on the bar. She nodded. ‘I think I’ve heard of this before.’ Her eyes connected with Austin’s. ‘I think he’s serious.’ She glanced over at Corrine and smiled as she took a swig of her drink. ‘What’s wrong, Bates, you scared?’
Every other candidate’s head turned. It seemed as if the bartender had their full attention.
Austin tried not to smile. The girl was good. She already knew how to press all his buttons. He’d have to watch her in future.
The bartender laughed. He must have seen this all before. And Taryn almost made it sound like a dare. ‘Just be thankful for equal opportunities.’ He winked at Austin. ‘One year it was all male candidates and all male instructors.’
The candidates around burst out laughing as Austin pushed the bar stool back and stood up. He put his bottle of beer back on the bar. He glanced over at Corrine. She was in mid conversation with her colleagues, her blonde hair sitting perfectly on her shoulders. She’d slipped off her jacket and was wearing a pale blue short-sleeved fitted shirt. He could see her defined, tanned arms and her long fingers playing in the condensation on the side of her glass. That simple act sent little pulses to places it shouldn’t.
He raised his eyebrows, straightened his uniform and gave a cheeky smile to his colleagues. ‘I’m never one to step away from a challenge,’ he said confidently.
His colleagues whoop-whooped around him. It was bravado. But only he knew that. He was pretty sure what was going to happen next.
Michael grinned. ‘Watch out, Bates. That’s a slippery slope you’re on.’
Austin blinked and took a final drink of his beer. ‘I know,’ he said, smiling as he walked over to the booth.
* * *
She’d seen him as soon as she’d entered the bar. It was amazing how supersonic your vision could become when you focused on not looking at someone. Really focused on not looking at someone. It was much harder than you thought.
The gin wasn’t nearly as refreshing as she wanted it to be. Usually just a few sips made her chill. Tonight she was wound up tighter than a coiled spring. She shuffled along next to the other instructors, slipped off her suit jacket and tried to focus on what they were saying.
‘His points were off the chart.’
‘He really scored that highly?’
She took another sip of her gin. ‘Who are we talking about?’
‘Bates. Austin Mitchell. Also known as Superboy.’
Great. Perfect. The last person she wanted to talk about. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call him a boy.’
Marcia, one of the other instructors, raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? Then just what would you call him?’
The other instructors started laughing good-humouredly. Frank, the guy on her left, nudged her. ‘You gave him the news—how was he?’
Corrine tried not to look flustered and she remembered exactly how he’d looked in that dark hangar with his smouldering eyes. ‘A pain in the neck. He’s too confident.’
‘Aren’t they all?’ Marcia laughed.
Corrine shook her head. ‘No. Not at all. Lisa Kravitz the school teacher—she didn’t expect it at all. She was totally stunned. Lewis Donnell, the marine—he and his whole unit couldn’t have made more noise if they’d tried.’
Marcia looked at her curiously. ‘So what did Bates do that was so different?’
Corrine licked her lips. The mixture of gin and cherry ChapStick wasn’t exactly enticing. She was still annoyed by his less than enthusiastic reaction. ‘Nothing. That was exactly the point. Nothing. It was like he’d expected it all along. I mean, there’s no way anyone could be that confident. There are a thousand different reasons a candidate wouldn’t be selected for the programme.’
Adam—the oldest instructor and a former astronaut himself—gave a secret kind of smile. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes that’s the best attitude. The winning attitude. You don’t have room in your mind to think it won’t actually happen.’
Corrine sighed and ran her finger around the edge of her glass. She’d changed her mind about the gin. A spritzer would have hit the mark much better. She reached over for an empty wine glass on the table and filled it up with some white wine sitting in a cooler next to Marcia.
‘What’s the deal with the call sign anyway? Shouldn’t it be something much cooler?’
‘Like what?’ Frank took a swig of his beer and shifted in his seat.
‘You know, like Maverick or Viper or Cougar or... Lightning.’ She was grasping at straws now.
Frank shook his head. ‘You watch way too many movies, Corrine.’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘But why Bates? It’s not anything like his name. And it’s kind of boring.’
Frank laughed. ‘Oh, that’s easy.’ Then he shook his head. ‘And it’s certainly not boring.’
She wrinkled her nose. Frank had been a Top Gun instructor too. Maybe it was some weird navy thing she didn’t know about.
He held out his hand towards her. ‘Let me expand it a little for you. Bates. Norman Bates.’
Corrine blinked and glanced from person to person around the table. Everyone else seemed to have caught on immediately. ‘What do you mean? That he’s crazy?’
The others started to laugh.
‘But that’s impossible. Our pilots undergo complete psychological evaluations. We can’t have anyone that’s a risk taker. That could compromise the mission.’
Adam shook his head. ‘Oh, he’s not crazy. But he’s made some of the gutsiest flight moves I’ve ever seen. That’s how he earned his call sign. And we need people that can make good decisions under pressure—even when it seems like the chips are down. If Austin Mitchell makes it to the space station I think he’ll be a great asset to our programme.’ He raised his glass. ‘I’d even take bets on him making it.’
Marcia shook her head. ‘I’m not taking that bet. He’s too good.’
Frank shook his head too. ‘Me either. I know a shoo-in when I see one.’
Corrine started to get annoyed. Everyone seemed to think this guy was great. They hadn’t seen the gleam of arrogance in his eyes. The one that had prickled her senses in all the wrong places. There were some catcalls from the other side of the bar. A little tremor danced down her spine but there was no way she was turning around.
‘Uh-oh.’ Marcia smiled as she pushed her glass around the table. ‘It looks like Superboy is on his way over.’
She couldn’t help it. Corrine turned towards the bar. Austin Mitchell was walking straight towards them. No. Straight towards her. His eyes locked with hers. That darn white uniform showed off the width of his shoulders and chest. The gold on his epaulettes gleamed at her. But the thing that freaked her out most was the confident
