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The rest of the weekend, Amalia was kept up to speed on how the races were going by Jose’s involvement. He scoured every Web site and local newspaper for updates on the events and reported every fact at dinner each night.
Stefano was ahead the first two days in two drop events. Rafael surged ahead on the third day. Had Rafael been able to do all he wanted with his teammate? Or had Stefano suspected it wouldn’t work out and deliberately chosen her? Would Rafael do better if he had competent help?
Amalia thought that perhaps she could be doing Teresa a disservice. Maybe she’d caught on instantly and was of immense help. After all, she was dating Rafael, surely she’d want to do all she could to help him win.
Amalia didn’t expect her boss back in the office for more than a week. Once the festival ended on Tuesday, he and Rafael would begin the long jump to see who could go farther in their own private race. It was quiet at the office, and she relished the lack of distractions to get caught up on nonpriority tasks.
But on Tuesday afternoon Amalia got a call at work from Rafael Sandoval.
Without any greeting, he spoke in clipped words. “You have to fly with me starting in the morning. We leave at dawn. Pack light, and for heaven’s sake bring sensible clothes.”
“What are you talking about?” Amalia squeaked.
“The bet, what else? The festival ended at noon today. Vicente and I are almost equal in points. The rest will be decided on the long jump.”
“I’m not going. You have your teammate,” she protested.
“It’s you or Teresa, and she’s made it clear she won’t step foot inside the basket again. I’m not forfeiting this bet because of some collusion between you and Vicente. You’re the other candidate Vicente allowed me, so I say you will come. Be here no later than five-thirty. Your bag goes with the chase team and you come with me.”
“No!” Amalia exclaimed.
“I’m in no mood to argue. Be there!” He hung up before she could respond.
She quickly called her boss’s cell phone. He answered on the second ring.
“Amalia, is there an emergency? Have Benito handle anything that comes up.”
“Rafael Sandoval just called and said I have to go with him for the next stage because Teresa won’t. I can’t go, Stefano. I have Jose to think about and work to do here and—” She hated to harp on her fear of heights, because that would make her seem foolish. But it was real.
Stefano laughed. “Hot damn, I may win after all. Either you go or he has no assistant in the basket. Automatic forfeiture. Man, I can’t wait to have him give me that check at the BBA.”
“Find someone else to pair him up with.”
“Hey, I did. Teresa Valesquez. If she can’t stay the course he’s out of luck. He had two choices, and I only got one. He can’t complain.”
“Just so you know, I’m not going.”
“If you say no, so be it. It’s good news for me.” He rang off, leaving Amalia feeling odd. He didn’t care how he won, as long as he did. It seemed unfair that if Teresa refused to go, Rafael would have to forfeit the race—and the money for a charity of her choice.
Amalia felt restless all evening. Even Jose picked up on her fidgeting and challenged her to a video game. She agreed, mostly to take her mind off Rafael’s reaction tomorrow when she didn’t show up in time for the liftoff. He’d be mad. She shivered. Furious, more like it. Still, what could he do to her? She didn’t work for him. If her boss hadn’t suggested the insane idea, Rafael Sandoval would probably not even know her name or be able to recognize her on the street.
It wasn’t her fault. She had never agreed to the stupid plan her boss had devised. Rafael couldn’t expect a stranger to drop everything just to accompany him. She had her own responsibilities.
Still, it was hard to fall asleep. Finally dropping off, she felt she slept for ten minutes before there was a banging on the front door to the flat.
She sprang out of bed and raced down the hall, almost colliding with her brother when he came from his room, both scrambling to don robes.
“Is it a fire?” he asked, following her to the door.
“I don’t know. Maybe a neighbor needs help.”
Throwing open the door, Amalia stared in astonishment at Rafael Sandoval. He appeared to loom over her, dressed in the black-and-red jumpsuit, his hair tousled and his eyes flashing.
“You’re not dressed and, I expect, not packed. The shuttle buses stopped running now that the festival is over. I came to get you.”
Jose greeted Rafael as if his awakening them in the middle of the night was a normal occurrence.
“I told you I’m not going,” Amalia reiterated stubbornly.
“Going where?” her brother asked.
“Ballooning—on the long jump,” Rafael said. “And yes you are. I’m not losing this race on a technicality. Get your stuff.”
“Wow, how cool. You get to go with Rafe in the hot air balloon?” Jose said, turning a beaming face to Amalia. “You’re so lucky.”
“I’m. Not. Going,” she repeated slowly. Were they both deaf?
“Amalia, you have to. What a great chance this is. Tell me all about it when you get back. How many people get this chance? You have to go.” Jose was clearly excited. Why couldn’t he be the one to go, instead of her? Perhaps she could suggest that to her boss?
