She glared at him. “Not funny. I do have a very real job with very real rules in Boston.” And no future with an astronaut in Florida, she thought silently, knowing the words would sound clingy and silly. She stood and walked to the sliding glass doors to gauge the length of the rainstorm. She needed to go home.
“Anyway,” she said, studying the clouds. “I don’t take this—this situation as lightly as you probably do.”
He was behind her in one second. He spun her around and she saw the fire in his eyes. “You’ve got me all wrong. I don’t do this either unless it feels completely right. This does.”
“I don’t know what you mean by completely right.”
“Come on. We’ve been starving for this since the minute we saw each other.”
She started to shake her head, but he put a finger on her lips.
“Don’t you dare deny it. This has been coming from the beginning. Since before I even knew you had me in mind for this PR garbage. Hell, I was undressing you in your first presentation.”
“That’s just lust,” she whispered.
“You want love?” he countered, his eyes narrowed in warning.
“Of course not.” Lightning flashed in the window, jarring her. “I just don’t want to do anything stupid. There are people who would like nothing more than for me to fall into bed with you.”
“I know. I’m one of them.” He reached up and rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “But not for a price you’re not willing to pay.”
“My career would be an awfully high price.”
“I know all about regulations. I live with them and I respect them. But sometimes…” His finger reached her lips. “You gotta break the rules.”
At that moment, Jessica wanted to break every rule she ever followed. A throbbing ache moved from her most feminine core right to her heart.
“I’m sorry, Deke. Risk scares me too much.”
He leaned forward to gently kiss her lips. The temptation to open her mouth and take the kiss right back to where they were weakened her down to her toes.
“The rain is slowing,” she whispered.
He reached his arms around her back and pulled her close enough to feel his heart. “Don’t go home yet.”
“I have to. I’ll just take the path. I run it every morning.”
“I know.” He smiled. “I try never to miss you jogging by.”
She laughed, surprised at the revelation, relieved that some of the tension had faded, if only for a moment. “I’ll see you on December thirtieth. Remember? You have a date with a movie star, poster boy. I’ll be there to supervise your every move.”
“And drag me in front of every reporter.”
“That, too.” She pulled back an inch and gave him a dubious look. “You do own a tuxedo, don’t you?”
“What, no space suit?”
She exhaled a laugh as he took her face in his hands and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Come on, sweetheart, I’ll walk you home.”
They said almost nothing, dodging raindrops and low-hanging branches on the way to her house. At her patio, he reached down for one last long, wistful kiss.
“Merry Christmas, Jess,” he whispered. “Have fun in Boston.”
She didn’t respond but tried to remember why on earth she was going back there.
Chapter Sixteen
“Do you like it?” Before Jessica could see the woman asking the question, she heard the sultry lilt of her voice and caught a whiff of Carla’s ultra-hip unisex perfume. “I got so sick of all that dark stuff. No one has cherry wood anymore.”
No, no one at Kennedy Space Center did, that was for sure. Jessica looked around the office that had been vacant when she left. Carla had wasted no time establishing her territory and making sure it had the most commanding view in all of R&C Boston.
With a rueful smile, Jessica envisioned the chipped Formica and dented supply cabinet in the office she’d called home for the last six weeks. “It’s beautiful.”
Carla’s thin face squished into what she must have thought was a girlish, innocent expression. “You’re not upset, are you? I mean, it wasn’t your office and I just hated to see all this gorgeous space wasted.”
“Of course I’m not upset.” A little jealous and a lot disgusted, but not upset. “I’m sure you fit everything nicely into the overhead budget for the year.”
“As if those ogres in finance would let me spend a dime we didn’t have.” Carla laughed, pulling Jessica further into the office. “Anyway, we’re making oodles on Dash. That account’s profits will be sky-high at year-end. At least forty percent over our projections.”
Over Jessica’s projections. The dig wasn’t lost. Oh, Miss California was good. She was very, very good.
