Cleo felt a stab of guilt at the false name. “Not really. I’m sure there are others who feel the same way. Thanks for bringing me here. I’ll never forget my walk in the sky.”
Still, she understood her greatest thrill had come not from walking along the floor itself but from doing it with Sam. It had been his arm through hers, holding her tightly to his side, that had made the walk pure magic. Sam wanted her to get a souvenir of her first Skywalk, and rather than make a scene, she selected a coffee mug with I walked in the sky written on it and a package of postcards. Not satisfied, Sam insisted on getting her a magnificent turquoise and silver earring and necklace set that she would cherish always. It would look great with the white eyelet dress she planned to wear tomorrow.
• • •
Sam settled into his chair on the helicopter and smiled at Cleo. He loved the way he could see her enjoyment clearly written on her face. For the first time in a long time, someone he was growing to care about was genuinely happy doing the simple things he’d forgotten how much he enjoyed. She didn’t insist on the best all the time and didn’t take anything for granted. She’d been upset at pulling rank at the Skywalk, and he’d appeased her somewhat when he’d gotten water for all those waiting in line.
She hadn’t fiddled with her hair, checked her face, or tugged at her clothes once today. She’d retouched the lip gloss after he’d put the sunscreen on her and that was it. He admired the way her face lit up when she spoke about her dad, and he could see she was genuinely worried about him. The most amazing thing was the way she glowed when she had a camera in her hands. She was a beautiful woman, yet she didn’t like having her picture taken, something else that was new to him. Most of the women he’d dated were always smiling for the camera, not hiding behind its lens.
Charlie’s warning about not finding his perfect woman in a sea of gold-diggers came back to him. He swallowed his unease and smiled. She hadn’t volunteered a lot about herself—in fact getting her to talk about herself was like pulling teeth. Just when things got interesting, she switched the topic, and while it might be modesty, could she be doing it on purpose to ensnare him—entice him as the mysterious woman? No, Cleo wasn’t playing him false. He refused to believe it.
He reached for the champagne spritzer he’d poured and handed her a glass.
“Not more champagne? I’ll be loaded by suppertime. Are you trying to get me drunk again? You did a pretty good job of it last night.”
Too good, and he’d walked away unsatisfied. “Moi?” The look of surprise on her face made him chuckle.
“Yes, toi. I took high school French too, but I suppose it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t twist my arm or anything. I just want to keep my wits about me today.”
“Believe it or not, the mimosas were primarily orange juice, and the flutes barely held three ounces. The spritzers are ice and soda as well as wine. You had breakfast, so you’re not drinking on an empty stomach. You’ve had two glasses since the Hoover Dam. You probably burned off whatever alcohol was in it on the Skywalk. That was an adrenaline rush, wasn’t it?”
“It certainly was. Dad would have liked it, too. Maybe I can talk him into coming here someday.”
“You mentioned your dad had traveled as part of his job. Where did he go?”
“Here and there. No place special. I didn’t go with him if that’s what you’re asking. Tell me, what does Walter do for the company? Is he an architect as well?”
There it is—she’s changed the topic again. Why is she avoiding my question about her dad? He wanted to press her for answers, but responded to her question instead.
“No. Walter’s an ironworker. His father’s Mohawk, but his mother is Hualapai. They met when his dad was working on the World Trade Center. It seems among his people, being a sky walker, working the high scaffolding, is a mark of warrior pride. Walter feels the same way. The job in Wales involves renovating a castle. While I’ll be bringing the inside of the place into the twenty-first century, he’ll be doing pointing on the castle walls. One of them is on the edge of an ocean cliff. He’ll hang from the harness and fix the mortar between the stones.”
“I’m not afraid of heights, but I’m not that fond of water. I don’t think I could do that.”
“Few could. That’s why he makes the big bucks.”
