Space in His Heart (13 page)

She clicked out of email and switched the
phone to her other ear. “I’ll be up at Christmas to meet with the
client, so do me a favor and send it. I’ll want plenty of time to
review the program in advance.”
Don’t cut me out,
sister.

“You won’t need to see the client, Jess,”
Carla said, far too smoothly. “By then your new position will be
announced and Dash won’t be on your account list anymore.”

A slow burn warmed Jessica’s stomach. “What
new position?”

Carla was silent. Ominously so. “Uh, didn’t
Tony tell you yet?”

The hair on the back of Jessica’s neck
tickled with a gust of the political winds Jo had warned her about.
“Tell me what?”

“Well, when you get back—unless you’ve fallen
in love with Florida and decide to stay—”

“No. I’ll be back at the scheduled time,
after the shuttle goes up on February thirteenth.”

“You’ve been named the head of the new
Emerging Technologies division.”

Jessica squeezed her eyes shut and tried to
make sense of the words.

“Congratulations,” Carla added.

“What in God’s name is Emerging
Technologies?”

“The gold mine of accounts I used to run in
Silicon Valley when I had my own agency. About five of them have
committed to R&C as the foundation of our new high-tech
division. Bill Dugan says you’ve become a technical whiz, so it’s a
perfect place for your skills.”

Anger and denial flooded through her. She was
getting Carla’s cast-offs. A bunch of bankrupt dot-coms and
start-ups with no budgets. She modulated her voice with practiced
precision.
Pick your battles.
“I don’t think I’ll be taking
that assignment, Carla.”

Carla tsked into the phone. “No? I’m
surprised. But, if you’d like me to talk to Tony for you, I will.
Since you’re so far away.”

“Thanks, but I’ll handle my own negotiating.”
She had to get to Tony and make him understand. She had worked too
hard to get strangled by the strings this conniving bitch had been
pulling behind her back. “I have to go, Carla. I’m in the weeds
with work today.”

“Oh, sure, Jess,” Carla cooed. “I’ll be
watching your astronaut on TV tonight. I saw the piece in
People
. Yum-
my
.” She lowered her voice and laughed.
“I hope you’re getting a piece of that, honey.”

The rush of blood walloped Jessica’s head.
“Oh, Carla. You do have an active imagination.”

“Come on, girlfriend. Give me the
details.”

Girlfriend
? Revulsion rolled through
her. “Sorry, no details. Gotta go.”

She hung up just as Stuart came in her
office, before she had a chance to compose herself.

“Hey—you don’t look so good.”

She swallowed hard and did her best to wipe
the emotion from her face. “I’m fine.”

“This message came in for you while you were
on the phone.” He handed her a pink slip.
Liza Watson. Producer,
the
Today
show. Calling about DS appearance. Call back
ASAP.

Jessica let out a little gasp. The
Today
show. In
New York
– it was her ticket to Tony.
“Stu-
ey
. You are my guardian angel.”

He grinned. “I knew you’d be happy about that
one, although Stockard’ll balk at the travel. The T-38’s are all
booked for a couple of weeks. Can they do a satellite feed?”

“No, it’s never as good. Our Commander can
fly commercial for once. He’s not going to miss this interview. No
way.” She treated Stuart to her brightest smile. “I’ll take him
there myself.”

* * *

Within a few hours, she had finalized Deke’s
appearance on the
Today
show for the following Monday
morning. It had been so easy. The producer handed her off to an
assistant, probably because the regular anchors had already started
long holiday vacations. It wasn’t that big of an interview,
especially since he’d go on air with a young stand-in anchor,
Caroline Hunter. Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. Pure fluff and
tons of it. Just what she wanted.

She arranged for them both to fly out Sunday
night, giving Deke more time at the Cape. He could come home any
time Monday after the interview and she would be on Tony Palermo’s
calendar for a lunch meeting. Tony needed to see her to remember
how much he liked her. No matter how well things were going, this
disappearance was professional suicide.

