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Her Amazing Boss!: The Daredevil Tycoon. Nikki LoganЧитать онлайн книгу.

Her Amazing Boss!: The Daredevil Tycoon - Nikki  Logan


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he took a second look. Amalia laughed at his stunned expression. He swung around and narrowed his gaze on her. She shrugged her shoulders and looked back at his girlfriend. A second later he stormed over to Teresa, his hands on his hips.

      “What the hell are you made up as?” he asked.

      Teresa was made of sterner stuff than Amalia expected. She merely smiled and trailed one finger down his cheek.

      “I’m ready for our ride. Your assistant told me to dress warmly and in layers. This top comes off.”

      The men in the crew stopped their work and stared. Amalia noticed several men from other balloons were watching, as well. Teresa didn’t seem to care.

      “It should, it’s hardly there to begin with. What were you thinking? It’s cold at the higher elevations. We’ll be going up a couple of thousand feet or more!” Rafael snarled.

      “You can keep me warm.”

      He turned away in disgust. “I don’t have time for this. Julio, give me your jacket.”

      The slender young man on the chase crew shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it to Rafael. He in turn threw it to Teresa, who barely caught it in her surprise.

      “Put that on and find some suitable shoes. We will be lifting off in less than twenty minutes. I’m not missing my time slot for you.” Rafael stormed off, leaving Teresa looking after him with a suddenly angry expression.

      Jose came over to Amalia. “Wow, do you see? I got to fire up the burners. That was awesome. I want to go up in one of them someday.” He looked at Teresa, still standing with the jacket in her hand, glaring after Rafael. “Do you believe that woman? She’s supposed to go with Rafe today, but if I were him, I’d find someone else.”

      “Rafe?” Amalia echoed in surprise.

      “He said I could call him that. It’s what the men on the crew call him. Come on, let’s go find your boss’s balloon. I want to compare the two. If Mr. Vicente can give me the specs, I might be able to calculate who really has the better chance of more distance given the wind velocity and direction. If I factor in the air volume and guesstimate the weight each would be carrying, with passengers and propane canisters and …”

      He continued talking but Amalia had lost the thread. She looked back once, wondering how the situation was going to play out. Teresa had shrugged into Julio’s jacket, but she had made no move to find other shoes.

      Stefano Vicente’s balloon was fully inflated and straining the ropes that held it to the earth. Her boss and his wife were sharing a cup of coffee. Helena must be the woman standing with them. Amalia crossed over to greet them.

      “Have you met Helena yet?” her boss asked.

      “Only on the phone. Nice to meet you in person,” Amalia said, noting the practical attire the woman wore. Her salt-and-pepper hair was tied back. Her fleece jacket covered a warm shirt. The jeans and rubber-soled shoes would be perfect for the flight.

      Amalia almost told Stefano about Teresa, but thought it would just go to his head. He must know her. Surely the Vicentes went to the same functions as Sandoval. She suspected Teresa would prove a lot more distraction than even Stefano had hoped for—not all in a positive manner.

      “Exciting, isn’t it?” Marguerite Vicente said. She also was dressed warmly. Her hair was blowing in the breeze, but she didn’t care.

      Jose greeted everyone, then went to the gondola and began talking with one of the men.

      “We lift off in ten,” Stefano said, checking his watch once more. “Last chance for a pit stop for a few hours. I’d better take advantage.”

      Helena agreed and both hurried away.

      “Do you usually go with him?” Amalia asked Mrs. Vicente.

      “Often, not always. There are always friends who like the flights. He hasn’t taken you yet. After the festival, maybe he can give you and your brother a ride. Jose looks enthralled—I hope he doesn’t get bitten by the bug.”

      Amalia smiled and said nothing. She couldn’t imagine anything compelling enough to have her get in one of those things. And they could never in a million years afford a hot air balloon, even if Jose did become smitten.

      When Stefano and Helena returned, they went straight to the basket and climbed in using the step halfway up the wicker side. Testing the burners once, Stefano gave the thumbs-up to his ground crew.

      A cheer was heard from the beginning of the row. Amalia turned and saw the first balloon slowly ascend. Two minutes later the next in line began to rise. In no time she saw the black-and-red one belonging to Rafael rise. Moments later the official walked to their site and gave the release order. Slowly Stefano’s balloon began moving upward.

      Jose came over. “I calculate the chances are even. The balloons are matched in size and weight carried. Though Rafael has one extra canister, Stefano is heavier than he is and has more stuff on the side pockets.”

      “So the race will depend on the pilot’s skill,” Amalia said.

      “Yeah, and if he has a competent helper—but I think Rafe got shafted with that woman.” Jose shook his head. “Why didn’t he get someone else?”

      “It was part of the bet.” She did not tell her brother she’d been first choice. Or that Rafael had offered to donate the money to charity if he won. Jose would have loved to crew for one of the balloons. And loved to go up in one. Maybe she’d ask her boss if there was a place for him with the chase crew at the next outing. She wasn’t as complacent about asking for a ride for her brother. What if Jose fell out?

      “I’m returning home. Can I give you two a lift?” Mrs. Vicente said.

      “You’re not staying?”

      “The second wave will begin soon, then the third. Once all the balloons are gone, this is just an empty field. There’ll be more fun at the end. But that won’t be for a couple of hours, so I’ll go home and await the chase team’s call.”

      Amalia accepted. It was much easier getting home by car than bus. Walking back to the parking lot, she looked at the balloons, the black-and-red one standing out against the more colorful ones drifting away. She wished she could at least hear how Rafael was coping with his passenger. She grinned at the thought of what was going on. She almost felt sorry for the man.

      The rest of the weekend, Amalia was kept up to speed on how the races were going by Jose’s involvement. He scoured every Web site and local newspaper for updates on the events and reported every fact at dinner each night.

      Stefano was ahead the first two days in two drop events. Rafael surged ahead on the third day. Had Rafael been able to do all he wanted with his teammate? Or had Stefano suspected it wouldn’t work out and deliberately chosen her? Would Rafael do better if he had competent help?

      Amalia thought that perhaps she could be doing Teresa a disservice. Maybe she’d caught on instantly and was of immense help. After all, she was dating Rafael, surely she’d want to do all she could to help him win.

      Amalia didn’t expect her boss back in the office for more than a week. Once the festival ended on Tuesday, he and Rafael would begin the long jump to see who could go farther in their own private race. It was quiet at the office, and she relished the lack of distractions to get caught up on nonpriority tasks.

      But on Tuesday afternoon Amalia got a call at work from Rafael Sandoval.

      Without any greeting, he spoke in clipped words. “You have to fly with me starting in the morning. We leave at dawn. Pack light, and for heaven’s sake bring sensible clothes.”

      “What are you talking about?” Amalia squeaked.

      “The bet, what else? The festival ended at noon today. Vicente and I are almost equal in points. The rest will be decided on the long jump.”

      “I’m not going. You have


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