Page 68 of Space Oddities
“Plus...” Mike pauses dramatically, waggling his eyebrows. “Oktoberfest!” A round of cheers follows this reminder, making even the normally grumpy-looking Sean smile. Mike comments that his wife has already booked her ticket to accompany him.
That pulls me up short.
Why hadn’t I thought of this before? Trish wouldloveOktoberfest.
She is a self-described people-watcher. And what better place for people-watching than the middle of a city-wide outdoor beer festival in Europe?
I run through my travel list procedures in my mind. I already upgraded my government-issued coach class airfare to first class. And even bought the seat next to me to give me that little bit of extra room that might make the difference between a smooth flight and a claustrophobic panic attack. All I need to do is make a call to put the extra ticket in Trish’s name.
One of the DLR guys laughs. “Please tell me you upgraded your hotel. No wife wants to stay in Europe on government-issued accommodations.”
“I know, I know.” Mike laughs with him, rolling his eyes. “She already decided where we’ll be staying.” He shakes his head. “I don’t get it. I had a free, paid-for room. We won’t even be there half the time, so why the need to upgrade?”
“Quit your complaining.” Sean’s grumpy voice butts in. “Think of it this way—is your wife more or less likely to have sex with you in a shitty hotel bed or a hotel of her choice?”
Mike nods slowly, eyes wide, as if Sean had just imparted the meaning of life. “So true.”
Hotel. Yes. I definitely need to upgrade the hotel. I picked the one all the government employees were staying in, because it was approved by Uncle Sam and its proximity to DLR, but as Mike’s wife probably already saw, it seems very utilitarian. Maybe Trish would like to stay at the Savoy. Or maybe a bed-and-breakfast.
Yeah. I nod to myself. A bed-and-breakfast seems more like Trish. She’d want to have an authentic experience. I pull up my calendar on my phone, wondering if any are left since Oktoberfest already started. I should—
“Earth to Ian.”
“Huh, what?” I drop the phone on the table.
“You working out the distance to the nearest German whorehouse, or what?” Sean snorts.
“Sean.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t say stuff like that. HR is going to persecute you if anyone files a complaint.” I think back on him in Mission Control telling Julie Starr over the public loop to pack her purse before a spacewalk. “Jesus, I can’t believe they haven’t already.”
Sean leans back, his leather chair creaking again. “There comes a point in your career, and in life for that matter, where you get grandfathered in. I’m lucky enough to be at the intersection of both of those points.” He takes a sip of his ever-present mug of coffee. “So stop getting your panties in a bunch, Kincaid.”
You really can’t help but love the guy, as inappropriate as he is. “All right then, Pops.” I smile when Sean frowns at his new nickname. “Now that we have the trip details sorted, I need to head out.”
Sean snorts. “Get out of here, you damn whippersnapper.”
I laugh, collecting my laptop bag. I have a therapy appointment to get to, but first I’m going to stop at home and surprise my girl. And if I’m lucky, I’ll get to see another one of her bikinis.
* * *
Trish
“Trish! I’m home.”
The sound of keys jingling as they hit the bowl by the door follows, and I suppress the smile that instinctively wants to spread across my face. Taking the tenth deep breath since I heard the garage door open a minute ago, I carefully arrange a polite smile on my face in time for Ian’s entrance into the living room where I’ve set up camp.
I ended up binge-watching more Korean dramas instead of the female power fest I’d originally planned. No telling what emotional turmoil this will bleed into my writing tomorrow.
Ian drops his computer bag next to mine on the bench by the French doors. The sight of both of our things next to each other, like they fit together, belong together, makes me swallow.
Ian’s quick steps falter when he sees I’ve dismantled the pillow and blanket fort we’d built, but he forges on with a smile. “I have great news.”
I can’t help but return the smile, watching him fairly bouncing in his shiny oxfords, which are probably ridiculously expensive. “I’ve never seen you so excited.”
He laughs, running his hand through his hair, tousling the blond locks. “I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this excited.” His grin deepens all the crinkles at his eyes, making him that much more handsome. Sometimes I wonder if he’s real or if someone polled a group of women, chose their favorite features, and created him to be the undoing of all rationally-minded women. Women like me.
I take yet another deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. “I take it the simulation went well today?”
His smile falters at my practiced bored tone, and pinpricks of guilt stab me. But Ian rallies as before, smiling even brighter. “Yes, but that isn’t what has me excited.” He pauses. “Well, not entirely.”
