Page 11 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
She laughs. It’s contagious enough to have me smiling.
That is, until she grabs her roll of fifties from the bed and slaps two of them in my hand. “A little something to help you get home, be it Uber or shuttle driver bribe.”
I stare stupidly at the money. I’m trained to think on my feet in life-or-death situations, but Rose makes me feel slow, like my brain is moving through microgravity. “But you didn’t even—”
“Orgasm?” She nods, frowning. “Yeah, that sucks.” She reaches in her neckline and adjusts her breasts before sticking the rest of her money between them.
“Still, I—”
“But you got me good earlier, so no worries.” She walks to the door, turning to finger-gun me. “Later.” And then she’s gone.
Shocked, whether from being treated like a male escort or from witnessing someone actually using finger guns, I stare at the open doorway.
What the hell just happened?
Four
Stellar parallax
Vance
“Bodie, you with me?”
“Hmm?” Blinking, I break away from the view of Munich, Germany outside the large window and glance around the room. The whole of the European Space Agency EVA team is looking at me.Shit.
ESA lead Sebastian DuMont frowns. “I was wondering about the connectors.”
Connectors? I have no idea what he’s talking about. I was too busy thinking of coral chiffon and finger guns.
Clearing my throat, I try to think of how to stall for time.
Luckily, Ian shifts forward in his seat, drawing the group’s attention to him. “Personally, I think there will be plenty of slack in the cabling to route and wire-tie cleanly before mating the connectors.”
“Yes, that’s right.” I throw Ian a grateful smile. He raises one questioning brow but doesn’t say anything, which is one of the many things I like about working with Ian. He and I have worked together here and there over the years, but now that he’s been promoted to EVA director, we’ll be working a lot of the same projects.
Even so, as the group continues their discussion on the order of operations, I curse myself for being distracted. I’m on point for this spacewalk mission to build out Bartolomeo, the International Space Station’s first outside payload hosting platform.
As a mechanical engineer and scientist, I’m excited that the spacewalk on the outer payload hosting platform is right in my wheelhouse. I’ve been waiting for such a moment to highlight my special skill sets.
It never once bothered me being second to Julie Starr or whoever the point man was on the spacewalks. I mean, I was going out intospace, what did I care whether I was calling the shots or following them? But ever since they named me lead on Bartolomeo, I’ve been looking forward to being more than a helping hand or a ‘gloried flashlight,’ as Jules likes to joke.
And now I’m letting myself get distracted by a one-night stand.
True, it was anepicone-night stand. But still.
“ESA is on board with all the safety checks,” Sinan, my European counterpart, declares, helping the meeting come to a close.
At the start of this trip to Germany, I spent my off-time going to beer gardens with Sinan. And although Sinan is one hell of a wingman, the image of the busty blonde leaning back against the barn wall with her hand under her gown just won’t quit. Not even the local Fräuleins could scrub the image from my memory.
Astronauts are explorers at heart. So it makes sense that I love to figure out the who, what, when, where, and why of things. Maybe if I just find out more about Rose, I can satisfy my curiosity and stop replaying our time together.
The last slide of the presentation goes up on the screen, and I glance at it, making sure I know what’s going on. When I’m sure I won’t be caught off guard again, I pick up my pen and start working on the Rose problem.
All I have is a first name, she’s friends with Jackie, and she was a bridesmaid.
I writeRose,bridesmaid,Jackie’s friendandWest family gueston my notepad. I try and think of something else, but I don’t thinkroll of fifties in her cleavageorlikes to go commandois going to help me out here. I drop my pen and pinch the bridge of my nose.
It was only supposed to be one night. As such, I made it a point that night not to ask more about who she was at the wedding. Keep the mystery and all that.
