Brandon.”
He didn’t seem to register the name.
“I called you last week,” she said. “About my daughter.”
His smile was gone in an instant, his eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t believe this,” he said. “What the hell is your game?”
This had been a terrible idea. How else could she have expected him to react except with anger?
“I knew you didn’t believe me on the phone the other day,” she said, “but if you’ll just take a look at Emma’s picture, you’ll know I’m telling the truth.” She extracted the picture from her shirt pocket, her hand trembling, and tried to hand it to him.He wouldn’t take it. “You’ll know she’s yours if you’d just look at her for two seconds,” she pleaded.
“You’re crazy,” he said. “They should lock you up.”
“I know.” She was still holding the picture toward him. “This is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever done. But I’m sane, I swear it, and—”
“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” he said. “And frankly, I hope never to see you again.” He took the radio from his belt.
“Come in, Alex.” He spoke into the radio, then to her he said, “You thought you’d have me captive up here and I’d have to listen to you, huh? Well, sorry, but you’re wrong.”
“Yo, balloon.” Alex’s voice crackled on the radio.
“We’re coming down,” Dylan said.
“Mechanical problem?” Alex asked.
“Nothing that simple,” Dylan answered, his voice tight. “I can make Del Russo’s orchard in a few minutes.”
“We’ll be there,” Alex said.
“I’m sorry,” she said when he’d hung the radio on his belt again. “This was a mistake.”
“Don’t talk to me, all right? I’m working.”
She decided it was best to say no more as they descended. Facing the direction the balloon was drifting, she kept her eyes riveted on the trees below. They floated over them, the bottom of the basket brushing the leaves. Suddenly, the trees fell away and an orchard appeared below them, grapevines stretching into the distance in neat rows.
Two men were running toward the spot where the balloon appeared to be headed, and it was a minute before she realized they were Alex and Brian. The balloon was aimed directly at a row of grapevines, and she braced herself for the impact. But Dylan tugged on a line at the side of the basket, and the balloon instantly dropped to the ground, landing with a barelyperceptible thump, neatly, tightly, between two rows of vines. Within seconds, the balloon was transformed into a pile of colorful rags strewn over the orchard.
“Help her out,” Dylan said to the men, his voice gruff.
The man with the ponytail produced the stepladder again, and she climbed out of the basket, her legs like jelly.
“Take her back to the house for her car, Brian,” Dylan ordered without looking at any of them.
Laura caught the glance that passed between Alex and Brian as they tried to figure out what had caused their boss’s sudden sour mood.
“Yessir.” The young man with the beard turned to her. “Let’s go.”
She followed him through the orchard, the sunrise coloring the vines a creamy yellow.
“Didn’t feel too good up there?” Brian asked as they neared his van.
She nodded. It was not a lie.
He opened the van door for her, and she got in and fastened the seat belt.
“Don’t feel bad,” he said as he drove away from the orchard. “It happens sometimes. My girlfriend got really sick. I’ll never get her up again.”
“Thanks,” she said, then fell quiet again. She would let him think her silence was due to illness rather than embarrassment and regret.
He drove her back to Dylan’s log cabin, and she thanked him and got into her car. She drove down the driveway a short distance, far enough so that Brian would not see her, and stopped the car. Leaning her head against the seat back, she shut her eyes and tried to still the shivering in her legs. What an imbecile she’d been! He’d been quite a
He didn’t seem to register the name.
“I called you last week,” she said. “About my daughter.”
His smile was gone in an instant, his eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t believe this,” he said. “What the hell is your game?”
This had been a terrible idea. How else could she have expected him to react except with anger?
“I knew you didn’t believe me on the phone the other day,” she said, “but if you’ll just take a look at Emma’s picture, you’ll know I’m telling the truth.” She extracted the picture from her shirt pocket, her hand trembling, and tried to hand it to him.He wouldn’t take it. “You’ll know she’s yours if you’d just look at her for two seconds,” she pleaded.
“You’re crazy,” he said. “They should lock you up.”
“I know.” She was still holding the picture toward him. “This is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever done. But I’m sane, I swear it, and—”
“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” he said. “And frankly, I hope never to see you again.” He took the radio from his belt.
“Come in, Alex.” He spoke into the radio, then to her he said, “You thought you’d have me captive up here and I’d have to listen to you, huh? Well, sorry, but you’re wrong.”
“Yo, balloon.” Alex’s voice crackled on the radio.
“We’re coming down,” Dylan said.
“Mechanical problem?” Alex asked.
“Nothing that simple,” Dylan answered, his voice tight. “I can make Del Russo’s orchard in a few minutes.”
“We’ll be there,” Alex said.
“I’m sorry,” she said when he’d hung the radio on his belt again. “This was a mistake.”
“Don’t talk to me, all right? I’m working.”
She decided it was best to say no more as they descended. Facing the direction the balloon was drifting, she kept her eyes riveted on the trees below. They floated over them, the bottom of the basket brushing the leaves. Suddenly, the trees fell away and an orchard appeared below them, grapevines stretching into the distance in neat rows.
Two men were running toward the spot where the balloon appeared to be headed, and it was a minute before she realized they were Alex and Brian. The balloon was aimed directly at a row of grapevines, and she braced herself for the impact. But Dylan tugged on a line at the side of the basket, and the balloon instantly dropped to the ground, landing with a barelyperceptible thump, neatly, tightly, between two rows of vines. Within seconds, the balloon was transformed into a pile of colorful rags strewn over the orchard.
“Help her out,” Dylan said to the men, his voice gruff.
The man with the ponytail produced the stepladder again, and she climbed out of the basket, her legs like jelly.
“Take her back to the house for her car, Brian,” Dylan ordered without looking at any of them.
Laura caught the glance that passed between Alex and Brian as they tried to figure out what had caused their boss’s sudden sour mood.
“Yessir.” The young man with the beard turned to her. “Let’s go.”
She followed him through the orchard, the sunrise coloring the vines a creamy yellow.
“Didn’t feel too good up there?” Brian asked as they neared his van.
She nodded. It was not a lie.
He opened the van door for her, and she got in and fastened the seat belt.
“Don’t feel bad,” he said as he drove away from the orchard. “It happens sometimes. My girlfriend got really sick. I’ll never get her up again.”
“Thanks,” she said, then fell quiet again. She would let him think her silence was due to illness rather than embarrassment and regret.
He drove her back to Dylan’s log cabin, and she thanked him and got into her car. She drove down the driveway a short distance, far enough so that Brian would not see her, and stopped the car. Leaning her head against the seat back, she shut her eyes and tried to still the shivering in her legs. What an imbecile she’d been! He’d been quite a
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