Carla dropped onto a creamy leather sofa and patted the seat next to her. “Come on, girlfriend. Spill the beans. I want to know absolutely everything about that sex god you’ve got your hands on in Florida.”
Jessica took the seat across from her, setting her Palm Pilot gently on the glass coffee table. “Sorry to ruin your fantasies, but we’re barely friends, let alone lovers.” That’s why she said no to Deke: so she could look Carla in the eye and not lie. “I’m still waiting for a copy of the Dash marketing plan.”
Carla’s eyes narrowed. “You are not letting that archaic R&C fraternization rule keep you from jumping that man’s bones, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” Jessica said quietly. “I’m letting my own basic morals guide my actions and the fact that I am not even slightly attracted to a man who also happens to be my client. Does Rita have a copy of the plan in her files?”
Without another word, Carla got up and took a manila file folder off her desk and dropped it on the coffee table. “Well, then, Jess. Never let it be said that you fucked your way to the top.”
Jessica picked up the folder and lifted her gaze to meet Carla’s. The hazel eyes held a dare and a challenge. “Now, who would say a thing like that, Carla?”
Carla sauntered behind her massive, light-oak desk and pulled out the chair. “I understand you didn’t have a chance to talk to Tony while you were in New York.”
“No. He got pulled into some damage control.” Jessica casually opened the file and started reading the first page of what appeared to be at least an eighty-page marketing plan. Jeez. Even the introduction was good.
“Uh-huh,” Carla said. “The Today show situation.”
That you caused, Jessica almost said. But her mantra played steadily in her head. Pick your battles. Pick your battles. She would not fight this one. Her fight was with Tony, not Carla.
“And you were…” Carla cleared her throat. “Not available later that day, as I understand it.”
The words of the marketing plan ran together. Was this an accusation? Just how much of her personal life did Carla know? She looked up questioningly. “Me? My cell’s on twenty-four seven, Carla. You know that.”
“Oh, I know. It’s just that Tony said he tried to find you, but you’d already checked out of the Plaza.” Carla settled into her desk chair. “I guess he wasn’t sure where you were that night.”
Could she be any more obvious? “What did he need to tell me?”
“That he’s announcing a GM for this office by the end of the year.” Carla crossed her arms and leaned back, the mistress of her blond-wood domain. “Hasn’t he called you yet? It’s been a week.”
Jessica held her gaze and refused to take the bait Carla was offering. “It’s not the end of the year yet. Perhaps he’s waiting to make a final decision.”
“Perhaps.” Carla nodded.
“Hey, stranger. I heard you were back.”
Jessica turned to see her old secretary, Rita Ross, standing in the doorway. “Hi, Rossy. I’m here for the week.”
Rita grinned and winked. “Good. We’ll catch up. Bill Dugan’s on three.”
Jessica stood and scooped up the marketing plan. “Great, I’m dying to talk to him.”
“Uh… he’s holdi
ng for Carla, actually.”
A slow burn warmed Jessica’s neck. “Okay.” She grabbed her Palm Pilot and shrugged. “I was just leaving anyway.”
* * *
Skip Bowker hung up the phone and peered through the glass wall of his office toward the main hangar of the OPF. He watched the impressive figure of Commander Stockard stride by without so much as a glance in his direction. Deke was a very, very busy man these days with his girlfriend gone and his time freed up again.
He’d been in the facility nearly fifteen hours a day and showed no signs of giving up. Man, he would have fit right in with the crew back in the Apollo days. They would have eaten up a guy with that kind of determination and dedication. Not like these whiny twenty-something engineers who drifted in and out at their whim. In the old days, they had a purpose. They had a cause. They had an enemy.
Now they had something called the United Space Alliance and a bunch of contractors who were stepping all over each other to get a dollar. Cosmonauts, for Christ’s sake, living off American taxes on an American space station. It was enough to make a guy want to throw up.
Jesus. It was so different now.