She chuckled. “Well, he’ll certainly earn them hanging off a castle wall.” She sipped her cocktail. “You’re spoiling me, you know. I’m having the time of my life. Flying around like this, looking down at the canyon, makes me realize how much of the world I haven’t seen. I’d planned to see the Grand Canyon today in a helicopter, that’s true, but never like this. I can’t thank your friend enough for his generosity.”
He felt a twinge of guilt. This was a chance to tell her the truth. She’d made that comment about not using people for their money, and she seemed genuine. But is she? Or is this just an act? She has secrets she’s keeping too. I’ll let the day play out and tell her tonight.
“Cleo, there are incredible places in the world for you to see and photograph. Today is just the tip of the iceberg. All it takes is a passport. You’ve got one, right?”
She nodded. “I do. Mitch and I went to Baja last year.”
“That’s great. There are some amazing places I’d like to take you.”
Cleo smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. It was the second time today she’d given a halfhearted response. Rather than comment, Sam drew her attention back to the scenery. Once he told her the truth, she’d see that what he was suggesting was possible. She’d understand he could give her everything she could ever want. But would she want it? Her earlier comment came back to him. He reached for her and she came willingly onto his chair and into his arms. He relaxed.
“Now, sit back and watch Mother Nature’s color show. Matt’s going to take us down over two thousand feet to the canyon floor.”
“Sit back? No way.” She leaned forward, picked up her camera, and settled onto the edge of the seat. He wanted her in his arms, but the wide expanse of window beckoned to her camera’s eye. As the helicopter dropped into the canyon, he watched the wonder on her face as the cream, gray, and white Kaibab limestone gave way to the layers of yellow and gray sandstone, and then the deep rust-colored stone of the Tonto platform layer. The red and tan Supai stone and deep brown Redwall limestone followed until they reached the areas of gray and cream granite and schist at the bottom.
“That was astounding. I had no idea the rock changed color that way. I’d seen hundreds of pictures, but they don’t do it justice. I hope I can.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s you.” He meant every word. “Since it’s just past one, the sun is still high in the canyon, but it’ll soon move west and leave us in the shadows. On our way up, the brilliant colors you saw will all appear to be shades of tan and brown. Night comes early in the canyon, even in summer. Look, we’ve landed.”
Chapter Twelve
While Matt set up the chairs and side tables stored in the helicopter, Sam escorted Cleo to the edge of the Colorado River. The weather warning Matt had mentioned concerned Sam, who had several men working on the solar farm project near Ely. Matt had called the field office as Sam had instructed him to, and the news wasn’t good. There were a dozen men out in the desert; six of them were on their way back to town, but the other six couldn’t be reached. There were a number of dead spots in the desert where cell phone reception didn’t exist. The weather service had issued a flash flood warning for the area. Those were his men—working today because he’d insisted on his crazy around the clock schedule. Sure, he paid them well, but if anything happened …
“You look a million miles away. Was it something I said?” Cleo asked as she put down her camera.
“I’m here now.” He pointed to the river. “Looks impressive, doesn’t it?” he asked. Cleo nodded and took another photograph.
“It looks so calm and inviting. It’s not as warm here as it was on the Skywalk, but I wish I’d brought my swimsuit
.”
“Don’t let the air temperature fool you. The river seems calm enough, and from here you can barely see the current, but believe me, there’s a vicious undertow. It’s against park regulations to swim in the river. The water temperature’s about fifty degrees, and the river’s full of debris from mudslides and flashfloods. Tourists die in it each year because they don’t follow the rules and insist on going into the river, unaware of the dangers hidden beneath the surface. There’s a great place we can go swimming one day if you want to. Come on. I’m starving.”
He led her back beside the helicopter and opened the basket. The hotel had provided cold meats, salads, fresh rolls, water, and wine.
“This is great.” Cleo took a bite of the do-it-yourself sandwich she’d made. “Does that helicopter tour I was going to take come near here?”
“No, it lands further west. It doesn’t come this far. This area is still part of the Reserve. So, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for fun?”
