Borrowing Amor Boxed Set

Chapter 5

5

Charles strode through what he had been told was downtown in the small town of Amor, though there weren’t any buildings that were more than a couple of stories tall. It was refreshing. They looked older, but were built in an old adobe fashion, and Charles found himself drawn into each one, wanting to explore what it held. He had arrived just that morning, but he already knew that he was going to enjoy his week here.

Too bad that woman—Bev, wasn’t it?—had just been on her way out. And she would be on the flight with Galactic Enterprises, judging by the symbol on the bus she had boarded. He had watched her from the elevator until the bus had departed, wishing he could be on it with her. The way she had stumbled through her apology was endearing, and it didn’t hurt that she was beautiful as well. The only drawback was that to afford a seat on the inaugural flight, she must be one of the insanely rich people that he longed to distance himself from. There was a particular mindset that accompanied that type—the type that he lived and worked among. And he had no desire to date someone who socialized in those crowds. The number she had written down burned a hole in his pocket, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away.

Charles had just stumbled upon a park that was nestled back behind a bike shop when his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Michael, this is Julie from Galactic Enterprises. One of our passengers had to postpone her flight and we now have an empty seat for you. Can you be ready in thirty minutes?”

Charles paused mid-step. He’d thought that when they asked him to be available in case a seat opened up, it was just a formality. There was no way anyone would give up their seat on this flight. This was the one that would make headlines across the globe.

“Mr. Michael?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Charles said. “I’m not at the hotel at the moment, but I’ll walk back now.”

“Thank you, Mr. Michael. A van with our logo will pull up in front of the hotel. I hope you don’t mind that there will be two other passengers with you. A reporter and his cameraman have been given access to preparations for the flight, though they will not be going on it themselves.”

“That’s fine,” Charles said.

“See you soon,” Julie said. She paused and then added, as though it were an afterthought, “You are a very lucky man, Charles Michael. This week, we are making history.” She disconnected the call before Charles had the chance to respond.

Making history, huh? He turned and speed-walked back to the hotel. So much for relaxing and taking in the small-town life. He made a mental note to come back sometime, strictly for pleasure.

As he walked, Charles realized something that made him stumble. He was going to Galactic Enterprises. On the inaugural flight. With Bev. The woman whose phone number was still in his pocket. Excitement exploded within his chest. This was quickly followed by panic. He had already decided that Bev wasn’t a good fit for him. And now he was going to have to spend three days with her. Worse was how attracted he was to her. He groaned and sped up his pace.

By the times Charles had gathered his things and was waiting in the hotel lobby, only twenty minutes had passed. Everything was so much smaller in Amor that it didn’t take as long to get from one place to another as he had expected. As soon as he sat down on a bench to wait, two men stepped off the elevator and scanned the lobby. One was dressed in a suit, and the other held a large video camera. They must be the reporter and cameraman that Julie had mentioned. The reporter looked familiar, like maybe he worked for the news station that played in the background at the doctor’s office.

The reporter spotted Charles and walked straight up to him with long strides. “You the last-minute arrival for Galactic Enterprises?” he asked.

Charles chuckled. The guy must be eager for a good story because he didn’t waste a minute. “That would be me,” Charles said.

“Do you mind if we do a quick interview with you?” the reporter asked.

So much for a quiet week to himself. Charles didn’t really feel like being splashed over television screens across America and was saved from having to answer when a small van pulled up in front of the hotel. “Our ride is here,” he said, pointing.

The reporter’s mouth pulled into a frown and he glanced back and forth between Charles and the van, as if trying to calculate if he would have time to snag a quick shot. A man jumped out of the vehicle and speed-walked through the front doors.

Guess the reporter wouldn’t get his chance after all.

“Charles Michael?” the driver asked, his gaze landing on Charles.

“Yup, that’s me,” Charles said.

The reporter’s jaw slackened. “As in the billionaire hedge fund manager?”

Charles cringed. “I prefer to go by Charles, if you don’t mind.”

The reporter nodded vigorously. “Of course. My mistake. About that interview—”

“We’re actually in a bit of a rush, seeing how things have already gotten underway at the spaceport,” the driver said. “My instructions were to get you there as soon as possible.”

