Page 3 of Fighting Gravity

He settled into his favorite Adirondack chair and dialed George on speakerphone.

“T.”

“G. The traitor.”

The old man chuckled. “Hey, all I did was follow my kids to the Sunshine State. You’re the big bad wolf who tried to keep me away from my family.”

Tate laughed. No amount of money could keep George at OrbitAll once the grandbabies started arriving. He’d left for Pale Blue Dot, a newer, less-funded human spaceflight company that held the lucky distinction of being where George wanted to be.

“How are you, kid?”

Tate took a sip of tangy, ice-cold gin before replying. “Good. Finally found your replacement. Took for-fucking-ever.”

“Who’d you get?”

“Chen Lew.”

“The astronaut from Jiuquan? Damn. What’s he like?”

“Smart. Cocky as hell, like someone else I know.”

George snickered. “Hell, he’s earned cocky. The Chinese tried to cover up that last mission failure until they realized their youngest astronaut saving their space mission was actually good optics. Good hire, T.”

“He’s a good fit,” Tate agreed. “When’s your next test campaign? Anything I need to know about the new reaction control system? We haven’t tested ours yet.”

“We’re in the middle of the campaign now. I’m getting too old for this shit, I’ll tell you that much. Everything else is state secrets that I won’t divulge, even to you.”

Tate snorted. “I’ve been waiting for you to admit for years that flying is a young man’s game.” George was nearing retirement. Tate wouldn’t be surprised if this campaign was his last.

“Shut the hell up. It’s not the flying. I can’t stand sitting in conference rooms breaking down a flight minute-by-minute before it even happens. In the Navy, we could just fucking fly. Good old days. When do you go up next?”

Tate sighed. He’d asked the FAA that question that very morning. “No idea. Chen’s been here a week and is already itching to test out Stratos. He’s not the patient type.”

“Thankfully, youarethe patient type. You need patience in this game. Speaking of impatient, how’s the kid?”

Tate heard the familiar sound of George munching the ice from his drink.

“Quinn’s the same. Always the same.”

His cousin was all work, no play. He couldn’t tell if she liked work that much or knew no other way to be. Tate, on the other hand, had no problem walking away from his many obligations. He yearned for his cabin. For the river. For the Cases, the family next door whom, excepting Quinn, he liked better than his own. Matt had been his best friend growing up, but that relationship had been easy to walk away from too when he’d denied Tate the role of CEO in his own damn company.

“I feel bad for her. I think her life would be a lot easier with a partner.”

“She has a whole team,” Tate pointed out.

George scoffed. “I meant a life partner, T. Relationships are always the furthest thing from your minds.”

Tate actually did think about relationships, but thinking was the sum total of the venture. He could never be sure if a woman wanted him for his name, his money, or himself. He’d given up sifting through silt to find gold.

Tate didn’t believe in love. Not for people like him. He knew only two genuinely happy couples, neither in his own family: the Cases, Jenny and Donovan, and George and his wife, Wendy. His parents were excellent business partners, but he’d never seen evidence of more. A happy marriage wasn’t part of the path the Geiers walked, not the culminating goal in life like it was for others. No, in his family, you took your place in line and contributed to the legacy. People partnered up, but not for love. Blessed with everything, yet totally alone. Nearly all of them. That was the Geier family curse.

Tate’s future was tied to the business, like everyone who had come before him over three generations. At least he loved OrbitAll and was uncannily skilled at his job. He hadn’t let himself want more. Why fight fate?

3

Rosie chose a teal dress with a thin black belt and swishy skirt for her interview with OrbitAll. She tugged on the hem of the snug black blazer as she studied herself in the floor-length mirror. The full skirt gave her shape where she had none and still showed some of her yoga-toned calves.

She smoothed a hand over her red-gold mane and slipped into faux snakeskin pumps. Despite the many texts from Elle gushing about OrbitAll and how easy the interview with Tate Geier would be, nerves flourished. A heavyweight like the Geier Group in her corner would add real strength to Abode’s portfolio. And a hotel meant to dazzle everyday people playing at being astronauts? Dream project. She didn’t want to take anything for granted.

---