“Not much. I enjoy watching sports on television. I work out at the gym at least once a week, and I like to walk. Spending time with Mitch provides most of the excitement in my life. What do you do?”
“I enjoy sports too, but I prefer live action to television. I never miss Frozen Fury, the L.A. Kings preseason game in Vegas. I’ve seen the USA Men’s Basketball team play a few times as well. Living near Calgary, I’ll bet you must go to a few games each year. They have a great NHL team there and a Canadian football team, too.”
Cleo choked on the water she’d swallowed. “Sorry, went down the wrong hole. No, I don’t go to the games; the tickets cost more than Dad and I can afford. Lunch is delicious; you’ll have to thank your sister for me.”
Sam nodded. Matt excused himself to make a few calls and give them some time alone. He’d give the man a bonus so he could take his wife out for a night on the town. Sam leaned back, a glass of the chardonnay he’d opened for lunch in his hand. He could stay like this for hours. He loved listening to Cleo talk and he was fascinated by the wide range of topics they discussed. She knew more about vintage cars than a lot of his friends did, and while she hadn’t traveled much, she knew enough about a lot of places, San Francisco included, to make astute comments and ask intelligent questions. They discussed everything from Mitch’s latest bestseller to the most recent environmental crisis.
What she didn’t do was talk about herself, and he wanted her to. He wanted to know everything about her, but she seemed uncomfortable with that topic. He wanted to know what made Cleo Jones happy, sad, and every emotion in between. She wasn’t obsessed with fashion or politics, and he found the change refreshing, especially after Lena who’d been obsessed with political aspirations.
Cleo sat back and smiled. “Mom always believed that you should live each day as if it were your last, and you should never do anything you’d regret in case you didn’t get a chance to make things better. That’s the way I try to live my life, but Mitch says I’m too cautious. I don’t take any risks or chances. She’s wrong. I’ve stepped way out of my comfort zone this weekend, and I’m really glad I have.”
“Being with me, like this, is different, isn’t it?” He’d noticed the tension in her voice.
She played with her napkin, folding it as small as she could get it and then opening it again. “Yes, it is. I generally play it safe. I’m not this adventurous. My life is predictable, orderly. Each decision is analyzed, weighed, and re-examined again. Everything about this weekend is as far away from my version of normal as it can get.”
“I’m glad you decided to be daring. This is one of the best times I’ve had in years.”
It only took him a second to realize that what he’d said was true. All those fancy trips and vacations he’d taken with Lena had been more of a burden than a pleasure. The month they’d spent in Italy had been filled with one argument after another. She’d resented the fact that he’d worked part of the time, and he’d been grateful for every minute he could spend apart from her.
The villa in Tuscany would be different with Cleo. He pictured her on the ornate carved bed in the master suite, naked, her alabaster skin aglow in the candlelight, and he hardened.
Damn! Thank God for cloth napkins. Cleo seemed oblivious to his discomfort.
He felt himself relax, and the painful need in his groin subsided until he was comfortable with this angel who asked for nothing but his companionship. He hoped to convince her to give him a chance to prove they could have a long-term relationship that might blossom into something more. He was convinced Cleo was as far removed from a gold digger as any woman could get, but given her comments about money, he wasn’t sure the truth about himself would set him free. It might just create another obstacle.
While they’d eaten, the sun had moved westward, plunging the canyon into shadow, and she shivered. “I see what you mean about the temperature dropping when the sun does.”
He reached for his light jacket and placed it over her shoulders. “Come on. Time to move on. It’ll be warmer where were going. There’s a latrine over on the other side of the brush. Watch where you’re walking—there are rattlesnakes and gopher snakes in this area. You don’t want to mistake one for the other. Since the sun’s gone down, most of them will have moved off.”
“You’re joking, right?” The fear in her voice was unmistakable.
“Are you afraid of snakes?”
“Absolutely terrified of them. I don’t really need to go. I’ll be good until we get somewhere else.”
