Page 44 of Fighting Gravity

“Good. I have both,” Vadim answered. “I know you wanted Chen leading your program, but you want to know what else I know?”

Tate waited.

“If that asshole can get you to space, so can I.”

He laughed. “I believe you.”

True to his word, he stopped by human resources on the way to his office. Back at his computer, he sent an email to his contractor in Seattle to see how the tiny house prototype was progressing. He’d had an idea, probably a silly one, that he wanted to build one himself. He wanted to see how long it would take two people, say he and Quinn, to build a tiny home to Rosie’s general idea and his contractor’s more detailed specifications. If the prototype could be built by amateurs as a weekend project, the idea might be easier to sell. Habitat for Humanity might want to get involved. Volunteer parties could be deployed around the world to put these tiny homes together. Tiny villages could be created by hand.

All the supplies to build one would arrive at the villa in a few days, so they’d test his theory. Quinn would be thrilled.

His cousin popped in and took a seat in the chair across from him. “I got the Save the Date for the Representation in Aerospace gala,” she said without preamble.

“And?”

“Do you think they’ve planned an event like this before?”

Tate thought of Gloria, the flight instructor who still wore a bomber jacket from the 1970s and cursed like the Navy pilot she’d been. “I doubt it.”

She nodded. “I think we should bring up an extra donation to our finance committee and see about funneling some of marketing’s resources toward helping with basic planning. You have very rich people on the guest list. We need to elevate the event to a certain standard.”

“Fine with me.” He still didn’t understand how Quinn could have come to these conclusions from one piece of paper she received in the mail.

She cleared her throat. “Are we hiring Muscles?”

“We’re hiring Vadim Baranov to replace Chen, yes.”

She whipped out her iPad. “Spell his name? I’ll Google him for you.”

For me. Right.

“We need to know about everyone who works here, Tate.” She sounded defensive.

He indulged her by spelling out his name. She rose, already engrossed in the screen.

“Hey,” she said, turning at the door. “What’s this notification about an incoming delivery of lumber at the villa?”

Tate grinned. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

24

Rosie pulled away from the small dumpling house in Kearney Mesa with a heavy heart.

Elle had tasked her with picking up twelve dozen bao for Chen’s going-away party. Of course, Elle had launched into planning mode when she’d found out her world had flipped on its axis. If she was busy, she wouldn’t have to feel.

Rosie could relate. She’d kept herself immersed in Hotel Astra for the past week so she wouldn’t have to dwell on the still-unknown reason Tate had been casing her office. The design was due to the city in a week, so her excuse for overworking was at least legitimate. They were a small firm, so even as the owner she sometimes had to complete the more monotonous design tasks like checking door clearance and ceiling heights and confirming the number of electrical outlets. She’d also spent some extra time on the hotel’s lobby and common space. Multiple conversation areas with dramatic 1960s-inspired partitions, a dais for press conferences, and a cozy bar had all been included in the final design. Extra attention on the project had kept her mind off Tate’s secretive behavior.

At their last meeting, she hadn’t had the nerve to ask him about his clandestine visit. She’d instead flown through their meeting and gotten right back on the road to San Diego. Since she’d only sporadically answered his texts since then, she was sure Tate wouldn’t let the night go by without a discussion about her own evasiveness.

She tuned to a new episode of her favorite science podcast and made the long trek to Victory.

Rosie couldn’t help but smile when she walked into the hangar three hours later. She’d loved it there since her very first visit. The massive, open structure was full of light and happy people performing their dream jobs. The place had a good vibe, to channel Gigi. And now the area nearest Stratos had been transformed into a classy star-themed soirée. Elle and Chen weren’t there yet, so Rosie hurriedly arranged the bao on the food table with Luz’s help.

“I can’t believe he’s leaving,” Quinn said, joining her as she finished up. “This is all happening so fast. Is Elle okay?”

“I don’t see how she could be,” Rosie replied.

Quinn nodded, looking pained. “One of many reasons I don’t do relationships.”

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