it into his briefcase. “Second choice?” he asked Vicente.
“I’ll get back to you.”
“I think I’ll ask my PA to join you. Helena at least follows the sport, though she has never participated in any events. I gave her a ride last year and she liked it.”
“Send me her name and phone number and I’ll talk to her,” Stefano said. “And I’ll have one of my chase crew contact yours. There will be no sabotage. He’ll help as a regular crew member—only be there to verify the times and distances.”
“Do we get rights of refusal?” Rafael asked.
“If both agree,” Stefano replied.
“Then start writing your check,” Rafael said, deliberately goading the other man.
Amalia thought about the report that still needed finishing. She didn’t have time to stand around and listen to two very wealthy men talk about a silly hot air balloon race. The fifty thousand Euros they bandied around so easily would make a world of difference in her life. To most people’s lives. To these men it was chump change. Betting on a balloon race seemed frivolous in the extreme.
“Maybe we should sweeten the pot a bit. Loser has to present to winner in front of the Barcelona Business Alliance at the next quarterly meeting,” Rafael suggested.
Amalia looked at Rafael, seeing the devilment in his eyes. He was wild and daring, and she strongly suspected he loved every moment of this. It was obvious he never expected to lose; he rarely did. Not only did he have pots of money, he had the best luck in the world, if the newspapers could be believed. From learning to fly a few years ago, to deep sea diving, to this newest hobby of hot air ballooning, he loved to challenge himself—and anyone involved in the sport with him.
Stefano gathered his copy of the contract and held it out for Amalia. She stepped closer to take it and then retreated to the door of his office.
Standing, Stefano held out his hand to Rafael. “May the best man win, and I intend to!”
Rafael stood, as well, and shook his hand. “Prepare your presentation speech for the BBA’s meeting. It had better be good, to wipe out the sting of humiliation.”
Amalia opened the door for the departing man. When Rafael drew level with her, he looked at her again. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he said. “Find out what working with a winner is like.”
“My boss will win,” she said loyally.
He shook his head and winked at her before walking past. She could smell the expensive aftershave lotion he used—something fresh and woodsy. Perfect for him. She felt the attraction that seemed like an invisible aura around him and for a split second she wished that wink had meant something special.
When Rafael Sandoval left her anteroom and walked toward the elevators, she turned and looked at her boss. While not as notorious as his competitor, he could still claim outrageous behavior and daring escapades that made the papers. How his wife stood it all these years was a mystery to Amalia.
She looked at her boss. “Can you win?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said easily. Walking back to his desk, he looked at her. “But I need your help. I want you to go with Sandoval.”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid of heights. Besides, what would I talk to the man about?”
He laughed. “No need to worry about that. He’ll be too busy trying to outmaneuver me. Don’t worry about receiving a pass from the man, you aren’t his type. He likes luscious, sophisticated prima donnas, not hardworking businesswomen. The intent is to make sure he isn’t getting help from a ringer.”
Amalia shook her head again. She couldn’t go off on a hot air balloon ride. Even if she didn’t have a phobia about heights, she had work to do. Her brother to take care of. She’d have to find a way to convince Stefano it would be a mistake. He was too focused on the need to one-up Rafael Sandoval to worry about a mere personal assistant’s reasons for refusing.
“I need to get the Tunisia report finished. And you need to think of another choice. I really can’t do it.” Turning, she headed for the door.
“Then call Teresa Valesquez for me, will you?” he asked. “I might get her interested. Maybe she would distract Rafael long enough for me to have an easy triumph.”
Amalia nodded and kept walking. Teresa Valesquez was Rafael’s latest girlfriend. Amalia had recently read about them attending a reception together. The accompanying picture had captured the worldly look of his latest. Her sleek, short blond hair contrasted so well with her dark eyes. The gown she’d worn was the latest fashion and had looked fabulous on her figure.
Except, would she still be around by the time the balloon race began? The one thing Amalia had noticed was how frequently Rafael changed companions. The balloon race was still a couple of weeks away—plenty of time for him to find a new woman and for Teresa to be old news.
She sat at her desk and looked up the phone number for Ms. Valesquez. When she was on the line, Amalia clicked her over to Stefano’s phone. She could finish the report if she had no more interruptions before close of business.
Just before five, she finished the last set and put them in the envelopes for different staff members. That was a major project completed. The rest of the week should be a breeze—or as much as it ever was working for Stefano Vicente. She liked her job well enough; she found it interesting and fulfilling. Which was good, since she’d likely be at it for another four or five years. Once her brother was out of college and on his own, she’d give a thought to returning to school to work for her own degree—interrupted barely months after she’d started university by the death of her parents.
Amalia’s goal remained to become a graphic designer—working with multinational corporations to develop and maintain Web pages. She loved playing around on computers. She’d streamlined many of the office functions through technology. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy her. She wanted new horizons. She dabbled in Web design for friends, but looked for more challenges and a monetary reward for her work.
When she’d expressed that interest to Stefano a couple of years ago, asking if she could switch divisions, he’d refused. He hadn’t wanted to break in another new PA. Maybe she did her job too well, but it wasn’t in her to do less than her best.
At least she had a good position that enabled them to live in a modest flat. After their parents were killed, there had been more debt than assets. Once everything had been sold, there was nothing left for extras. Amalia could still remember the panic she felt knowing that Jose depended entirely on her. She’d only been nineteen, Jose a mere eight. She’d floundered those first couple of years until she began to work for this firm.
Promotions had moved her up, and her current job now paid enough to save a bit for college for her younger brother. One more year of public school and he’d be off to university. He wanted to be a physicist. He’d probably be over the moon with a chance to ride in a hot air balloon. She dare not tell him; he’d badger her forever to take advantage of the opportunity.
She shut off her computer, tidied her desk and donned her serviceable raincoat. She was already planning the evening meal she’d prepare for herself and Jose.
Stefano stepped into her office.
“I
