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Launch Page 3

by Richard Perth


  “Thank you.”

  David called 17 minutes later. “Five-minute warning. When you see me at the end of the driveway, take off like a gazelle. Don’t forget your racket and your bathing suit.”

  Exactly five minutes later, his car stopped at the end of her driveway. Its passenger door popped open, and she ran. She was surprised to see a celebrated movie star when she passed the front corner of her building. He was standing in front of the next building on her left, and the reporters were crowding around him.

  The MG’s canvas top was up, and Claire had to fold herself into the small sports car.

  As David accelerated down her street and flicked around the corner into traffic, a black sports car sped down her street after them.

  Claire looked over her shoulder through the small back window in the MG’s canvas top when the car was stopped at a traffic light. Neither the black car nor reporters were in sight. “Thank you, David. That was a great rescue.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, “but ‘tain’t nuthin’ compared to what you did yesterday.”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get back to my apartment.”

  “Relax. We’ll play tennis, have lunch and a swim, and figure it out later.”

  ▼

  Not far from the UCLA campus, David turned into an exclusive residential neighborhood. Mansions with elaborate, manicured gardens sat well back from the street. Claire was enjoying the view when she noticed the black sports car reflected in the MG’s right side outside mirror. “David! The car behind us followed us down my street!”

  “That’s Michael in his Lamborghini. He distracted the reporters so you could get away. Then he used his car to block your street and give us a good head start.”

  She remembered the movie star in front of the building and connected him to the voice she had heard on David’s phone in Las Vegas. “That’s Michael Bedford?”

  “Yes. I met him when I was a technical advisor on one of his movies.”

  Claire was impressed. “You guys were great!”

  David turned into an unmarked driveway, passed through open wrought iron gates mounted in high walls, and stopped before a second set of closed gates. The black car pulled in behind them. The outer gates closed, trapping both cars, and then the inner gates opened.

  They drove along a two-lane, curving driveway flanked by white oleander interspersed with lush red bougainvillea. Honeysuckle perfumed the air. Behind the red and white blossoms, jacarandas seemed to fill the sky with purple flowers, and birds sang in the trees.

  The iridescent, crimson-red crown and throat of an Anna’s hummingbird flashed in the sunlight as it zipped over the green MG’s hood.

  At the edge of the wooded area, the driveway entered a wide expanse of immaculate lawns surrounding a large, Mediterranean-style villa.

  The Lamborghini disappeared into a garage under the house, and David parked in front. He and Claire collected their rackets and bathing suits and walked toward the tennis courts. “This is lovely,” she said.

  They met Michael Bedford and his wife near the courts. He was handsome and tall. She had long, black hair in an unkempt style that enhanced her wild, dark beauty.

  David smiled. “Joanne and Michael, this is Claire Sommer.”

  Joanne smiled and took Claire’s hand. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Claire. What you did at the Grand Canyon yesterday was extraordinary!”

  “Thank you, Ms. Bedford. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “Joanne, please.”

  Claire shook hands with Michael. “Thank you very much for your help this morning.”

  In the resonant baritone she had only heard before from movies and on David’s cellphone, Michael said, “Shucks, tain’t nuthin’, ma’am.”

  Claire laughed. “I’ve enjoyed your movies very much.”

  “Do you like Porgy and Bess?”

  “I love it! ‘Summertime’ is one of my favorites.”

  “I start a remake next month as Porgy. I hope you’ll like that, too.”

  ▼

  They played tennis in different combinations, and Claire won easily. In the game with Joanne and Claire against Michael and David, the men hit their balls to Joanne’s side of the court again and again. After a few of these not-quite volleys, Claire sat down cross-legged. Michael took the bait and hit the ball to her side of the court. She leapt up and smashed the ball back between Michael and David who ran for it, collided, and fell.

  Claire ran to the net, and her voice showed concern. “Are you hurt?”

  David shook his head with a sheepish grin. “Just my ego.”

  Michael was rubbing his head. “Is this tennis or football?”

  “I’m sorry,” Claire said. “I didn’t think you’d both go for it.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” David said, “We’re the doofuses who goofed.”

  Michael said, “I think I hear bells—lunch bells.”

  “Good idea,” Joanne said, “before somebody gets hurt.”

  ▼

  Michael and David lagged behind Joanne and Claire as they walked toward the house. “What we had back there was a failure of situational awareness,” Michael said. “Isn’t that especially dangerous for a fighter pilot?”

  “You’re right. I could say we weren’t in aerial combat, but that would just be an excuse. She served me a piece of humble pie. I should try to learn from it.”

  “She’s an athlete,” Michael said. “I can understand how she made that rescue yesterday.”

  “I think she’s a tiger, like her mother. I may hang around five hundred years or so to see what happens next.”

  Michael laughed. “You should be so lucky.”

  David grinned. “I can hope.”

  ▼

  They enjoyed salade niçoise and fresh, hot French bread on a patio bordered by a lush garden in full bloom.

  Michael asked Claire, “How long have you been a professional tennis player?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I’m not, but I was on the women’s tennis team at the Air Force Academy.”

