Amalia smiled and said nothing. She couldn’t imagine anything compelling enough to have her get in one of those things. And they could never in a million years afford a hot air balloon, even if Jose did become smitten.
When Stefano and Helena returned, they went straight to the basket and climbed in using the step halfway up the wicker side. Testing the burners once, Stefano gave the thumbs-up to his ground crew.
A cheer was heard from the beginning of the row. Amalia turned and saw the first balloon slowly ascend. Two minutes later the next in line began to rise. In no time she saw the black-andred one belonging to Rafael rise. Moments later the official walked to their site and gave the release order. Slowly Stefano’s balloon began moving upward.
Jose came over. “I calculate the chances are even. The balloons are matched in size and weight carried. Though Rafael has one extra canister, Stefano is heavier than he is and has more stuff on the side pockets.”
“So the race will depend on the pilot’s skill,” Amalia said.
“Yeah, and if he has a competent helper—but I think Rafe got shafted with that woman.” Jose shook his head. “Why didn’t he get someone else?”
“It was part of the bet.” She did not tell her brother she’d been first choice. Or that Rafael had offered to donate the money to charity if he won. Jose would have loved to crew for one of the balloons. And loved to go up in one. Maybe she’d ask her boss if there was a place for him with the chase crew at the next outing. She wasn’t as complacent about asking for a ride for her brother. What if Jose fell out?
“I’m returning home. Can I give you two a lift?” Mrs. Vicente said.
“You’re not staying?”
“The second wave will begin soon, then the third. Once all the balloons are gone, this is just an empty field. There’ll be more fun at the end. But that won’t be for a couple of hours, so I’ll go home and await the chase team’s call.”
Amalia accepted. It was much easier getting home by car than bus. Walking back to the parking lot, she looked at the balloons, the black-and-red one standing out against the more colorful ones drifting away. She wished she could at least hear how Rafael was coping with his passenger. She grinned at the thought of what was going on. She almost felt sorry for the man.
The rest of the weekend, Amalia was kept up to speed on how the races were going by Jose’s involvement. He scoured every Web site and local newspaper for updates on the events and reported every fact at dinner each night.
Stefano was ahead the first two days in two drop events. Rafael surged ahead on the third day. Had Rafael been able to do all he wanted with his teammate? Or had Stefano suspected it wouldn’t work out and deliberately chosen her? Would Rafael do better if he had competent help?
Amalia thought that perhaps she could be doing Teresa a disservice. Maybe she’d caught on instantly and was of immense help. After all, she was dating Rafael, surely she’d want to do all she could to help him win.
Amalia didn’t expect her boss back in the office for more than a week. Once the festival ended on Tuesday, he and Rafael would begin the long jump to see who could go farther in their own private race. It was quiet at the office, and she relished the lack of distractions to get caught up on nonpriority tasks.
But on Tuesday afternoon Amalia got a call at work from Rafael Sandoval.
Without any greeting, he spoke in clipped words. “You have to fly with me starting in the morning. We leave at dawn. Pack light, and for heaven’s sake bring sensible clothes.”
“What are you talking about?” Amalia squeaked.
“The bet, what else? The festival ended at noon today. Vicente and I are almost equal in points. The rest will be decided on the long jump.”
“I’m not going. You have your teammate,” she protested.
“It’s you or Teresa, and she’s made it clear she won’t step foot inside the basket again. I’m not forfeiting this bet because of some collusion between you and Vicente. You’re the other candidate Vicente allowed me, so I say you will come. Be here no later than five-thirty. Your bag goes with the chase team and you come with me.”
“No!” Amalia exclaimed.
“I’m in no mood to argue. Be there!” He hung up before she could respond.
She quickly called her boss’s cell phone. He answered on the second ring.
“Amalia, is there an emergency? Have Benito handle anything that comes up.”
“Rafael Sandoval just called and said I have to go with him for the next stage because Teresa won’t. I can’t go, Stefano. I have Jose to think about and work to do here and—” She hated to harp on her fear of heights, because that would make her seem foolish. But it was real.
Stefano laughed. “Hot damn, I may win after all. Either you go or he has no assistant in the basket. Automatic forfeiture. Man, I can’t wait to have him give me that check at the BBA.”
“Find someone else to pair him up with.”
“Hey, I did. Teresa Valesquez. If she can’t stay the course he’s out of luck. He had two choices, and I only got one. He can’t complain.”
“Just so you know, I’m not going.”
“If you say no, so be it. It’s good news for me.” He rang off, leaving Amalia feeling odd. He didn’t care how he won, as long as he did. It seemed unfair that if Teresa refused to go, Rafael would have to forfeit the race—and the money for a charity of her choice.
Amalia felt restless all evening. Even Jose picked up on her fidgeting and challenged her to a video game. She agreed, mostly to take her mind off Rafael’s reaction tomorrow when she didn’t show up in time for the liftoff. He’d be mad. She shivered. Furious, more like it. Still, what could he do to her? She didn’t work for him. If her boss hadn’t suggested the insane idea, Rafael Sandoval would probably not even know her name or be able to recognize her on the street.
It wasn’t her fault. She had never agreed to the stupid plan her boss had devised. Rafael couldn’t expect a stranger to drop everything just to accompany him. She had her own responsibilities.
Still, it was hard to fall asleep. Finally dropping off, she felt she slept for ten minutes before there was a banging on the front door to the flat.
She sprang out of bed and raced down the hall, almost colliding with her brother when he came from his room, both scrambling to don robes.
“Is it a fire?” he asked, following her to the door.
“I don’t know. Maybe a neighbor needs help.”
Throwing open the door, Amalia stared in astonishment at Rafael Sandoval. He appeared to loom over her, dressed in the black-and-red jumpsuit, his hair tousled and his eyes flashing.
“You’re not dressed and, I expect, not packed. The shuttle buses stopped running now that the festival is over. I came to get you.”
Jose greeted Rafael as if his awakening them in the middle of the night was a normal occurrence.
“I told you I’m not going,” Amalia reiterated stubbornly.
“Going where?” her brother asked.
“Ballooning—on the long jump,” Rafael said. “And yes you are. I’m not losing this race on a technicality. Get your stuff.”
“Wow, how cool. You get to go with Rafe in the hot air balloon?” Jose said, turning a beaming face to Amalia. “You’re so lucky.”
“I’m. Not. Going,” she repeated slowly. Were they both deaf?
“Amalia, you have to. What a great chance this is. Tell me all