Chapter Seven

Sky climbed into the cockpit for her second free-style. She’d received top marks for her compulsory. The points earned in her first free-style had increased her lead on the field. If she did well now, the cup was hers, along with the title of top aeronautic pilot on the American circuit. She wanted the title more than the quarter-million-dollar prize.

Since she’d first climbed into the cockpit of the Tiger Moth as a young child, she’d bucked the male dominated system, fighting for every bit of air time, opportunity, and respect she’d earned. Winning over three of the top pilots on the international circuit would validate all her hard work and sacrifice. Brian had never understood. He’d wanted a beautiful woman on his arm, an opportunity to preen for the other males in his world of wealth and privilege, where topping each other’s latest acquisition mattered most. But where Brian had watched her get into the cockpit with irritation and petulance on his face, Adam’s expression registered pride and confidence in her.

“You’ve got this, Sky,” he said, stepping back from the plane and turning as a journalist held a mike out and asked a question.

Andre sauntered up. He’d already completed his last freestyle and had no more points to gain. He ran his hand over her shoulder, before letting it rest on the edge of the cockpit. “Looks like you have the advantage, cherie, bon fortune.” With a cocky half-salute, he stepped back and wandered toward the spectators. Adam finished with the reporter and turned. His eyes appeared darker than usual, as he looked up at Sky.

“Fly safely,” he mouthed. His hand stroked the wing of the plane, as if stroking her. She wondered how he felt about his design winning the prestigious competition. He hadn’t made a big deal of his contribution to her success, but always put her front and center with the press.

“Make sure you double check the clips on your canopy,” his voice whispered in her mind. Losing a canopy was one of the hazards of the sport. He’d checked all the snap locks when they’d done the walk-around earlier, found one that had bent a little which might allow the canopy to open under wind pressure, and taking pliers from her tool kit, straightened it. He’d investigated every part of the Storm he could access, and as the engineer who’d designed her, Sky trusted his ability to find a flaw. Besides, he’d had Greg and a relief guard watching Sky Dancer day and night. She felt safe as she snapped the canopy into place and spoke into her mic, receiving clearance to taxi.

She climbed high. Flying an easy sequence because she had the win wasn’t her way. She would leave no doubt she was the champion. So, she’d planned a complicated set of maneuvers, including the left pullout of the right spin she’d learned by accident at the air show. Once at altitude, she checked the switches on her smoke producing devices, which Adam had mounted on the underside of the wings on the Storm-2B model. She had red and yellow colors, which vaporized with hot oil and would produce red, yellow, and orange trails at her command. Flicking on the red smoker, she completed a vertical roll on her climbing line, followed by a stall-turn with a rotation at the top. Switching to yellow smoke, she made a half-roll on her descending line, inverted, and climbed for altitude upside down. The design of the Storm allowed her to pull the necessary Gs while in the inverted position, an advantage over many of the other planes.

At the top of her loop, she hit both smokers and dropping her nose straight down began her controlled spin, three spins counter-clockwise, the smoke producing three lines of color. She closed on the Earth at a rate of twenty-five hundred feet per minute. Just short of the minimum limit of the invisible air box, she pulled out of the spin with a kick on her left rudder, sliding sideways in a steep bank that stopped her momentum. She’d completed the maneuver precisely, and as it was totally unique, should get close to the maximum ten points for it. Elated, she soared higher, setting up for her last twisting roll.

As Sky went into the roll, tracing her progress across the sky with her brilliant colors, vapor began pouring into the cabin. She coughed, blinked her stinging eyes, gasping for breath. Sky Dancer wavered, fell out of the roll, plummeting toward earth. Sky couldn’t see, as tears streamed from her eyes, and her lungs burned.

The cockpit was filled with smoke, and she was losing consciousness, her lungs screaming for oxygen. Knowing she had only one chance, she reached for the snaps on the canopy, flicked the two front ones open. A great gray circle was closing in on her vision. She fought it with all her might, putting the plane in a dive, so the force of the air would tear the canopy off. Please work, she prayed, finding it peculiar her thoughts were on Adam and the grief he’d feel if she died flying his spectacular design.