  “Ah ha! Busted!” Michael exclaimed. “David slipped us a ringer!”

  David shook his head. “Not so. I didn’t find out she played tennis at the Academy until after I called you yesterday.”

  Michael said to Claire, “I think you’re very good. You could probably make a lot more money as a professional tennis player than you will as a doctor.”

  “I won’t make all that much as a flight surgeon, but I’m going to school on Uncle Sam’s dime, and I’m obligated.” Then she frowned.

  “What’s the matter,” Michael asked.

  “My car broke down last night, and with all those reporters outside, I don’t know how I’m going to get to school. . . . Maybe I’ll call a taxi, put a bucket over my head, and come out with my tennis racket swinging.”

  The others laughed. Then Joanne and Michael said simultaneously, “Stay here.”

  Claire’s expression was quizzical.

  Michael said, “Seriously. I’ve had a lot of experience with the media. As you could see when you came through our gates, no one gets in here uninvited. You can stay in one of our guest cottages, and our chauffeur can take you to school and pick you up. Joanne and I would love to have the pleasure of your company.”

  “You’d do that for me? We just met.”

  Joanne said, “You’re David’s friend, and we already know we like you.”

  Claire was overwhelmed. “That’s very kind of you. I don’t know what to say.”

  Joanne put a hand over one of Claire’s. “Just say yes.”

  Claire thought about the reporters clustered around her front door. “Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Michael said, “Good. And if you’re willing, we can use your publicity to raise money for the Wildlife Fund. It will help animals like the cougar cub you saved.”

  With a puzzled expression, Claire asked, “How?”

  “I can schedule a charity dinner
and reception for you and sell tickets to people in the movie industry,” Michael said. “Once something like that gets going, the snowball effect kicks in, and people have to go so they won’t feel left out.”

  “Do you really think people are that interested in me?”

  “Sure. That’s the reason the reporters were there this morning. But public interest is fleeting. If we move fast, while the event is fresh, I’ll guarantee a million dollars. It’ll probably be much more. We can sell more tickets if you do a press conference about rescuing the cub. David can be your escort, and I will pay all expenses including a new gown for you, hairdresser, accessories, and so on.

  “Accepting our offer to stay here does not obligate you to do this.”

  Claire said, “I’ll be happy to help the Wildlife Fund. But what if David doesn’t want to be my escort?”

  “Yes, he does,” Michael said with a grin.

  David nodded. “Yes, he does.”

  Claire and Joanne laughed.

  ▼

  David was already in his bathing suit, standing with his back to Claire, when she came out of the changing room. He had broad shoulders with good muscle definition, tight buns, and impossibly narrow hips. She stopped for a good look.

  He’s sexy all over.

  He began to turn, and she looked away.

  ▼

  Joanne waited until their lunch had settled and organized a game of water volleyball. Claire had fun as she and Joanne took the shallow end of the pool and made Michael and David work hard to win.

  After the game, they stretched out on chaise lounges, and Claire asked David to put sunscreen on her back. His touch was soothing. She relaxed, closed her eyes, and enjoyed it.

  While he was applying lotion into the curve of her waist, he asked, “Will you have a picnic on the beach with me next Friday evening?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m sure I will enjoy that. Thank you.”

  Chapter 5

  Claire heard a raucous noise and saw a picture of a barn owl on the control panel beside the front door of the cottage. She opened the door and smiled. “Hi, David.”

  He was smiling with a quizzical expression on his face. “Hi. What was that?

  She showed him the control panel. “Remember the all sounds doorbell from The Wizard of South North Little Rock?

  “Yes. Michael was Specter Sufero. It was hilarious.”

  David pressed the doorbell button again. They heard a baby laughing, and they laughed, too.

  The top was down on David’s MG, and the space behind the seats was full. Claire noticed a delectable smell that seemed to be coming from the car.

  “That smells great,” she said. What is it?”

  “My recipe for Teriyaki kebabs. Pieces of pork loin and ribeye steak marinated in teriyaki sauce and skewered with onion, bacon, and bell pepper. It’s one of my favorites. I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  As they drove to the beach, Claire said, “Your car has character. Have you had it long?”

  “Thank you. Since high school.”

  He noticed her surprised expression.

  “My dad was the foreman on a ranch in Texas where I grew up. My mom was the cook. The MG was on blocks in a junk-equipment shed with an old tractor. Mr. McGregor owned the ranch and said I could have the car if I could get the tractor to run. So I did and he did.”

  “You restored this yourself?”

  David shook his head. “I had it hauled to my high school, and it became an auto repair class project. I did a lot of the work, made and paid for many of the parts, but I had a lot of help, too.”

  “Mr. McGregor sounds like a good man.”

  “He was always good to me and my folks. Mr. Mac gave me my first flying lessons in his J-3 and helped me get in the Academy.”

  “J-3?”

  “A Piper Cub. It was the most famous and popular light airplane of its day, back in the 1940’s and late ‘30’s”

  “I think I’ve seen those. Yellow, with a tail wheel?”

  “They weren’t all yellow, but I haven’t seen many that weren’t.”

  “Was it fun growing up on a ranch?”