Despite the threatening news from Carla,
Jessica hummed an upbeat tune as she drove home, fixed some dinner,
and waited for the call from Lydia Davis, the account contact in
L.A. who’d escorted Deke to Burbank. She calculated the time
difference and knew that the taping would start around eight East
Coast time. She wondered what he’d say if she called to wish him
luck. Something sarcastic, probably.

Lydia’s call came at precisely ten p.m. “I
think you’ll be happy, Jess. He was damn good.”

“Really? Well,
he’s—”

“He’s gorgeous, funny, smart, and sexy.
You’ve got yourself a winner, girl,” Lydia cooed.

“He’s not mine. He’s NASA’s. And now,
America’s.”

“Really? The way he talks about you, I
figured, well… anyway, you watch the show. You’ll be happy. I’ve
gotta go.”

A thrill slid through her. She couldn’t
believe he’d say anything that wasn’t derogatory about PR in
general and her plans in particular. She mentally replayed Lydia’s
words right up to eleven thirty-five, when she turned up the volume
on the TV facing her bed. She crossed her fingers in front of her
chest and whispered, “Come on, Stockard. Amaze me.”

Leno seemed particularly sharp during his
monologue. Then, he promoed Deke with a teaser, calling him ‘the
coolest thing in a space suit since Clint Eastwood.’ Jeez. Deke
would hate that.

He was Jay’s second guest after a young actor
with three names who’d starred in a movie called
The Sixth
Sense
. As Deke sauntered onto the set in a Hollywood black
blazer and black collarless shirt, a band of anticipation squeezed
her. Here you go, Commander.
You gotta play ball in the big
leagues.

Lydia had understated. Cool, funny, a little
self-deprecating and completely in command of the interview, Deke
adroitly handled Jay’s needling. He was divine. Pride and
attraction and anxiety volleyed through her until the end of the
seven-and-a-half-minute interview.

Then Jay brought out a breathtaking model
from Sweden who was just announced as the cover girl for the
Sports Illustrated
Swimsuit edition. As much as she wanted
to switch off the TV, Jessica remained mesmerized, watching the
lithe beauty flirt outrageously with Deke.

“Ven you get lonely in outer space, you read
the issue, yes?” Her hand rested on his arm and she leaned her lush
body closer to him.

“Only the articles, ma’am,” he quipped.
Jessica imagined the feel of his muscular arm in the model’s hands
and hated the sensation it caused in her stomach.

But this is what she wanted to have happen.
It’s perfect. Let it go in the
National Enquirer
that these
two started up a steamy affair after the taping of the show—

The jangling phone interrupted her thought.
Of course, Bill Dugan or Jo would call to congratulate her. She
grabbed the phone on the second ring.

“So, how’d I do?” Deke’s voice was low and
sexy and Jessica thought she just might drown in the sound of
it.

Leaning back into her stack of pillows, pure
joy washed over her. “Nice wardrobe choice.”

“You expected my Navy uniform?”

She laughed. “I knew better than to counsel
you on what to wear. You’d just do the opposite anyway. You were
great.”

“Leno is funny as hell.” He sounded
relaxed.

“You knew you’d get the inevitable bathroom
in space question.”

“You called that one the day you were playing
the pretend
Today
show,” he said.

It reminded her that she had to ruin the
moment by telling him he had to travel again. “Speaking of the
Today
show, you’re booked for next Monday.”

“What? It better be a satellite feed.”

“Listen to the media mogul,” she teased. “No,
you’ve got to do it in person, Deke. Please. This will be the last
one for a while. It’s a stand-in anchor. Piece of cake.
Please.”

He sighed. “At least it’s home. I could see
my parents.”

His comment erased some of the guilt she had
about pushing for the in-person interview for her own selfish
reasons but left her a little curious about the family he had
there. She started to ask, but something stopped her. She didn’t
need to know about his perfect family.

“Good. We leave Sunday night.”

“
We
?”

She tried to sound noncommittal. “I have some
other meetings there, so I thought I’d go to the set with you for
moral support.”

“I don’t need it, sweetheart. But you’re
always welcome.”

The tone in his voice and the endearment,
however sarcastic, tantalized her. Oh, how she wanted to continue
that train of thought. Not a good idea.