With a grinding sound, the front of the canopy lifted an inch. She bent, trying to suck in the narrow stream of fresh air and avoid being hit. The force of air lifted it higher, snapping the other locks. The canopy sailed free.

Sky soaked the clean air into her lungs, even as she pulled up on Sky Dancer’s nose, leveling out only a few hundred feet over the runway. She knew she was out of the designated flight box, but at the moment, cared only that she was alive. Her eyes streamed, her lungs burned like she’d inhaled acid. The pain was incredible, but she brought Sky Dancer down on the runway with just the merest bobble. When she taxied off the runway, she could see Adam waiting by the hangar, every muscle of his body rigid. She knew if their positions were reversed, she would be desperate to run out and meet the plane, but safety codes did not allow it. She pulled Sky Dancer up and shut her down, realizing her smokers were still on, but long since out of color. It had taken every ounce of her consciousness just to keep from crashing. Adam stepped onto the wing, and hung over the cockpit.

“Sky, are you okay?”

Her burning throat prevented speech.

He took in her streaming eyes, smelled the residue of the fumes, and his face hardened, his eyes glinting steel-gray as his pupils constricted.

“My God, someone almost killed you.” Even though his voice was harsh, his hands were gentle as he unfastened her harness and helped her step clear. Once on the ground, he hovered near her, his hand clasping her arm, as he took some of her weight.

The EMTs ran up with a gurney. Even as she protested, Sky was lifted onto it, and an oxygen mask fixed over her nose and mouth. The sky boss was down from the tower, the head of the ground crew rushed up, and journalists and camera men crowded in.

Adam gestured Greg over. “I want that plane guarded, until the investigators have gone over every inch of it.”

Sky heard Adam’s instructions, his voice hard. His face appeared carved in granite. She was glad he was on her side.

The sky boss stepped over. “Can you tell us what happened, Sky?”

“Water,” she choked out. One of the EMTs handed her a bottle and lifted the head of the gurney, propping her up. She quaffed half the bottle, feeling the burning in her throat ease.

“Toxic fumes filled cockpit. Couldn’t see, losing consciousness, released front latches, dived.” A fit of coughing seized her, when she had it under control she drank more water.

“Didn’t have time to level out and lower my speed.” She looked at Adam, who stood beside her, his hands tucked in his pockets. His eyes said he wanted to touch her, but she’d asked him not to let on they were an item. She didn’t want a rumor she was sleeping with her sponsor ruining her win.

“Good thinking. Ripping the canopy free saved your life. I don’t imagine you’d have stayed conscious much longer,” he rasped.

“If you hadn’t straightened that latch, I probably wouldn’t have gotten the canopy open before I…before that happened,” she choked out.

The EMTs had taken her blood pressure and temperature, while she spoke. “We need to get her to the hospital, have her checked out. She may have damaged her lungs breathing in the toxin.” They directed the information at Adam. Sky heard, then worried about her lungs, but felt too awful to care. She closed her eyes and sank back.

Adam’s hand clasped her arm, warm, reassuring. “I’ll call Max, handle the press, and make sure we find out who sabotaged you, again,” he reassured her. “You focus on feeling better. Do what they tell you, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Despite the whirring video cameras and avid press, he bent close. “You did good, kid. I couldn’t have done better, and you performed like a real champion. I’m proud of you, and Hamilton is proud to have our logo on your plane.” He pressed the lightest, quickest kiss against her cheek and straightened.

Sky’s teary eyes were already closing as they lifted her into the ambulance. She knew Adam’s praise, not the fumes, caused the moisture. She was in danger of breaking her vow and edging back into the superficial world of wealth and entitlement, because that was where Adam Patrick Hamilton, IV lived.

****

“Pops, how did you get here?” Sky croaked.