“I’ll walk you over. I guess I could use the facilities as well.”
He smiled at the look of gratitude she gave him. They made it to the portable washroom and back without incident. Cleo didn’t complain about the less than optimal conditions of the facility either. When they returned to the helicopter, Matt was on the radio, and the look on his face spoke of trouble.
“Sorry, Sam. We have to call off the rest of the tour. Six of our men are trapped in a small canyon. The flash flood hit the solar farm just outside of Ely, and the guys didn’t get the warning in time to get out. They need the chopper for a rescue mission. I’ll take you back to Henderson. The company’s extraction team and paramedics are waiting there. It’ll take a little over an hour to get back and almost that long again to get to Ely.”
Sam nodded, suddenly all business. Years ago, two of his employees had died in a flash flood when the rescue team had been unable to get to them in time. History was not going to repeat itself. He could see the confusion, and concern on Cleo’s face. While he regretted having to end their date this way, the men’s safety came first.
“We’ve got to get back to Vegas,” he apologized. “This is the best helicopter for a rescue mission in a storm. It’s the most stable one in the fleet. It’s also the only one in the area because of the holiday. I have to sit up front with Matt to organize stuff on the ground. I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”
Her face was filled with compassion. “Don’t worry about me, Sam. Do whatever needs to be done. Those men need help. I’ll be fine. We can finish the tour another time.”
He took her into his arms and kissed her hungrily. He pulled away, handed her a glass of wine, and left the cabin to join Matt in the cockpit.
• • •
Cleo sat quietly in her chair contemplating the landscape beneath her. She assumed they were traveling as directly as possible toward Henderson. It was mid-afternoon. She wasn’t sure exactly what Sam’s responsibilities were in a situation like this. Perhaps he was like a volunteer fireman or something. Maybe that was how he’d gotten calluses on his hands. Whatever Sam’s expertise in the matter was, Matt obviously expected him to be involved in this, and she was certain Sam was up to the task.
She’d poured herself another glass of champagne and sipped it while she watched the helicopter eat up the distance to their destination. She didn’t know much about Ely, the town closest to the flash flood area, but she did know it was in a semi-arid section of the state a
nd subject to extremes in temperature. It might have been over a hundred there this afternoon, but the temperature could easily drop below fifty by evening. Those men would be in serious trouble if they didn’t get rescued in time, and if any of them were injured …
She let her mind wander to the contradiction that was Sam. It was obvious that the men who knew him respected him—the way Matt and Walter deferred to him for example, or the way the security guards had jumped to do his bidding last night. No matter how hard she tried, he simply didn’t fit her idea of a male exotic dancer. It was true that image was colored by the conservative attitudes of her father and others, but something about him didn’t feel right, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. He said he designed homes and restored old houses. While he might have needed the quick money his dancing career provided when his parents had died, architects, even junior, part-time ones, were well paid. Surely he made enough at his other job he didn’t need to moonlight?
She sighed. Maybe he was more like Dave than she wanted to believe. Once Dave had inherited that money, acquiring more wealth had consumed him. He’d spent lavishly to impress others, but his eye had always been on the main chance. He’d become a user—using and consuming people and not caring who got hurt in the process. He had bought other companies in trouble and sold them off for profit. He hadn’t even tried to turn them around—he had destroyed and dismantled them. He hadn’t let anyone or anything stand in his way. She couldn’t, no wouldn’t live that way. It had caused so many arguments, and eventually, it had ripped them apart. The relationship had been over long before she’d found him in their bed with another woman.
Even though Sam didn’t seem to destroy others, the bottom line was the same. Money mattered to him. He took what he wanted, when he wanted it—the special treatment at the Skywalk had emphasized that. In five days, no matter his profession, Sam was leaving for Wales, and come September he’d be doing whatever he chose to do, while she’d be standing in front of a classroom trying to teach the next Einstein.
Just for the Weekend Page 13