But it could change back so easily. That’s what he’d been trying to tell his friend for the last twenty minutes. Things were not exactly as they looked around here, and if the right people knew about it, the wrong people would get shit-canned in a hurry.
Then they might be able to go back to the way things were. He was counting on his friend to help him. He’d seemed intelligent enough the few times they’d met in the past. A smart and ambitious character who would take the information Skip handed him on a platter and do something with it.
No one should have to die. Unless they’re dumb enough to climb in that bird and try to take it up to the space station. Then they’d all have to watch that white cloud of death explode over the Atlantic Ocean one more time.
The image made his gut burn. Betsy and Challenger. Nothing had ever been the same since 1986.
If they were smart, they’d just let the Commie kick and turn him into space junk.
If they were smart.
He watched lithe Deke Stockard climb into the hatch of the shuttle, clinging to his precious PLIC logs. Now Deke was smart, or at least he was until he’d gotten completely distracted by a pretty girl.
Skip smiled, thinking of Betsy and her trusting brown eyes. Well, hell. That can happen to a guy. That sure can happen to a guy.
* * *
Jessica had just finished fluffing out her one-foot-tall, pre-decorated Bloomingdale’s artificial Christmas tree when the front desk guard called to announce that Jo Miller had arrived.
Crossing the hardwood floor in bare feet, she opened the door of her condo with an expectant smile on her face. They hadn’t had a moment to chat for the last two days. This visit was Jessica’s whole Christmas, having gotten the message loud and clear that Dad wasn’t up for company over the holiday. She couldn’t wait to settle in for a nice long chat with her best friend.
Jo swept in after they’d hugged in the hallway. “Oh, Jess. You broke out the big-time Christmas decorations.” She tapped the tiny tree and threw her red wool coat on a chair. “Just for moi?”
“Shut up. I can’t find the mistletoe.”
Jo crumpled into her favorite corner of the sofa and kicked off her heels. “That’s okay. You left the mistletoe-ee in Florida.”
“Oh, please. Not you, too.”
Jo smiled slyly. “Hey, this is me. I know the truth. How was the sail?”
Jessica stepped behind the kitchen counter and pulled the cork out of the white wine she’d been chilling. “Dee-vine.”
“How divine?” Jo rubbed her feet. “And just pour me water, okay?”
“Water? Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, Jo. And God knows after my meeting with the Grinch this afternoon, I could use a drink.”
“We’ll get to her in a minute. Exactly how divine?”
Jessica sighed, longing to tell her, but not sure if somehow the magic would evaporate if she committed it to words. “Not over-the-top divine, but close. Why water?”
“I’m thirsty. Is that a crime? How close?”
“Second base. Are you pregnant?”
Jo froze mid-foot massage and flashed a guilty look at Jessica. “Don’t ruin the present, hon. I have the little plus sign all wrapped up in a box for you.”
A rush of warmth poured over Jessica, and a little mewing sound escaped her lips.
“I need a godmother, too,” Jo said quietly.
“Oh my God.” Jessica put the bottle down and practically ran across the room to Jo, the lump in her throat nearly choking her. “I’d be honored.”
Jo really did have a box with a white plastic case with a pink plus sign wrapped for Jessica and she insisted it be opened with all due ceremony. Jessica held the gift for a long time, treasuring it in precisely the spirit it had been given to her.
“I’m so happy for you, Jo. You’re going to be a great mother.”
“I’d love company, doll,” Jo said as she cut a generous slice of brie and smeared it on a piece of French bread. “Why don’t you hook up with the rocket man and we can get fat together?”
Jessica smiled and twirled the plastic in her hand. “Get real, Miller.”
“I am real. Marlowe.” Jo leaned forward and put a gentle hand on Jessica’s arm. “There’s more to life than work, honey.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“What’s stopping you?”
Jessica fluffed a pillow on the floor and laid down, her wine glass precariously balanced on her stomach. She looked at it and smiled. “For one thing, if I get as fat as you will, I won’t be able to do this.”