“I saw what happened on TV, hired security guards for the airfield, and got a pal of mine to fly me over. Are you okay?”

“Good enough. I was just telling this intern I’m leaving. They’ve tested me for everything but yellow fever. All I need is a cold compress for my eyes and a nap.”

“Okay, Adam should be here any minute, and he’ll take us back to the airfield. Or, do you want to go home?”

“I’m going to the Competition Gala. I don’t know if dumping my canopy will affect my score, but win or place, I’m not walking away like a quitter.” She inched her way off the examining table and stood.

Pops leapt forward and clasped her arm, steadying her. “Whatever bastard did this, I’ll wind his clock, I swear.”

“Get in line.” Adam stepped into the small room. His gray gaze inched over Sky taking in her red eyes and shaky body.

“Should you be standing?” he asked Sky, but his eyes focused on the intern.

“The doctor recommended Ms. Stravinski be admitted overnight for monitoring. It appears the toxin had no lasting effect. While she’s suffering from inflamed tissue in her eyes, nose, and throat, she will recover. We tested the toxin, and it is non-lethal.”

“In and of itself, maybe. It becomes a murder weapon if it’s injected into a clear pack holding another chemical. The two together eat through the capsule over time, filling a closed space with smoke and toxic fumes,” Adam bit out. “If Sky hadn’t accessed fresh air, in another second, she’d have been unconscious and dead on impact.”

“So that’s what happened. Someone dropped the capsule into her cockpit, and the acid ate through and released fumes,” Pops growled, his eyes blazing. “One of her competitors?”

“Andre,” Sky and Adam stated in tandem, but she continued, “He approached me just before I took off, had his hand on my cockpit edge.”

“I had cameras installed on the hangar and in the front of the plane. They caught him dropping the pellet behind your seat. He’s been arrested, and with the evidence against him, will be charged with attempted murder.” Adam stepped forward, as Sky sagged. He grasped her waist, lifted her, and set her back on the examining table. “If you’re determined to leave, at least wait until I get a wheelchair and your discharge papers.

“I was standing right there when he pulled it off, took my eyes off Sky and the Storm for a second while I answered a question from the press. This is on me,” he confessed to Max.

“That’s ridiculous.” Sky stroked her throat, as her loud exclamation made it feel like glass scraped along the lining. She lowered her volume. “I let him get close enough to succeed. It’s not your responsibility any more than mine.”

“Nobody could anticipate Andre would literally kill to win.” Pops mediated. “You get the chair. I’ll sit on her until you get back.”

Sky thanked the intern, insisting again she felt well enough and would rest better in the Airstream.

A half hour later, Pops brought her a cold gel pack Adam had picked up in the hospital pharmacy and tucked the blankets around her shoulders. She’d changed into a lightweight sweat suit and crawled into her bed in the Airstream.

The cold pack soothed her eyes, and the soft murmur of men’s voices lulled her into sleep.

****

When she woke, she found Adam at the table, working on his laptop. A complicated schematic in three dimensions rotated on the screen.

“What are you…” she stopped, clearing her throat, “working on?”

He’d slapped down the lid of the laptop and swiveled, his eyes assessing every inch of her with the speed of a lightning strike.

“Sorry, I wasn’t snooping.” She settled in a chair.

“I didn’t think you were. But I’m working on a government design, and it’s classified.” He stood, stretched.

She ate his tall lean body with her gaze, couldn’t decide which was sexier—the tendons showing beneath the bronze skin of his forearms, or the whirl of dark hair showing in the V of his shirt.

“Can I make you a cup of tea with honey? It will soothe your throat.”

Sky’s stomach growled. She realized she hadn’t eaten since supper the night before. Performing on a full stomach was never a good idea.

Adam’s mouth tilted. “I’ll amend that to soup. I picked some up at one of the food trucks. It’s chicken with vegetables and rice.”

“It sounds delicious. Yes, I’d like some and a cup of chamomile if you have it.”

