Sandoval in conversation? She almost laughed aloud imagining her friends’ reactions.
The bell announcing the elevator shattered her foolish thoughts.
It was dark when the wake-up call came. Amalia struggled with the desire to go back to sleep, but knew Rafael wasn’t past demanding security open the door and admit him so he himself could drag her from bed, so she reluctantly got up and dressed as quickly as she could. Tossing everything back into her bag, she was ready five minutes ahead of time. Leaving the room, she rode an empty elevator to the lobby.
The lobby was quiet and subdued compared to last night. Even the lights were dimmed. She took her bag to the large entrance where a bellman took it and soon had it stored on the chase truck. Most of the crew was already standing by the truck talking and they greeted her cheerfully. When Rafael joined them a few seconds later, they took off for the field.
Amalia was better prepared for today’s outing, though she constantly scanned the sky to see if there was any sign of the storms they talked about. The stars shone brightly everywhere. Not a cloud in the dark expanse.
Her anxiety rose as the balloon filled. She gratefully took the mug of coffee someone handed her, sipping the hot beverage and hoping she could cope again today. She was a bit proud of herself for sticking with it yesterday. Even though fleeing to a town would have been impossible, she was glad she hadn’t tried. Even Jose had been encouraging during last night’s phone call, after asking her for every detail. Telling her how lucky she was to be able to make the long jump.
“Ready?” Rafael asked.
She glanced at him, taking in the fact he looked wide-awake and excited. Obviously waiting in the dark didn’t dampen his spirits at all.
“As I’ll ever be,” she said, holding out the cup to one of the crew as they walked by.
“I hope by the end of the trip you don’t look as if you’re going to the guillotine every time you approach the basket.”
“Maybe if you had some phobia, you’d be more sympathetic,” she replied smartly.
“Maybe my phobia is losing, something I don’t intend to explore. Let’s go. We can get an early start on Vicente today. They were still at the hotel when we left. If we ride the wind just right we can gain more ground.”
“It’s still dark,” she said, once in the basket and watching as the team released the tether lines and slowly began to grow smaller beneath them.
The jets roared. The glow in the balloon was the only light around until they rose high enough to see the streetlights and windows of the resort.
“It’ll be light soon enough. Watch the eastern horizon, you’ll see it’s lightening there now. No power lines around, nothing but clear skies and smooth sailing and, we hope, a fast wind,” he called over the sound of the burners.
Standing near the side, still an arm’s length away, Amalia didn’t feel the fear she normally did; instead she felt an odd sense of anticipation. It was odd to look out and see dark rolling hills silhouetted against a starry sky with few scattered lights on the ground below. There was no sense of height or distance in the diffused light of early dawn. She should enjoy what she could. She would never do something like this again.
Turning, she stepped next to Rafael.
“Tell me what I can do.”
“About?” he asked.
“Winning this race.”
That surprised him, she could tell.
“Interesting. Why the change of heart?”
“What, that I would want to win? I’m competitive, too.”
“What happened to your calling it a stupid race?”
“Nothing, it still amazes me that two grown men would wager an extraordinary amount of money on a hot air balloon race, but after Stefano’s comments last night, I’m definitely switching loyalties for the duration. Besides, you have a fan in my brother. He suggested I reconsider my stance and give my team my all.”
Rafael said nothing, just studied the other balloon in the distance as it began to rise. “There’s nothing to do now, but you can spell me later on the burners.”
Could he trust her? Rafael wasn’t one to give his trust easily. He’d learned as a child to guard that which was his and count on no one but himself. Still … how much damage could she do unless she deliberately sabotaged something? Which was unlikely, as afraid of falling as she was.
“Fine.” She crossed to the corner, stacked the two blankets and sat down. As long as she was below the level of the basket she wasn’t as scared, but he wished she could enjoy the ride. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, bathing the earth in pure light. It was one of the joys he found in the sport. Gliding silently above the world when the burners were off.
Amalia leaned back against the basket, confident today it wouldn’t give way and let her fall. In fact, when she thought about things this morning, she realized she hadn’t felt the body-numbing fear she had yesterday. The notion brightened her outlook. She felt almost in charity with Rafael, forgiving him for forcing her on this adventure. As Jose had said, there were lots of people who paid for balloon rides. She was getting one for free.
Once the balloon reached the height to satisfy Rafael, he shut down the burners.
“Want something to eat?”
“I thought we were skipping breakfast.”
“We picked up some croissants before we left.”
She happily unwrapped the food while Rafael poured hot coffee from a thermos. In only moments they were enjoying a high-altitude picnic. She watched as he stood and kept looking around.
“So what made you challenge Stefano to this bet?” she asked.
“For the chance to win.”
“What if you can’t?”
He laughed. “Of course I can. Today we out-distance him, and by day five he won’t even see us we’ll be so far ahead.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “Stefano’s a show-off. He does spectacular stunts for notice. He’s never done a long jump before. And we’re away from crowds and media. Last night notwithstanding; those were local reporters, no one from Barcelona was there. Granted the news story would go out over the wires, but we’re not going to find a luxury hotel to stop in every night. Once there’s no one around to show off for, he’ll grow bored, and I’m hoping, sloppy in his efforts.”
“While you’re as driven as if this really meant something. Which it must, but I can’t figure out what. You don’t want the money, you’ve already said you’d donate that. So what do you get out of winning?”
“The satisfaction of beating him, and ramming home the point in front of the entire Barcelona Business Alliance.”
“Is this some kind of revenge?”
He
