Operation Babe-Magnet: Operation Babe-Magnet / Operation Beauty. Kristin GabrielЧитать онлайн книгу.
a job. He wasn’t even sure it was legal.
But the parachutes in Amos’s hands made the objections die on his lips.
“Here you go, boys. Put these on, then you can hit the ground running.”
Sam frowned. “What are those for?”
“To break your fall when you jump out of the plane.” Amos handed a parachute to each of them.
Sam glanced up at Dexter, then back to their grandfather, who was affectionately known as Crazy Amos around the office. And for good reason. “Did you forget to take your medication again?”
Amos waved the question away. “We’ve covered that topic already. I think jumping out of this plane is the perfect way to start the game.”
Dexter glanced out the window. “Where exactly are we?”
“Just outside of Pittsburgh,” Amos replied. “Lots of grassy pastures and flat farmland around so you shouldn’t get hurt when you land.”
“But how are we supposed to find our way back to the city?” Sam asked.
“That’s part of the game.” Amos rubbed his hands together. “This way neither one of you has an unfair advantage. You both start from the same point.”
One of the co-pilots emerged from the cockpit and helped Dexter and Sam strap on their parachutes, giving them a crash course on skydiving at the same time. As Dexter was strapped into the harness and learning new words like altimeter, free fall and static line, he wondered if this was some kind of nightmare brought on by pulling too many all-nighters at the office.
But the next thing he knew, they were standing near the open door of the airplane. The pilot announced over the intercom that they had reached an altitude of thirteen thousand feet and could jump anytime.
“You go ahead, Dexter,” Sam yelled over the roar of the plane. “You’re the oldest.”
Dexter wanted to argue, but his pride prevented him from backing out now. He took a deep breath, then moved toward the door, his fingers fumbling for the rip cord of the reserve parachute. His life flashed briefly before his eyes, filled mostly with images of him hunching over textbooks in the college library on Saturday night and working long hours at a computer terminal. He hadn’t come this far, made this many sacrifices, to give up now.
“Need a push, big brother?” Sam asked with a grin.
Dexter ignored him, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. The moment that he’d been waiting for and working for his entire life.
All he had to do was take the first step.
He leaned forward, his right hand tightly gripping the top of the door frame. For one brief moment, he panicked, realizing he couldn’t recall any memories other than school or work. No special moments. No special woman. But what did it matter now?
Then he jumped.
1
KYLIE TIMBERLAKE HIT the ground hard as an arrow flew over her head and imbedded itself in the towering fir tree behind her. She inhaled the pungent scent of pine needles and heard the menacing growl of the Doberman pinscher chained up on the front porch of the secluded cabin.
“That was just a warning shot,” called a gravelly voice from the open window. “You’re trespassing on private property. Next time I won’t miss.”
She lifted her head far enough to make certain the dog was still tethered. “It’s me, Mr. Hanover. Kylie Timberlake.”
As she lay on the damp ground, she wondered if her family was right. Maybe she was too impulsive. Maybe she wouldn’t even be in this predicament if she’d ever paused long enough to consider all the consequences of her actions.
But it was too late for regrets now. She’d based her reputation and her brother’s livelihood on a promise to make Harry Hanover a household name. She intended to do just that—with or without his cooperation.
“Warn me next time before you sneak up on me like that,” Harry shouted. “I told you I don’t like visitors. So you can go on back to Pittsburgh and leave me alone.”
Kylie gritted her teeth. She hadn’t spent the last two hours driving up narrow, winding mountain roads just to turn around and go back home again.
She took a deep breath. “You know why I’m here.”
“I already told you no on the phone. No way. No how. I’m not doing it.”
“But…”
“Goodbye, Mizz Timberlake.”
Kylie sighed as she stood up, brushing the damp soil and dead leaves off her camel silk suit. She’d ruined her favorite outfit, her flourishing career as a publicist, and her brother’s business all in one fell swoop.
The Doberman growled menacingly at her movement.
“All right, already. I’m leaving.” She turned toward the white Honda Accord she’d left parked on the side of the road. She’d almost reached the driver’s door when she heard Hanover call out to her.
“Wait just a minute, Mizz Timberlake.”
She turned around, his words igniting one last spark of hope inside of her. Then her breath caught in her throat as the Doberman, free of its chain, bounded off the porch and barreled straight toward her.
She backed up against the car as the dog leapt up, planting its huge, muddy front paws against her chest.
To her relief and surprise, the dog didn’t go for her throat. Instead, he tried to asphyxiate her with his fetid doggy breath.
“Take the newspaper clipping,” Hanover called, still invisible behind the cabin window. “I stuck it in Eugene’s collar.”
Eugene? She glanced warily at the slobbering Doberman, then noticed the ragged clipping tucked underneath the thick leather collar.
“Don’t worry,” Hanover said. “He won’t bite.”
Now he tells her. Still leery, she carefully reached out and pulled the clipping free. “Nice doggy.”
Eugene lapped her chin and lower lip with his wet tongue.
“Thanks a lot,” she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Harry whistled, causing the dog to drop down on all fours and run back to the cabin.
Kylie unfolded the clipping, surprised to see it was some kind of advertisement. Frowning, she turned it over in her hand, then looked toward the cabin. “What is this?”
Hanover emitted a low chuckle from his hiding place. “The answer to all our problems.”
THUNDER RUMBLED IN the sky as Dexter stood in front of his potential new place of employment. The storm had followed him from the country into Pittsburgh, soaking him to the skin. If he was the least bit superstitious, he’d take it as a sign that this fiasco could only lead to disaster. But he didn’t believe in omens. Or in fate. A lucky charm or a palm reading couldn’t replace the value of simple, honest, hard work.
He and Sam had parted ways before they even hit the ground, Dexter landing in a cornfield a couple of miles away from his brother. But he had no doubt Sam had found a ride into Pittsburgh—his brother’s lucky streak was legendary.
Dexter, on the other hand, always seemed to do things the hard way. He’d jogged half the distance to Pittsburgh in the rain before a sympathetic trucker had picked him up and hauled him the rest of the way. After a quick stop by his apartment to change into dry clothes, he’d hurried down to the business address listed on his game card.
Dexter winced up at the bright blue neon sign above the front entrance. This was the company his grandfather had specifically chosen for Dexter to prove himself as the right man to steer the Kane