“Yes she does have to go. If you convince her, I’ll give you a ride when we get back,” Rafael said, checking his watch. “You have ten minutes before we leave. Unless you want to travel the next few days in your pajamas, you’d better get going.”
Amalia studied his implacable expression for ten seconds, then turned and walked back to her room. She was not going! Slamming the door behind her, she switched on her light and sat hard on the edge of her bed. If her boss and Rafael Sandoval thought she could be ordered about to fit into their feud, they were wrong.
“I can’t leave Jose,” she yelled.
She could hear the two of them talking in the living room. Didn’t her brother think it totally crazy that a man would show up in the middle of the night to abduct his sister? She looked at her clock. It was almost five. Rafael had better get to the launch site or he’d miss takeoff himself.
She crossed her arms over her chest. Dare she go back to bed with him still in the flat? Not that she could sleep. Her blood pounded. Her heart raced. For one insane moment she actually considered going off for a week with Rafael Sandoval. Ha. It was likely, if she didn’t die of fright on ascension, she’d deck him the first chance she got. She was amazed Teresa had lasted all four days without injuring him!
Jose knocked on her door. “I brought you one of my duffel bags and a backpack,” he said. “And I can manage myself while you’re gone. I’m almost eighteen. Besides, Rafe said he’d have his housekeeper come to cook my meals. How cool is that!”
“I can cook your meals,” she said, annoyed Rafael seemed to think he could get everyone to jump to his commands by a snap of his fingers.
The door banged open and Rafael stood in the opening, seeming to fill the space. Jose stood beside him. Both looked at Amalia.
“I’m serious. If you don’t come willingly, I’ll bring you however I can. You will be on that balloon for the next seven days,” Rafael said levelly.
She glared at him. “I’m afraid of heights.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that,” Jose said.
“So sit in the bottom of the basket and keep your eyes shut. You now have five minutes left until we leave.”
CHAPTER THREE
AMALIA fumed as she sat in the passenger seat of the sports car. Rafael ignored her as he quickly sped through the almost empty streets. She wasn’t at all happy—with either Rafael or Jose. Why did men band together whenever it suited them? She’d expected better of her brother.
“There will be coffee and food at the launch site. I don’t want to stop before that,” he said at one point.
She ignored him. Hunger was the least of her worries. The closer they drew to the field, the more anxious she became. He could not be seriously planning on her joining him.
Of course he was. She wouldn’t be in the car if he weren’t.
“What happened to your girlfriend?” she asked, surreptitiously wiping her palms against her pants. Her fear increased. She could not go up in a balloon. For heaven’s sake, she had trouble going above the fifth floor in high-rise buildings! And there she was encased in glass and steel. Yet Rafael expected her to dangle from a large balloon in a flimsy wicker basket high above the earth? She couldn’t do it.
She glanced at him when he didn’t answer right away and saw the anger simmering. With a flick of his eyes her way, he replied, “She wanted a golden band on her finger. That was not in the cards, so she bailed. Good riddance, I say. She complained more than anyone I know. I need someone I can count on. If she’s that unreliable, what would happen if she ditched me halfway through? At least this way, I was able to get you.” He glanced at her. “You don’t have to do anything but go along for the ride. A lot of people would love the opportunity.”
Amalia cleared her throat. “I can’t go. Truly. I really am very afraid of heights. I’m likely to faint or throw up or something that would impede your flight. You have to explain that to Stefano and get someone else.”
“If you faint, do it in a corner so you won’t be in my way. If you throw up, do it over the side. I can think of nothing Vicente would love better than for me to have no one to accompany me. Instant forfeit.”
She stared at him. He couldn’t be so coldhearted as to ignore a truly serious phobia!
“It’s just a stupid bet,” she muttered rebelliously.
“You wouldn’t say that if it was your reputation and money on the line,” he returned.
“I wouldn’t have made the bet in the first place.”
A flicker of amusement flashed on his face, replaced almost immediately by the fierce concentration she was growing to know.
“I bet there a lot of things I do that you wouldn’t,” he said.
A short time later Rafael turned into the road that led to the field. Dawn was just a lightening of the sky in the east. The sun wouldn’t rise for another half hour or so. Amalia looked at the startling difference from when she was here before. There were only two balloons, both glowing from their burners in the darkened sky. As they were almost fully inflated, she knew she didn’t have much time to convince this man she really couldn’t go.
“You should have taken Jose,” she said, staring in horror at the gleaming red-and-black balloon.
“Terms from your boss were clear. You’re my fall-back choice. Though, if you’d just accepted in the first place, you’d already have four days of experience.”
“I’ll just hold you up.” She was desperate. What could she say to convince him?
He stopped the car next to a small truck and two other cars. Turning to face her, he reached out and caught her chin, turning her face to his.
“Sabotage this race and you’ll regret it.”
