they not only had to do the job, but do it well. Not a problem, Dexter thought to himself, since he’d been a terminal overachiever since his preschool days.
“Wait a minute, Gramps,” Sam said, his brow furrowed. “Dex and I already have jobs at the company. Why do we have to work somewhere else?”
Amos leaned back in his seat. “The purpose of the game is to prove how important the family business is to you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. You might even enjoy it.”
Dexter didn’t want to work anywhere else. He’d lived and breathed the business for the last decade. Running the Kane Corporation was a natural for him. He didn’t have his brother’s charm or his parents’ social acumen, a fact made painfully clear to him as he was growing up. After a while, Dexter had quit trying to fit in with the crowd and concentrated on his intellectual skills.
Now he was so close to achieving his dream. And certainly more qualified than Sam to take over the business. Hell, his brother would probably institute a four-day workweek and a casual dress code. It wasn’t fair. Sam had always had everything going for him. Looks. Charisma. Women. All Dexter wanted was the company.
But to get it, he had to play a silly game.
Dexter glanced at Sam, all the old feelings bubbling to the surface. They’d been fierce competitors since sharing the same playpen. Dexter had organized their blocks by color while Sam had cajoled their nanny into giving him the extra cookies. They hadn’t changed much since then. Dexter thrived on work, while Sam preferred playtime. But they did have one thing in common—they both wanted the family business. And their grandfather was a firm believer in winner takes all.
“The game will end at midnight exactly one month from today,” Amos continued. “We’ll meet at my office to crown the winner. There are only three rules to follow. First, you cannot tell anyone you’re playing the game or your real occupation. Second, you cannot contact each other during the duration of the game.” He smiled. “And third, you must follow the directions of any game card you receive along the way. So expect a surprise or two in the next few weeks.”
“Well, count me in,” Sam said. “It sounds like a blast.” He held up his envelope. “Can I open it?”
“The sooner you do, the sooner we can start the game,” Amos replied.
Sam ripped the seal and pulled out his game card. “Well, look at this.” He flipped the card around so Dexter could see it.
“Salesman for Midnight Lace?” Dexter read aloud. “You have to sell ladies’ lingerie?”
Sam grinned. “Now that’s what I call a dream job.”
Dexter carefully slit open his envelope, then pulled out his game card. He looked at it, then blinked and read it again. This had to be some kind of joke.
“Well,” Sam asked, leaning over to look at the game card, “what’s your new place of employment?”
Dexter swallowed. “A male escort agency.”
Sam grinned. “You mean my brother is going to become a gigolo?”
Dexter turned to his grandfather, ready to argue for a different occupation. He was the last man qualified for such a job. He wasn’t even sure it was legal.
But the parachutes in Amos’s hands made the objections die on his lips.
“Here you go, boys. Put these on, then you can hit the ground running.”
Sam frowned. “What are those for?”
“To break your fall when you jump out of the plane.” Amos handed a parachute to each of them.
Sam glanced up at Dexter, then back to their grandfather, who was affectionately known as Crazy Amos around the office. And for good reason. “Did you forget to take your medication again?”
Amos waved the question away. “We’ve covered that topic already. I think jumping out of this plane is the perfect way to start the game.”
Dexter glanced out the window. “Where exactly are we?”
“Just outside of Pittsburgh,” Amos replied. “Lots of grassy pastures and flat farmland around so you shouldn’t get hurt when you land.”
“But how are we supposed to find our way back to the city?” Sam asked.
“That’s part of the game.” Amos rubbed his hands together. “This way neither one of you has an unfair advantage. You both start from the same point.”
One of the co-pilots emerged from the cockpit and helped Dexter and Sam strap on their parachutes, giving them a crash course on skydiving at the same time. As Dexter was strapped into the harness and learning new words like altimeter, free fall and static line, he wondered if this was some kind of nightmare brought on by pulling too many all-nighters at the office.
But the next thing he knew, they were standing near the open door of the airplane. The pilot announced over the intercom that they had reached an altitude of thirteen thousand feet and could jump anytime.
“You go ahead, Dexter,” Sam yelled over the roar of the plane. “You’re the oldest.”
Dexter wanted to argue, but his pride prevented him from backing out now. He took a deep breath, then moved toward the door, his fingers fumbling for the rip cord of the reserve parachute. His life flashed briefly before his eyes, filled mostly with images of him hunching over textbooks in the college library on Saturday night and working long hours at a computer terminal. He hadn’t come this far, made this many sacrifices, to give up now.
“Need a push, big brother?” Sam asked with a grin.
Dexter ignored him, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. The moment that he’d been waiting for and working for his entire life.
All he had to do was take the first step.
He leaned forward, his right hand tightly gripping the top of the door frame. For one brief moment, he panicked, realizing he couldn’t recall any memories other than school or work. No special moments. No special woman. But what did it matter now?
Then he jumped.
1
KYLIE TIMBERLAKE HIT the ground hard as an arrow flew over her head and imbedded itself in the towering fir tree behind her. She inhaled the pungent scent of pine needles and heard the menacing growl of the Doberman pinscher chained up on the front porch of the secluded cabin.
“That was just a warning shot,” called a gravelly voice from the open window. “You’re trespassing on private property. Next time I won’t miss.”
She lifted her head far enough to make certain the dog was still tethered. “It’s me, Mr. Hanover. Kylie Timberlake.”
As she lay on the damp ground, she wondered if her family was right. Maybe she was too impulsive. Maybe she wouldn’t even be in this predicament if she’d ever paused long enough to consider all the consequences of her actions.
But
