And NASA had let me go. Well, fuck ’em. They weren’t the only way to get to space. And if this was the way I could show XVenture—and the world—that Commander Ryan Tyler, American Space Hero and whatever other dipshit title they had attributed to me, was just fine, then I’d do it.
Goddamn it all.
“I don’t need her to babysit me. I’ll do it,” I said finally.
Conrad Barrett smiled, leaning back. “Good. Because if you’re in, then so am I. And I insist that Gray manage the situation. I’ll feel a lot better about where my precious dollars are going.”
Gray shook her head vehemently.
“Now come on, Gracie,” he purred to her in a weird tone of voice that was almost creepy. Almost parental.
She stiffened at the reference, and I opened my mouth to speak up for her when he added, “If anyone can make this work, it’s my little girl.”
The room was silent.
You could have heard a pin drop. Well, I did hear a pen drop. The one I’d been clenching inside my fist dropped to the floor.
His little girl.
Gray was rolling her eyes and turning away, but not before I heard her mutter, barely audibly, “Dad.”
Well, didn’t that put a new spin on things?
Time passed, and the discussion continued for a few more minutes. The group asked me questions about the test flight. It was a quick shot into low earth orbit and a brief parabolic arc back down again, mirroring Alan Shepherd’s historic first trip into space in 1961. It would be the first such voyage beyond Earth’s atmosphere for a private astronaut.
The meeting wound down shortly thereafter, and I was still reeling, piecing together what it meant that my new babysitter was the daughter of the biggest investor. It explained a lot, and yet, left me more confused.
What exactly was her relationship with Tolan?
My question was partially answered when, as I was fielding questions from the clump of people who had surrounded me, I saw Tolan wind his way around the group and approach her. With one eye on what I was doing and the other on the two of them, I tilted my head to see if I could pick up what they were talking about.
Tolan took her upper arm in his grasp and bent his head toward hers as if to speak in confidence. But his voice carried enough for me to hear it.
“Checking in. Are you up for this? I’ll make sure we clear your schedule of everything else and make this a priority.”
The young lady flicked a glance in my direction, and I tried to focus on the conversation I was having. A few investors were asking about the nature of the test flight planned for this fall.
I missed Gray’s answer but noted again how Tolan’s hand slid to her shoulder before he removed it, nodding. There was a smile on his face. “He’s right, you know. You can pull this off, and I’d be—”
“You must be so excited to fly again.” My questioner pulled my attention back to him.
I nodded, taking a deep breath. “It’s an honor and a privilege.” And yes, probably worth the ridiculous hoops I was now being asked to jump through.
The babysitter, however, was more than I’d bargained for. My eyes drifted to the spot where little Miss Priss had been standing, only to note that she had faded away and headed toward the door.
“Excuse me a moment. I need to use the restroom.”
I pounded through that door, hot on her heels.
She was walking fast and had a few paces on me. We zigzagged through the empty halls of XVenture’s headquarters—all high ceilings, white walls, glass, and chrome accents. Huge high windows and skylights provided as much natural lighting as possible during the day. There were posters and brightly accented frames around every doorway.
And that girl had the nerve to speed up once she heard the footsteps coming up behind her.
Ah, no, Miss Daughter-Of-Barrett, you weren’t getting off the hook that easily.
She made to turn down another hallway that dead-ended into a side door leading to the parking lot. I reached out and caught her arm above the elbow. “Miss Barrett—a word, please.”
She jumped, turning toward me, her mouth falling open. When she stiffened, whipping her hair around, I caught the distinct aroma of fresh strawberries. Strawberries and…vinegar? And something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. A pleasant smell. A warm feeling washed over me.
I tightened my hand slightly on her arm in astonishment. Where had that feeling come from? I blinked and forced myself to ignore it, focusing on the physical. Gray Barrett had a surprising amount of muscle mass under the sleeve of her thin sweatshirt. My thumb slid up her inside arm for a better gauge.
She blushed furiously. “Hands off,” she said firmly, yanking her arm out of my grip and stepping back, rounding on me, her tiny fists clenched alongside her thighs.
I raised a brow and held up an open palm in surrender. “Sorry to be grabby. Didn’t want you making a break for it like you seemed determined to do.”
Her pink mouth thinned, and I could hardly see her eyes from the glare of light on the lenses of her glasses. “What do you want, Commander Tyler?” Her tone was clipped, irritated.
What goddamn right did she have to be irritated? Honestly.
“I want to know what the fuck you were thinking when you engineered that little maneuver.”
She stiffened. “I didn’t engineer anything. I’m as shocked by my father’s request as you are. What could I possibly have to gain by spending my precious time managing an unwilling person—”
“—Who’s got issues. Don’t forget about my issues,” I mocked.
She cocked her head and folded her arms. “Ah, I see. I bruised your ego, and you want an apology.” She shrugged. “My dad expects total honesty, and when he asked my opinion, I had no choice but to give it to him honestly. He can tell when I’m lying.”
“And you think I’m unfit to fly.”
She frowned. “It’s got nothing to do with flying. I think you’re unfit to be the face of this program. I think your penchant lately for the dramatic will hurt us. And yes, you’ve got issues.”