She pulled away and glared at him. “I was insulted the first time you suggested such a thing. I don’t need to sabotage anything. But I don’t have to help. That’ll be enough detriment to let my boss win.”
“I doubt it. The balloon only needs one pilot. I’m it. Let’s go.”
She sat in the car when he got out, wondering if she could open her door and run down the road to escape. No, almost certainly he’d just follow and pull her back again. As she stared at the balloon, her heart pumped like a piston.
He opened her door and unfastened her seat belt. She slapped his hands away. “I’m not some child,” she said, getting out and judging the chances of her getting away in the darkness, which was quickly fading into daylight. Not good.
He took her arm firmly in one hand and walked toward the group of people working around the balloon. Did he suspect her thoughts?
Two men near the balloon saw them and called a greeting.
The rest turned and also called out.
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it back in time,” one man said.
“Her case is in the back of the car. Get it. Amalia, this is Manuel. That’s Julio and Maria and Paolo. Paolo is your boss’s man. Amalia will take Teresa’s place. Maria, do you have a jacket she can wear?”
She knew he suspected her frantic plan to escape when he didn’t release her. In only a moment Maria returned with a black jacket slashed by the red band. Rafael handed it to Amalia, releasing her at last.
“Put it on, it’ll be cooler the higher we go. You can take it off later when it grows warm.”
Stefano Vicente came into the light. “Want to call it off?” he asked Rafael, grinning maliciously.
“No need, I have my passenger,” Rafael said, nodding to Amalia.
Stefano turned and saw her. “Oh, you’re kidding. Amalia?” He laughed.
The tone made her look at him. “What does that mean?” she asked angrily.
“Nothing, Amalia. Only that it’s in the bag now.” He lifted his hand in a half wave and turned to walk back to his own balloon. “Liftoff in fifteen minutes,” he called back.
Maria walked to the gondola, carrying a couple of soda cans and a small bag. Leaning over the side, she handed them in to Manuel, who was operating the burners. He stowed them in small pouches affixed to the side of the basket.
“You have two blankets in the large bag, water, snacks, and Julio double-checked the fuel supply, so you’re good to go.” She frowned at Amalia. “You don’t look ready. Last chance for a toilet break for the next few hours. Come on, I’ll show you the loo.”
Amalia protested, but there was no help for it. Whether she liked it or not, and she did so not, it looked as if she was going up in a hot air balloon.
Fourteen minutes later Amalia placed her foot in the small step built into the side of the gondola and scrambled over into the basket feeling as if she would be physically sick. If she’d had anything to eat, she knew it would have come right back up.
The basket sat on solid ground, so it didn’t move, but the loud noise of the burners and the ringing shouts of the ground crew fed her nervousness. A second later Rafael jumped in, exchanging places with Manuel. When Manuel climbed out of the gondola, they were ready to go.
“Keep up,” he shouted as he fed the fire, and the flames leaped high into the large balloon overhead.
Amalia cringed and looked for a corner to sit in. The basket was not exactly spacious, and valuable space was taken up with large propane tanks, all connected to interconnecting hoses that fed the burners.
She backed to an area against the side next to one of the tanks and sat down. Keeping her knees bent, she stayed out of Rafael’s way.
“There’re blankets in that side pouch if you want to sit on them,” he said, pointing to a flap covering a canvas basket affixed to the side. She pulled both out. Neither was large, but at least it beat sitting directly on the wicker. Wedging her back against the corner made by the basket and tank, she closed her eyes. When the basket lurched, she gripped the edge of the blankets and began praying. She knew her last moments on earth were about to end.
Another lurch, the burners roaring, and suddenly the sounds of voices faded. She could only hear the burners. Two minutes later there was silence.
Slowly she opened her eyes. Rafael stared down at her.
“You weren’t kidding about being afraid of heights, were you?” he asked. He had one hand on the control knob of the burners, but they were not shooting flame up into the balloon. There was only silence. The basket was slowly swaying, almost like floating in a pool. Or a cloud. She unclenched her hands, flexing her stiff fingers. It was cool up here, but not unpleasantly so. The sky around her was growing lighter.
“We’re floating?” she asked.
“Yes. If you’re serious about getting sick, stay where you are. I don’t want that.” Then he opened the burners and a roar sounded as loud as a motorcycle as the flames leaped. Five seconds later he shut off the burners again.
Silence.
For a long moment Amalia sat where she was. She stretched her legs out in front of her. Rafael was less than six inches away. Glancing around she noted how cramped the basket seemed. Due, no doubt, to the large propane tanks. Several people could ride as long as they stood, as there was space at each side of the basket. Storage pouches lined the walls. The tubes from the tanks were tucked under the covering at the top edge of the basket. Looking up, she saw the burners above Rafael’s head, still a good distance from the huge balloon that filled her sight.