Jo didn’t laugh. “This guy’s different, isn’t he?”
Jessica grabbed the glass before it tipped. “Different from Gary? Well, he’s not an investment banker who thinks he’s a Master of the Universe.”
“He is a Master of the Universe, for crying out loud. He’s an astronaut!” Jo laughed a little. “Gary was just a walking ego that you wisely dumped.”
Jessica smiled and crunched up enough to take a sip of wine. She swallowed and dropped her head back onto the pillow, closing her eyes. “He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met, Jo.”
Jo said nothing.
“He’s brilliant and driven and caring and stubborn and talented and funny and sarcastic and sweet and oh, God in heaven, he is hot.”
Jo chuckled. “I noticed. He looked particularly good on the Tonight Show. Did you pick that black outfit?”
“Mmmm. No. He looks good in everything, though. Did I mention that he’s brilliant?”
“At least once.”
“Did I say funny?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And sexy.” Jessica moaned softly. “He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t slow down your killer climb up the career ladder for anything that unappealing.” Jo bit a cracker. “What a disappointment you’d be to the old professor who raised you.”
“Don’t start on Dad. He’s just too old to get mad at anymore.”
“Okay. What’s Commander Perfect’s fatal flaw?”
“Fatal. Hah. That’s just it.” Jessica narrowed her eyes, thinking about how many times he’d referenced not coming home from work. “He seems to think he’s going to die.”
“We all are.”
“But he’s a risk-taker to the nth degree.”
Jo chuckled. “Not if he doesn’t want to fall in love with you, he’s not.”
Jessica looked at her. “I never thought about it that way.”
She reached up to the table over her head and grabbed the small white plastic pregnancy test. Could she ever do this? Was she a risk-taker? Was she up to the one challenge that she didn’t feel smart or competent enough to tackle?
She moved the wine glass and absently rubbed her tummy. She’d never met anyone who made her think of such possibilities.
&nbs
p; But at that moment, they seemed as infinite as space.
Chapter Seventeen
Deke swore under his breath as he whipped the bow tie open in frustration for the third time, then concentrated on looping an even knot. With a final tug, he stepped back to appraise his work. He was satisfied, but couldn’t resist reaching into the collar to pull at the stiff fabric that choked him on the balmy December night.
He grabbed his keys in arrogant defiance, knowing full well that a limo driver lingered in his driveway, looking completely out of place leaning against a pearly stretch Lincoln Continental. Deke had all but barked at the poor kid when he’d arrived ten minutes ago with a stammering explanation that he’d gone to Jessica’s house first, but she wasn’t quite ready and had sent him down here. Deke glared at the clean-scrubbed driver and immediately disliked him for no rational reason.
He just didn’t want to drive fifty miles to Orlando staring across the ridiculous expanse of a limousine with some goofy kid at the wheel trying to act like he wasn’t listening or watching. After ten days, Deke wanted to be completely alone with Jessica.
“Tell you what.” He put a friendly hand on the kid’s shoulder. “You follow. I’m taking my own car.”
“Uh, sure. You got it, sir.” The driver hesitated for a moment and squinted at Deke. “Sir? Is she going with you or me?”
Deke grinned. “Damn straight she’s going with me.”
Driving the short distance to Jessica’s house, Deke finally indulged in the anticipation that had been quietly fighting for a share of his mind over the past week and a half. He’d gotten very adept at ignoring the subtle pressure Jessica Marlowe put on his subconscious, spending nearly every waking moment at the Orbiter Processing Facility.
He’d studied every seal, tube, and wire he could get his hands on, reviewed the reports on the last mission, and quietly grilled Skip Bowker. In general, he put the engineers through hell trying to ensure that whatever caused the hydrogen leak on Columbia wouldn’t happen again on Endeavour. The whole process had left little time for romantic reveries.
Space in His Heart Page 16