“Well, thanks for calling,” she said, hoping
it didn’t sound as lame to him as it did to her.

“No problem. I figured you were still up
critiquing the performance.”

“I’m surprised you had time, Deke. I figured
you’d be having a late dinner with Helga the swimsuit model.”

“That’s my next call.”

She could only laugh a little in response.
“Good night, Deke.”

Chapter Ten

Throngs of
disheveled families, tense from travel with high-strung youngsters,
packed every corner of Orlando International Airport. Jessica
dodged a ten-year-old with his face stuck in a handheld video game
as she rushed to make the pre-arranged seven o’clock meeting.

As she
approached, she saw Deke at the gate, dressed casually in work
boots, jeans, and a blue oxford shirt. His attention seemed riveted
on the aircraft on the other side of the glass, but he turned just
in time to catch her staring at him. Her mind raced to think of a
neutral greeting that would hide the impact he always managed to
have on her.

“You look
confused.” He stood and stepped toward her.

Confused. That
was one way of describing it. “I’m just trying to figure out if
you’re going to bite my head off or be a polite military man and
take this bag.”

“
I
am
polite.” He reached for the
suitcase handle and rolled it to where he sat. “I made friends at
the desk so you can sit next to me on the plane.”

Every muscle
tightened at the thought of being thigh-to-thigh with him for three
hours. “I thought we had pre-assigned seats.”

“We did, but
somehow we weren’t together.” He smiled and moved his jacket so she
could sit down. “But I rectified that. You’ll see when you check
in.”

She tried to
shrug casually. “I figured you’d want to sleep or read or
second-guess the pilot.”

His slow smile
was like a wake-up call to every female cell in her body, not that
any of them were sleeping with him around. “You just hate it when I
mess with your careful planning, don’t you, Jessie?”

The nickname
rolled off his lips. A name she’d rarely been called, a name that
he made sound… sexy.

Determined not to let him know his effect on her, she
reached for her handbag and checked out the line to the desk. Not
too long. “At least the flight isn’t full.
Still, I have to
check in.
”

“
So you
can escape to an empty seat?” He leaned closer and she caught his
scent. Clean and
masculine and... heady
. “Don’t you want to try a one of your simulated
interviews to get me ready for the big day tomorrow?”

“No need,
Stockard. You’re a pro. I’ll just fire up my laptop and work. I
won’t bother you a bit.” She walked away and took a place at the
back of the line. After a moment, she looked back at him. He
grinned lazily. She flashed a controlled smile in return.

Oh boy. It was
going to be a long flight.

After the
boarding call, they followed the routine of finding their row,
storing luggage and getting settled in Twelve C and E. Seat D
appeared to be blessedly empty.

He stowed her
bag and coat and offered her a choice of the aisle or window before
they sat down.

“You’d probably
be more comfortable in the aisle, so I’ll take the inside.” She
slipped into the window seat and he settled into the aisle
seat.

“
To be
honest, I’d only be comfortable up there
.
”
H
e
pointed to the front of the plane. “This is not a natural place for
me in any aircraft.”

“Don’t tell me
you’re scared of flying?”

His laughter
rang through the quiet cabin. “No, Jessica. I just like to be in
control.”

“Mmm. I know
the feeling.”

“
I’m sure
you do.” He pushed his seat back and tried to stretch in the
cramped space. “Are
you
afraid of
flying?”

“I don’t like
it. I know the statistics are in my favor.” She looked out the
blackened window. “But they do go down.”

“Don’t worry.
There’s no weather tonight and that’s the real problem in most
cases. That and pilot error. This is a 727. It’s solid and has a
phenomenal safety record. It’s pretty simple to fly.”

“Can you fly
this, too?”

He raised a
brow. “I can fly anything with wings.”

She turned to
the window and studied his reflection in the glass, speckled with
beads of condensation. As they taxied down the runway, the hushed,
darkened plane and their proximity to one another invited intimacy.
She decided to ask him something that she’d wondered about since
the day she’d media trained him and he spoke fervently about ‘not
coming home from work.’