Thankful for the reprieve, Charles grabbed his suitcase and followed the driver outside. He placed his luggage in the back, then chose to sit in the seat next to the driver. There was no way he wanted to be stuck in the backseat. Even if there hadn’t been a carnivorous reporter back there, Charles knew he’d be carsick by the second turn.

Thankfully the road was straight and the desert flat, so Charles didn’t have to pull out his emergency motion sickness medicine and his plastic puke bag that he always brought with him when traveling.

“What if I just did an audio interview from back here?” the reporter asked, leaning forward and shoving a small recorder toward Charles. The driver smirked, but it disappeared so quickly, Charles was sure the reporter hadn’t caught it.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Charles said. “I’m on vacation.”

“We’re stuck in this van together for a while. It will help pass the time,” the reporter pressed.

Charles turned to the driver. “Are you allowed to leave him on the side of the road if he’s harassing your customers?”

“I think that can be arranged,” the driver said, not bothering to hide his smile this time.

The reporter must have noticed the barren landscape, no buildings within sight, because he sat back in his seat and didn’t say another word for the remainder of the drive.

Charles whistled as he stepped out of the van, his gaze sweeping across the spaceport. “I expected something big, but I didn’t realize it would be so…” His voice trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Beautiful?” the driver suggested.

“Inspiring.” The building was beautiful, but it was more than that. It was constructed in such a way that Charles knew every facet of the design was intentional.

The cameraman was taking his camera out of its bag, but the driver shook his head and motioned for him to put it away.

“Sorry, but you don’t have time for that right now,” the driver said, motioning toward the entrance of the spaceport. A woman was walking toward them at a brisk pace.

“What did we come for, if your astronauts won’t let us interview them and you won’t let us even take shots of the building?” the reporter complained.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities later,” the woman said, walking up. “But right now, we have a class that Charles needs to be in, and none of you have your security clearance yet.” She ushered them in, their driver assuring them that he’d take care of their suitcases. “Mr. Michael, I’d like you to go first,” she said, leading him to a security desk just inside the front doors. “These other two will take a little longer on account that they are press and we have very strict guidelines for what they are, and are not, allowed to film while here.”

“About that,” Charles said while following the security officer’s lead and placing his fingers on an electronic scanner. “Can I request that he not be allowed to interview me while I’m here? I’d prefer to enjoy the experience without all of that getting in the way.”

Julie’s brows furrowed. “All of our astronauts will be required to provide interviews for the major press organizations after your flight; it was on one of the forms you signed. But during your training, only one major news program has been granted access so as to not distract from the experience, and we specifically told them that they are here to observe only. Has he been trying to get an interview out of you?”

Charles nodded.

“We’ll see about that.” She stalked toward the reporter and began to give him her opinion of news reporters. Her threats echoed off the walls, making it impossible not to hear, and by the time she was done with him, the reporter was practically begging to be allowed to stay.

Charles felt a little bad. He had wanted his privacy, but he hadn’t meant to get the guy in trouble.

“All done,” the security officer said, handing Charles his security badge.

“I’ll let Officer Bridge deal with these two clowns,” Julie said, stepping up next to Charles. “I need to get you into orientation.” She took off at a brisk pace and left Charles wondering if he was supposed to follow her.

“I’d get a move on, if I were you,” Officer Bridge said. “This inaugural flight group hasn’t turned out quite like she expected, and you don’t want her to turn around and realize you aren’t there.”

“Thanks,” Charles said, and jogged after Julie.

After three long hallways and two double doors, Julie stopped in front of a door that looked identical to all the rest. She turned and surprised Charles by smiling. “Welcome to your first day of astronaut training.”

“Astronaut?” Charles asked, not sure if he’d go so far as that. The trip itself was only going to be a couple of hours long, after all.

Julie paused, her hand on the door knob. “Mr. Michael, you are going to space. Do you realize how rare that is? It’s everyone’s dream, but not many have had that opportunity. We are here to change that, of course, but don’t downplay it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Charles said. If she said he was going to be an astronaut, who was he to disagree?