I took a step forward, and she backed up against the wall across the hallway. Her eyes widened as she looked at me. She looked intimidated. No, I wouldn’t be grabby or touch her again, but I was fine with intimidating her. I braced my hand on the wall above her head and leaned in close. Mmm. More of that delicious strawberry smell. It was almost overpowering.
“And you’re perfect and willing to fix me, right? Admit it. You have some shrink wet dream in your little head about fixing me.”
She shook her head, the array of dark-blond hair settling around her shoulders fetchingly. My eyes traveled up her long neck to her mouth, her upturned nose, her dark brows hovering over her frames. She wasn’t plain. She was actually kind of cute…when she wasn’t being downright infuriating, or honest, as she was selling it.
She seemed to be finding it hard to breathe. Inhaling deeply, she coughed once, cleared her throat, looked away as her face flushed pink. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s not all about you. You can have all the issues you want. It’s not my job to fix you.”
“Whose job is it, then?” I smirked.
“Yours, Commander.” She licked her lips and raised those thick, dark brows at me, and the smug smile melted right off my face. Oh, when this girl pushed back, she knew where and how to do it, didn’t she?
I swallowed, a tiny pinprick of emotion piercing me to the core. Was it fear? Anger at her challenge? Who was this woman?
Drawing back, I looked at her…really looked at her, getting a good glimpse of deep green eyes under all that shielding.
She jerked her wrist up stiffly to glance pointedly at her watch. “I gotta get going. I’m sure we’ll see plenty more of each other soon. More than either of us cares to.”
Footsteps approached from behind us. Miss Not-So-Bland glanced at whoever was approaching, eyes widening. “Mr. Drake.” She nodded, her voice softer. I straightened and pulled away from the wa
ll, turning toward him.
“So this is where Ty disappeared to,” Adam Drake said. “I wanted to introduce you to a few people from the meeting. Mind if I steal him from you, Gray?”
Her thin mouth dissolved into a wide grin. “Be my guest. I’m sure I’ll survive it somehow.”
The acid sarcasm of her mild tone was not lost on me but was subtle enough that Drake answered with his own smile. “Thanks. C’mon, man. You don’t want to miss this.”
I threw one last glance in her direction to see that she was covering her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking gently in laughter. Laughter.
So, she thought this shit was funny? I’ll show you funny. I’ll give you plenty to laugh about. I began to fantasize about the myriad of ways in which I could make her squirm.
Following Drake back to the conference room, I pasted on a smile, shook hands with cronies, and indirectly begged for money.
It was actually only times like these that I really hated my job.
Chapter 5
Gray
Fifteen minutes after my confrontation in the hallway with Commander Egotistical, I was still waiting in the parking lot, leaning against the familiar bronze-colored, fifteen-year-old Cadillac Seville. I stuffed my phone into my pocket after sending its owner another text, only to see him coming through the glass front doors followed by three other men from the investors meeting.
They all seemed to be pelting him with questions. I shook my head and watched him. His suit was ill-fitting in some places. He’d recently lost a little weight and hadn’t wanted to order new suits. Hadn’t seen the point when the ones he had were perfectly fine and still fit him “good enough.”
And he’d never ever order a bespoke suit when something off the rack modified by a skilled tailor was good enough. Dad. One of the richest men in the country—in the world, in fact—was also thrifty as a miser. And yet he had the smartest head for money and investments of just about anyone. People hung on his every word, looking for the magical keys to the kingdom he must have been handed.
The problem was that even in his early sixties, hardly anyone I knew—or had ever heard of—worked as hard as my dad. He was the son of a salesman and a school teacher. Born in Illinois, a product of middle-class, middle America. He’d fought and clawed his way to immense success using his ingenuity and smarts.
And everyone admired him. He was known for being fair and honest—sometimes too honest. He had a strong drive to take care of his own.
No one would ever suspect it wasn’t all that easy being his daughter. His only child.
“Gray!” he said once he was within earshot. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed his admirers. “Sorry, fellas. I have a date with the most beautiful girl in the world.”
I rolled my eyes, and the men laughed. He approached.
“Took you long enough,” I said with a smile. “I’ve been texting you for half an hour.”
“Oh, honey. You know I don’t check my phone that often. Plus, I think it’s probably out of battery.” He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out an old-style flip phone. Typical Dad.
“You need to plug that in when you get in the car. What if someone’s trying to get a hold of you?”
He puckered his lip as if having tasted something bitter. “Then they can damn well wait until I get to the office like they used to twenty years ago. Back in the good old days, people didn’t all carry these nuisances around. Now, they suck up more time and steal everyone’s attention. Smartphones. Pfft!” He waved his flip phone before tucking it back into his suit pocket. “People don’t get distracted while driving with this kind of phone. It is a very smart phone.”
I tempered my grin at his theatrics. I was still irritated with him, after all.
He bent and planted a kiss on my cheek. “So am I having dinner with my best girl tonight?”
I bit my lip. “No, Dad. Apparently, I have a new job to prepare for. One you gave me. Babysitting a full-grown astronaut for the next three months.”
