friend a quirky grin before leaning over so her face was just inches from mine, “Coffee, tea or me?”

Gabby is quick to move to the other side of my chair and add with another giggle. “Or me.” Damn this is going to be a long night.

“Drink your coffee, girls.” I tell them as I add a splash of milk. “We've got to get you sobered up before I let you go upstairs on your own.”