Julie opened the door, and Charles couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that the only thing that lay behind it was what looked like a typical university classroom. There were several people already seated with a distinguished man standing at the front, trying to get his presentation to show up on the screen.

“Have fun,” Julie said. “I’ve got to run and make sure our reporter and cameraman are behaving.”

“Thank you,” Charles said, but he didn’t know if she’d heard him because she had already taken off down the hallway. Feeling very much like the new kid in school, Charles slid into the nearest seat at the back of the room.

The man at the front had finally gotten his computer working and he glanced up. “Oh, Mr. Michael, I’m glad you were able to get here so quickly.” He motioned for Charles to come closer. “Considering there are only seven of you and you’ll be spending quite a bit of time together over the next few days, I’d rather if we all got cozy up here in the front.”

So much for not being noticed. Charles stood, walked up the side aisle, and slid into the second row next to an older woman who was knitting what could have been a scarf or a sweater. Heck, it could be a hat for all Charles knew about knitting.

The older woman caught Charles staring. “It’s for my grandson,” she whispered. “It’s almost his birthday and I want to be able to give him something that I can say I made in space.”

“Oh…so, you plan on taking it up onto the spacecraft?” Charles asked.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Charles didn’t want to burst her bubble and say that he doubted they approved of people bringing sharp objects onto the spaceship, so he kept his mouth shut. He figured that Julie would handle it in her own way.

“I am former astronaut, Doctor Fredrick Randall,” the man at the head of the classroom said. “I will be training you in preparation for space travel the next couple days.” He waited, as if he expected applause or something, but the group just sat and waited for him to continue. “Most of you have probably learned each other’s names by now, but humor me and let’s each introduce ourselves and tell the group why you are here. What made you decide to do something like go to space?”

Charles hoped he could go last. He would need a few minutes to figure out what to say.

“Mr. Michael, why don’t you go first?” Doctor Randall said.

Of course.

“I—” Charles took a deep breath and started again. “I’m Charles Michael. I live in Connecticut, but work in New York City. And I’m not sure why I’m here.”

“How’s that for honesty?” Doctor Randall said, slapping his knee and grinning. “I like that. But seriously, you spent a quarter of a million dollars to be here. What made you do that?”

The few people that sat in the front row turned to get a look at who the newcomer was. One of the faces was familiar.

Charles froze. Bev. The elevator woman.

Her eyes widened in surprise before she whipped back to face the front.

Charles didn’t know what to make of her reaction, and Doctor Randall was still staring at him, waiting for Charles to tell everyone why he’d spent a ridiculous amount of money to be there. He felt like he was in a therapy session, and he didn’t think that spilling his guts in front of these strangers was essential to the astronaut experience. And he certainly didn’t feel prepared to open up, knowing that Bev was listening. “You’ll be the first to know when I find out.” Not likely, but it seemed to make Doctor Randall happy.

“All right, there’s Charles Michael for you, our newest team member.” Doctor Randall’s gaze landed on a young guy in the front row who must have been in his mid-twenties. “How about you, Brady?”

“I’m Brady Andersen, as if you didn’t all know,” he said with a grin so wide, it had to be fake. The guy looked a little familiar, but Charles honestly had no idea who he was. “I’m here because it seemed like the perfect anniversary getaway for me and my girlfriend, Candi. Of course, we all know how that turned out.” Brady flashed a smile at Bev and another woman, who sat further down the row. She was probably the friend Bev had mentioned before hurrying off at the hotel. “Looks like I’m single now, just sayin’.”

So, that was whose place Charles had taken—Brady’s ex-girlfriend, Candi.

Bev and her friend squirmed, like the idea made them uncomfortable.

“You seem really broken up about the breakup, considering this was your anniversary trip. How long were you two together?” Bev’s friend asked. She was pretty, but probably young enough to be Charles’ daughter.

Brady’s cheeks colored. “It’s not the length that matters, but the quality of it.”

“Seems you were lacking in both,” she muttered.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Brady protested. “Candi was the love of my life.”

“Moving on,” Doctor Randall said. He pointed to Bev. “What about you?”