Low Pressure

“The other boys,” she said haltingly. “The ones she boasted having been with…”

“What about them?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Sure I knew.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I didn’t care.”

They spent the remainder of the flight in pensive silence and didn’t speak again until they exited the Austin-Bergstrom terminal for the parking garage where he had left his Corvette.

Bellamy offered to call a car service to take her home. “If you’d rather not drive me all the way to Georgetown.”

“I’ll drive you. But Gall’s airfield is between here and there. I’d like to stop on the way.”

Gall’s pickup was the only vehicle around. The wind sock hung limply on its pole in the late evening heat. Dent drove his car into the hangar, and, as he and Bellamy climbed out, Gall walked toward them, wiping his greasy hands on a faded shop rag.

“How is she?” Dent asked, referring to his airplane.

“Coming along. Want to take a look?”

Dent peeled off in that direction. Gall looked at Bellamy and angled his head toward the office. “It’s cooler in there. Air’s on. Watch the back leg of the chair when you sit.”

“Thank you.”

She went into the office and gingerly lowered herself onto the seat of the chair with the unreliable leg. As she watched Dent and Gall discussing the airplane, she took her cell phone from her shoulder bag.

It had logged three missed calls from her agent, two from the publicist. She could only imagine the tizzy the new edition of EyeSpy had caused. They were probably celebrating the boost in publicity.

She hadn’t yet read the copy Dent had given her that morning. She admitted to a morbid curiosity about what Van Durbin had written, and only if she knew the content of his column could she prepare a rebuttal against any untruths, but she couldn’t bring herself to read it now. After the visit with Steven, she felt emotionally whipped.

Disinclined to return the professional calls, she punched in Olivia’s number. An automated voice mail answered. She left a message. It still seemed underhanded that she’d gone to see Steven without his mother’s knowledge. Olivia made no secret of missing him terribly and often lamented that she didn’t see enough of him.

Bellamy wondered—well, she wondered many things. But there were questions she couldn’t put to Olivia without breaching Steven’s confidence. As curious as she was to know what Olivia knew about his private life, she would abide by the pact they’d made as preteens to keep each other’s secrets.

Gall and Dent were now looking at another airplane that was parked inside the hangar. Gall motioned Dent toward it. He seemed to hesitate, then walked over to it.

Gall stood with him for several seconds, then turned and, leaving Dent, came into the office. He was chuckling to himself as he moved behind the desk and sat down. “Knew he couldn’t resist.”

“Is that a new airplane?” Bellamy asked.

“Less than fifty hours on it.”

“Who does it belong to?”

He told her, and she recognized the name. “He’s a state senator, isn’t he?”

“Yep. Plus he owns about a third of the land between Fredericksburg and the Rio Grande. Beef cattle.”

“Oil and gas, too, if I’m not mistaken.”

Gall nodded. “He’s offered Dent a job as his private pilot, but he’s too stubborn and too proud to take it.”

She looked out into the hangar, where Dent was running his hand along the wing of the airplane, following its curvature. Rather like he had run his hand over the shape of her hip last night, outside and inside her pajamas. His hand had been as unshy as his kiss, both taking what they wanted.

The recollection made her face feel hot. Caught in a fog of erotic memory, she missed Gall’s question the first time and had to

ask him to repeat it.

“I asked what you thought of him.”