and a lot of fun. There’s nothing like soaring a couple of thousand feet above the earth. Watching the landscape drift by below, going where the wind takes you.”
“Unless you get tangled in power lines and get zapped, or go down in the Med and drown before rescue, or—” Or just fall from the basket and splat on the ground. She shook her head at the horrible image that popped into her mind.
“That happens, like, once in a lifetime.” Stefano laughed.
“It could be your lifetime, or the end of it!”
“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t had even so much as a near miss in all the years I’ve been doing this. Anyway, you’re off the hook. Teresa Valesquez is delighted to be going with Rafael. I think she expects a ring on her finger by the end of the trip. Doubt he’ll ask, though, because he hasn’t so far. He strikes me as the perpetual playboy bachelor who’s having far too much fun to get tied down. See you in the morning,” he added, turning and reentering his office.
She grabbed her umbrella, wondering if that or her raincoat would be much protection against the deluge that continued.
Stepping outside a few moments later, Amalia paused beneath the building’s portico debating whether or not to dash to the bus stop without her umbrella raised and hope she didn’t become soaked, or give in to the inevitable and use the umbrella until the wind turned it inside out.
A sleek black sports car drew to a stop at the curb in front of her. The passenger window slid down.
“Need a lift?”
She leaned over a bit to peer in. Rafael Sandoval looked back at her.
“Get in, I’ll drive you home,” he ordered.
Normally Amalia would object to his imperious tone, but she was pragmatic enough to appreciate a ride in the storm. She quickly got into the car as the window slid up.
“Why?” she asked as she fastened her seat belt.
“To get to know you, of course.”
As the car pulled back into traffic, Amalia sighed softly. The luxurious leather interior even smelled like wealth. The seat cushioned her lovingly, and she surreptitiously rubbed her fingers against its softness. “There’s no need. Stefano got Teresa Valesquez to agree to accompany you on the balloon race. I won’t be going.”
Would he let her off at the next corner now that there was no need to become better acquainted?
“Damn, I don’t know which is worse, you or Teresa,” he said, moving to another lane as traffic began to get heavy.
“Thanks a lot,” she murmured, not feeling kindly toward the man. She fervently hoped he lost the race to her boss just to take him down a peg or two!
“They say ‘better the devil you know,’ but I’m not so sure. I do know Teresa and the spin she’s sure to put on this. You’re an unknown, but at least I know you have no ulterior motive.”
“I’m not going, so there’s no more to say,” Amalia said firmly.
“Still, I’m not dumping you in the rain. Where to?”
She lived in an older section of town, with lots of flats and small markets, winding streets and little parking. Nothing like the palatial home he must live in surrounded by gardens and giving a stupendous view of the city and the Med.
“It’s off Via Estrada,” she said.
“So what’s Vicente’s game plan?” he asked a moment later, easily driving in the rainy evening twilight.
“He wants to win,” Amalia pointed out dryly.
“So do I,” Rafael said.
“He thinks you’ll be distracted by Ms. Valesquez and that will give him the edge,” she said, hoping to startle him.
Rafael glanced at her a second. “Honest. Hmm…unusual.”
“Then you must hang out with the wrong people,” she snapped. First he considered she would sabotage his race, now he seemed surprised to find her an honest person. The nerve of the man! She clutched her purse tighter, hoping she could hold on to her temper until she reached home.
“Touchy, too. I bet there’s temper in there somewhere,” he mocked. “But being the perfect little personal assistant to Vicente, I’m sure you’ve damped that down a lot.”
She wanted to say something pithy to knock him off his high horse, but nothing came to mind. She hated that!
“Do you think Teresa would distract me?” he asked, turning onto Via Estrada.
“I have no idea,” she replied stiffly. His affair with the beautiful woman was none of her business. She refused to speculate based on the innuendos of the press. “If you and my boss have to have a stupid race, I suspect one distraction would be equal to another.”
“So maybe I should find a beautiful woman to ride with him.”
Amalia said nothing. Rafael had to know Stefano was married. Did he think Stefano would be unfaithful to his wife for a balloon race?
“No thoughts?” he pressed.
“None you want to hear,” she murmured. “Turn at the second traffic signal, right. Then three blocks to Via Escondito.”
“Maybe I do want to hear,” he said.
She hesitated a moment, but knowing she was almost home, she felt reckless. “It’s that stupid bet. Don’t you think the two of you could find better use for that much money than betting it against each other? There are hungry children, sick people, homeless in the world who could benefit.”
“I give to charity,” he protested.
He couldn’t see it; his type never would. She shook her head. He lived so differently from the masses.
“Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll turn over my winnings to your favorite charity. You just name it and I’ll sign the check right over.”
She looked at him in astonishment. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“Why not? The money isn’t the important part of the wager, the winning is.”
Amalia turned to look out at the street. She couldn’t imagine carelessly dismissing fifty thousand Euros.
When he reached her apartment building a few minutes later, he stopped in front and looked up through the windshield. The building was old, but still interesting, with stonework embellishments and tall windows.
“Is the inside also old, or has it been renovated?”
“The building is almost a hundred years old, so of course the inside has been renovated.” About fifty years ago, but Amalia saw no need to tell him that.
He looked at her. “I’m sorry you won’t be going with me. I love a challenge.”
Amalia
