shook his head and winked at her before walking past. She could smell the expensive aftershave lotion he used—something fresh and woodsy. Perfect for him. She felt the attraction that seemed like an invisible aura around him and for a split second she wished that wink had meant something special.
When Rafael Sandoval left her anteroom and walked toward the elevators, she turned and looked at her boss. While not as notorious as his competitor, he could still claim outrageous behavior and daring escapades that made the papers. How his wife stood it all these years was a mystery to Amalia.
She looked at her boss. “Can you win?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said easily. Walking back to his desk, he looked at her. “But I need your help. I want you to go with Sandoval.”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid of heights. Besides, what would I talk to the man about?”
He laughed. “No need to worry about that. He’ll be too busy trying to outmaneuver me. Don’t worry about receiving a pass from the man, you aren’t his type. He likes luscious, sophisticated prima donnas, not hardworking businesswomen. The intent is to make sure he isn’t getting help from a ringer.”
Amalia shook her head again. She couldn’t go off on a hot air balloon ride. Even if she didn’t have a phobia about heights, she had work to do. Her brother to take care of. She’d have to find a way to convince Stefano it would be a mistake. He was too focused on the need to one-up Rafael Sandoval to worry about a mere personal assistant’s reasons for refusing.
“I need to get the Tunisia report finished. And you need to think of another choice. I really can’t do it.” Turning, she headed for the door.
“Then call Teresa Valesquez for me, will you?” he asked. “I might get her interested. Maybe she would distract Rafael long enough for me to have an easy triumph.”
Amalia nodded and kept walking. Teresa Valesquez was Rafael’s latest girlfriend. Amalia had recently read about them attending a reception together. The accompanying picture had captured the worldly look of his latest. Her sleek, short blond hair contrasted so well with her dark eyes. The gown she’d worn was the latest fashion and had looked fabulous on her figure.
Except, would she still be around by the time the balloon race began? The one thing Amalia had noticed was how frequently Rafael changed companions. The balloon race was still a couple of weeks away—plenty of time for him to find a new woman and for Teresa to be old news.
She sat at her desk and looked up the phone number for Ms. Valesquez. When she was on the line, Amalia clicked her over to Stefano’s phone. She could finish the report if she had no more interruptions before close of business.
Just before five, she finished the last set and put them in the envelopes for different staff members. That was a major project completed. The rest of the week should be a breeze—or as much as it ever was working for Stefano Vicente. She liked her job well enough; she found it interesting and fulfilling. Which was good, since she’d likely be at it for another four or five years. Once her brother was out of college and on his own, she’d give a thought to returning to school to work for her own degree—interrupted barely months after she’d started university by the death of her parents.
Amalia’s goal remained to become a graphic designer—working with multinational corporations to develop and maintain Web pages. She loved playing around on computers. She’d streamlined many of the office functions through technology. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy her. She wanted new horizons. She dabbled in Web design for friends, but looked for more challenges and a monetary reward for her work.
When she’d expressed that interest to Stefano a couple of years ago, asking if she could switch divisions, he’d refused. He hadn’t wanted to break in another new PA. Maybe she did her job too well, but it wasn’t in her to do less than her best.
At least she had a good position that enabled them to live in a modest flat. After their parents were killed, there had been more debt than assets. Once everything had been sold, there was nothing left for extras. Amalia could still remember the panic she felt knowing that Jose depended entirely on her. She’d only been nineteen, Jose a mere eight. She’d floundered those first couple of years until she began to work for this firm.
Promotions had moved her up, and her current job now paid enough to save a bit for college for her younger brother. One more year of public school and he’d be off to university. He wanted to be a physicist. He’d probably be over the moon with a chance to ride in a hot air balloon. She dare not tell him; he’d badger her forever to take advantage of the opportunity.
She shut off her computer, tidied her desk and donned her serviceable raincoat. She was already planning the evening meal she’d prepare for herself and Jose.
Stefano stepped into her office.
“I need you to renew my order of weather schedules first thing in the morning.” He handed her a piece of paper on which he’d written down the Internet addresses. One was from a local weather forecasting service in Barcelona. The other two covered other areas, including the eastern part of Spain and parts of southern France.
She nodded. “Anything else?”
“Not right now. I’ve got to prepare for the flight, though. There’s more to it this time than casual fun. I can’t wait to see Rafael’s face in front of the BBA giving me the winning check.”
“The entire plan sounds scary,” she murmured. She had gone to the Barcelona Balloon Festival the first time it had been held after she joined the firm. She hadn’t stayed after the first wave of balloons lifted into the air. The small wicker baskets were dwarfed by the huge balloons, dangling by incredibly thin ropes that connected the basket to the balloon. Imagine rising above the earth dependent solely on hot air in a large nylon bag. She shuddered just thinking about it. The entire venture looked precarious and dangerous. She preferred to keep her feet on terra firma.
“It’s perfectly safe and a lot of fun. There’s nothing like soaring a couple of thousand feet above the earth. Watching the landscape drift by below, going where the wind takes you.”
“Unless you get tangled in power lines and get zapped, or go down in the Med and drown before rescue, or—” Or just fall from the basket and splat on the ground. She shook her head at the horrible image that popped into her mind.
“That happens, like, once in a lifetime.” Stefano laughed.
“It could be your lifetime, or the end of it!”
“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t had even so much as a near miss in all the years I’ve been doing this. Anyway, you’re off the hook. Teresa Valesquez is delighted to be going with Rafael. I think she expects a ring on her finger by the end of the trip. Doubt he’ll ask, though, because he hasn’t so far. He strikes me as the perpetual playboy bachelor who’s having far too much fun to get tied down. See you in the morning,” he added, turning and reentering his office.
She grabbed her umbrella, wondering if that or her raincoat would be much protection against the deluge that continued.
Stepping outside a few moments later, Amalia paused beneath the building’s portico debating whether or not to dash to the bus stop without her umbrella raised and hope she didn’t become soaked, or give in to the inevitable and use the umbrella until the wind turned it inside out.
A sleek black sports car drew to a stop at the curb in front of her. The passenger window slid down.
“Need a lift?”
She leaned over a bit to peer in. Rafael Sandoval looked back at her.
“Get in, I’ll drive you home,” he ordered.
Normally Amalia would object to his imperious tone, but she was pragmatic enough to appreciate a ride in the storm. She quickly got into the car as the window slid up.
“Why?” she asked as she fastened her seat belt.
“To get to know you, of course.”