  He nodded. “Lots of room, horses to ride, lots to do. After I fixed the tractor, Mr. Mac gave me a part time job fixing things.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Playmates?”

  “Just Liz McGregor. We grew up together.”

  Claire noticed that David’s voice and expression became somber. She wondered why but thought it best not to pursue it.

  They parked beside a deserted beach under an overcast sky. After unloading his car, David put on the top and windows. Claire set up the folding chairs as he lit the charcoal fire in his portable grill.

  While the coals heated, Claire and David went for a barefoot walk in the sand by the water. “How’s the guest cottage?” he asked.

  “I love it! It’s big, but a maid comes in to clean. Joanne came to see me and make sure everything was okay. We played tennis, and I taught her a few things.”

  He grinned. “Michael will be very surprised if she starts beating him.”

  “They’re fun. They act like real people instead of mega-celebrities.”

  “After I was assigned to be Michael’s technical consultant when he was making Tuskegee Tiger, I read an article about him. It said he was vain and self-absorbed. I’m glad it was wrong.”

  Claire and David walked quietly together, enjoying the beach. The waves were small, and the few seagulls on the sand and wheeling overhead seemed to be subdued.

  He broke the brief silence. “How’s medical school?”

  “Grueling.” She shrugged. “But that’s the way the system works.”

  “Did you always want to be a doctor?”

  “No. I wanted to be a fighter pilot, like my mom. Then I watched the heroic efforts of the trauma team as they fought to save her life. I thought about that during my first year at the Academy and decided I wanted to help people, too.”

  After a pause, she asked, “Did you always want to be a fighter pilot?”

  “I was about seven the first time I saw the Thunderbirds. They stole my soul. I love the challenge, the adventure, the beauty. I feel privileged—I am privileged.”

  “Is that why you want to be an astronaut?”

  David nodded. “It’s a variation of the same thing, but I won’t have to kill people.”

  His expression was serious. She asked, “How could you be so successful in combat if it bothers you?”

  “I did my duty, what I had to do to save innocent lives. The enemy pilots I shot down were an active part of a monstrous evil, and they had to be stopped. I stopped them the only way I could. But each one was a person, a human being. At one time, he was somebody’s baby. He may have been a provider for a wife and children. . . . I’d prefer to serve in a way that does not involve killing.”

  Claire felt comfortable as they walked quietly beside the water, and she wanted to know more about him.

  “Were you born in Texas?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are your folks still there?”

  After a pause, he said, “Their ashes are. They died during my second year at the Academy.”

  With tears in her eyes, she took his hand. “Oh David, I’m so sorry.”

  He stopped and lifted her chin gently. “Please don’t cry,” he said, and kissed the tears on her cheeks. Then he kissed her lips. She felt a thrill all of the way through her body, and her arms went around his neck.

  As they walked back to the grill with their arms around each other, she noticed with surprise that she was sexually aroused. Never before had one little kiss affected her like that.

  Claire’s thoughts led her down a logical path and she asked, “Liz?”

  “Liz’s mother died in childbirth,” he said. “My mother was mother for both of us.

  “After we quit fighting, we became best friends. Then one day w
e discovered we were in love. We thought we had a big romantic secret, but everybody knew before we did.

  “She was a senior in high school when I came home for Christmas in my second year at the Academy. We announced our engagement, planning to get married in the chapel after I graduated.

  “After Christmas, Liz drove me to catch the bus back to the Academy in Mr. Mac’s four-door pickup. My folks came with us. They said goodbye, then went back to the pickup so Liz and I could say goodbye privately.”

  David paused, and then he said, “On the way back to the ranch, the pickup rolled over. Liz and my folks were killed. I think Liz took a curve too fast.”

  Claire held him tighter and put her head down so he wouldn’t see her tears. He’s an orphan, too

  ▼

  It was dusk and the coals were white hot when they got back. David turned on a stormproof lantern and put the kebabs on the grill while she watched from one of the beach chairs. Then they felt the first drops of rain.

  “Oh no,” Claire said.

  “No worries,” David said. “I check the weather before picnics.”

  He settled Claire in the passenger seat of the car and retrieved a lap table from the back. It was steadied by legs near the dash and fit her lap perfectly. He then stowed chairs and other things not needed for cooking behind the seats. Holding a plastic sheet over his head, he shielded the grill from the rain while he finished the kebabs. The shifting wind kept blowing smoke into his eyes, and she watched him do a funny dance around the grill to avoid it. Though her heart went out to him, she could not help but laugh.

  There was no room for a plate on his side of the car because of the steering wheel, so they ate from the same platter on the table in her lap. She thought the teriyaki kebabs were delicious, and being so near him while they ate was exciting, an intimate adventure. Something close friends—or lovers—would do.

  He let her have the last bites, then braved the rain again to stow the table, platter, and utensils. Twilight had become night. They sat side-by-side in the dark, and she listened to the rain: the soft sound as it hit the top and the harder sound as it hit the metal car. She felt wrapped in a cocoon, secure and comfortable with David, and it felt natural to take his hand in hers.

  Claire asked, “Do you have any other family?”

 

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