“Oh, that,” he laughed.
He laughed. And that confirmed my suspicions. Even though my dad was sweet and kind and loving and took care of his own, he could also be a full-on pain in the ass. “I knew it.”
He clicked his Cadillac unlocked and opened the door, putting his briefcase on the driver’s seat. “What do you know?”
“That you did this on purpose. That this is another one of your tests.” I should have known. An old dog like my dad seldom came up with new tricks when the tried and true ones worked fine.
He shrugged. “You seem to know very clearly what you want. If this is what you want, then you shouldn’t have any qualms doing the necessary work for it.”
“I’d think by now you’d realize that I am a hard worker.” Try as I might, I could hear the slight tinge of hurt in my own voice. As usual, my dad did not.
He quirked his mouth. “You know me better than that. I don’t just plunk my money anywhere. And having my daughter involved makes no difference.”
“I thought you were doing this for Tolan as much as you were doing this for me. You were his mentor, after all.” In some ways, for Dad, that relationship meant as much—or more—than blood. And Tolan idolized him in an almost ridiculous way.
I swallowed, reminding myself not to get defensive. “XVenture is already a proven profitable business—”
He held up a hand. “I don’t advise you about psychology and the science of the mind, do I? I didn’t even object when you chose the soft sciences to focus on. Please don’t you advise me on my business practices.”
I sighed. It came out more explosively than I’d intended, perhaps as a vent to my inner frustration. I probably sounded more like a rebellious teen than a woman trying to argue her very valid point.
He lifted a hand to my cheek. “You’re looking a little pale today, Gracie. Have you been taking your medication every day like you’re supposed to?”
I bristled, stiffening, both at the childhood nickname and at the ill-timed reminder that, in spite of craving independence, I was reliant on medication for the rest of my life.
“Don’t try to change the subject. I’m twenty-five years old and can take care of myself.” I gently turned my face away from his touch, and he let his hand fall, still watching me closely. “I’m frustrated, Dad. You don’t trust my judgment. And for some reason, you find it necessary to throw obstacles in my way.”
“It’s business. Family or no. And I do trust you. I trust that you will make this happen. In fact, I trust you so much that I’m willing to double down on my initial investment if you manage to make Commander Tyler presentable by the time the test flight happens. If everything’s good, then your flight is a go and my investment doubles.”
My jaw dropped, and I watched him suspiciously. My stance swayed from one foot to the other, hands shoved into my jeans pockets. There had to be some kind of catch. I knew him too well. He was sweetening the deal before throwing in the clincher.
There was a “but…” in here somewhere.
“And if I can’t make things work?”
His eyes drifted off to the side as if he were considering the answer to that question. An answer I already knew damn well he had in mind before he’d even made the offer. Double or nothing. It was one of his trademark moves.
“Well, I reckon if you can’t make it work, then there won’t be much for you here at XVenture. No manned astronaut program, no need for flight psychologists—or a behavioral health program. And there’s still that job at that human resources management corporation my holding company just acquired. I sure could use you there.”
I blinked, my features frozen. Learning to hide my emotions from my parents—particularly anxiety, fear, pain—had come at an early age. But even I wasn’t perfect at it. My dad had originally made me this offer when I’d finished my doctorate program months ago.
Dad took care of his own, and he wanted more than anything to continue taking care of me. It didn’t matter that he’d
be crushing my own dreams in the process. He didn’t see it that way because his need to have his loved ones safe and secure was stronger than that.
And that generosity came at a price. It always did.
I didn’t even twitch a nostril.
“You’re setting me up to get your way,” I said.
“I’m not setting you up to fail, but to succeed.” I stared him down for another minute before he cracked a smile and shook his head gently. “I’m surprised you have so little faith in your ability to heal. You’re a natural born healer, Gracie.”
I locked my arms over my chest. “I can’t cure someone who doesn’t want to be cured. I won’t even try.”
He shrugged. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, but I have every scrap of faith that you can do this. You will do this. You can do whatever you set your mind to. I’ve seen you do it. You spent half your adolescence in a hospital bed. But look at you now. All healthy and grown-up and beautiful.”
My mouth creased sardonically. “Nice sweet talk. Apparently, I’m pale and looking like I haven’t been taking my medication.”
He laughed. “Of course, I’m gonna worry about you. I always will. Now, come have dinner with me, and you can figure out what to do with that belligerent jackass hotshot later.”
With another deep sigh, I relaxed my shoulders and followed his gesture, going to the passenger side of his car. “Gee, when you put it like that, why am I not jumping up and down and going Yippee! at the thought?”
He chuckled but, wisely, didn’t reply. Instead, he settled himself behind the wheel of the car and turned the ignition once I was belted in. Hours later, he dropped me back at my car, and I made it home early enough to start my research and notes on the new task at hand.
I adjusted the legal pad on my knee and stared at the frozen image on the screen—the Special Edition interview with Ryan Tyler shortly after the accident. I’d long since changed into my yoga pants and fuzzy socks, resting my feet on the coffee table. Pari was coming over later for weekly movie night, but I had some homework to do before she got here.
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