Page 5 of Starrily
Including him. He was lyingright there. Being swallowed by the earth wouldn’t be enough; she’d have to get at least as far as Jupiter to escape the embarrassment. And even without countingthe event, Callie had felt awkward. Rattled, flustered—not because of the flight, but because ofhim. He behaved and spoke so casually, and when he talked to her, all of her responses somehow came out wrong.
Thank the Universe it was over now.
“Don’t worry,” Ava said. “Those people—they don’t know you. By tomorrow, they’ll forget all about it. Well, except for Sexy Pale Ginger Guy. I’d give him … two weeks to forget since he was the prime target.”
Callie managed a slight smile.“That’s fine. It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again.”
Chapter 2
One week later
An eagle soared far above in the pale morning sky, its cries echoing into the valley. Simon tested his grip, ensuring his right hand was firmly wedged in the crack in the rock wall, then reached back with his left to get more powder from the chalk bag. Resuming his previous position, he glanced up. The top of the cliffside was already visible. He could continue climbing along this crack for a few more feet, but he’d have to do a swing to the ledge four feet over for the optimal route to the top.
A swing … or a jump.Oh, yes.He reaffirmed his grip, then pushed off the wall with his feet, swinging his body back and forth to gain momentum, and … jump! He grabbed the ledge, dangling like a spider at the end of a web until he caught his footon a small outcrop and stabilized himself. The adrenaline from the successful jump pumped through his veins, turning into pleasant tingles of joy. A thin stream of pebbles, dislodged by his foot, silently fell, disappearing into the distant treetops.
Bon voyage, rocks. One of us should’ve brought a rope.
Simon turned his attention to the cliff top. Victory was near—and indeed, fifteen minutes and one chalk-up later, he pulled himself over the edge and sat down to catch his breath. He shook out his hair, opened his water bottle, and sipped slowly as he gazed down the magnificent mountainside. The valley he’d started in lay far below now, murky and dark green, protected from the sun rising above the pale granite mountain. Seconds later, the light painted the slopes in bright shades of orange and gold, offering a stunning contrast to the shadowed valley.
Simon’s phone rang. He fished it out of his zipped pocket and accepted the video call. “Everett! What’s up?”
“Where are you?” His financial adviser leaned forward, offering Simon a view of the shiny top of his head.
Simon flipped the camera. “How do you like it?”
“I’d like itmoreif it were the exterior of our offices.”
“Oh, come on. There isn’t a prettier sight in the morning.”
“You have a death wish, you know.”
Simon laughed. “She can certainly try.” He unzipped the slim backpack and stood, ready to get into his wingsuit. As he was preparing to put the phone down, it suddenly slipped through his fingers and landed on the ground—luckily, unharmed due to its protective casing. Everett would get a very close look at the rock, though.
“Simon? What happened?” Everett’s muffled voice came through.
Simon reached for the phone—and his hand passed right through it.What?He looked at his fingers, wiggled them. Tried again—and picked up the phone normally this time.
“Simon? Si—oh, there you are.”
What the hell was that? As if his hand was … immaterial for a moment. No, that was ridiculous. It was probably just the thinner mountain air, made him dizzy. He shook his head.Better get rid of that dizziness.“Sorry, you were saying?”
“You were supposed to be in your office right now. We have important things to discuss.”
“Oh. Really?”
Everett sighed.
Simon zipped on his wingsuit. “Relax. I’ll be there in three hours. The world’s not gonna end by then.”
“Three hours? Hiking down that mountain alone will take at least two, not to mention the drive here.”
“Try five minutes. I’m not hiking.” He positioned himself by the edge of the cliff and assessed the most optimal route for his descent. “I’m flying.”
Three hours later, Simon lounged on the dark blue sofa in his office, crossing his ankle over his knee. Everett stood at Simon’s desk, dressed in his typical charcoal suit—Simon swore he had at least ten of the exactly same make—and shuffled a stack of papers.
“I’ve accepted a grant proposal from QueLabs,” Everett began. “It’s a company for aeronautics and space research. They have an ongoing project to send a manned vehicle to the Moon. That will set the foundation for further trips to the Moon, and the eventual establishing of a colony there.”
“All right.” Simon wasn’t sure why Everett needed him in the office for this. Everett handled all the company’s finances, and this only affected the finances. So what was the catch?