He busied himself in the streamlined kitchen. She enjoyed watching him. All his movements were smooth, economical.

“Why would he do it? I always thought Andre was a sleaze bag, but not a murderer,” she mused.

“He needed the money. He gambles and got into debt, borrowed from a loan shark and defaulted on his payment. They’d threatened him, and in a panic, he came up with this scheme. He swears he didn’t expect you to die, just wanted to mess up your maneuvers and drop your score enough he would move ahead.”

“He must have known there was a high probability the capsule would rupture while I was in a maneuver that wouldn’t allow me to dump the canopy, before I fell unconscious.”

“Yes. He’ll get jail time, either for attempted murder or negligent homicide. For sure, he won’t be winning any prize money.” He set a bowl of fragrant soup in front of her and stirred honey into a mug of tea.

“Thank you, Adam, for all you’ve done for me and Pops.” Sky’s fingers had a fine tremor as she picked up the spoon. Residual fear still trickled through her body. She felt much better when she’d eaten, and the tea did soothe her throat. Thoughts of the Gala pushed the drama of the day away. Visions of hair styles, make-up, and her dress, replaced sabotage, betrayal, and greed.

The tub in the tiny bathroom off her bedroom was small, but inviting. “I think I’ll have a soak and get ready. What time should we leave?”

“Max said he’d swing by and pick us up at six. The dinner is at seven, and the award ceremony follows. Do you want more time here, and less time there before dinner?”

“No, that suits me fine. Have you heard anything about the results?” Nerves caused a feathery tickling in her throat.

“No. You were well in the lead. I don’t know if they’ll penalize you for breaking your sequence and losing your canopy. They’re keeping their rulings locked up tighter than our classified contracts.”

“The rules state you lose points for either of those mistakes.” Sky saw her goal floating out of reach. She firmed her shoulders and stuck her chin in the air. “It doesn’t matter. I did the best I could, with what I had at the time. I can’t ask more of myself. Whatever the outcome, I gave the other fliers stiff competition.”

“I like your attitude.” Adam stroked his hands down her arms and clasped her hands, pulling them away from her sides. “You’re an outstanding woman, Sky. Don’t ever under value your accomplishments.”

Still holding her hands, he wrapped them around her back and drew her into the warmth of his body. Sky rested there a few moments, absorbing his strength, until her need for him clamored like tiny hammers in her bloodstream and she couldn’t ignore her desire. She tugged free of his hands, walked away from his strength. She’d sworn she wouldn’t go there again.

Yet, as she settled in a tub of warm water a few minutes later, she acknowledged she was fooling herself. Adam was nothing like Brian. Her insistence that all rich men were entitled egotists was built on a premise so flimsy a light breeze would blow it away. Yes, fear held her back from getting closer to Adam, but it wasn’t fear he’d turn out to be another Brian. It was fear she’d find she didn’t fit into Adam’s world, any more than she had Brian’s. When that became clear, Adam wouldn’t just crush her confidence like Brian had. Adam would crush her heart.

****

Stunning. That’s all Adam’s befuddled brain could grasp as Sky stepped from her bedroom into the salon of the Airstream. She wore sapphire blue. A couturier gown in silk knit that clung like a lover’s embrace. His gaze swept over her from the high neck to the dainty sandals and slid back up, following the long slit that showed a glimpse of silken thigh. Her creamy skin glowed like the finest porcelain in contrast with the vivid blue. Long neck, slender arms, bared shoulders, and the soft curves of her breasts all outlined by the elegant dress.

When he got his breathing under control, he stepped closer. God, she was beautiful. “You take my breath away. I almost expired from oxygen deprivation. You look every inch a winner, Sky.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss on her knuckles.

A rap on the door startled them both out of the moment. “You kids ready?” Max asked through the screen.

A limousine waited in the narrow roadway between rows. They tucked themselves in. Adam indicated the champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, lifted his eyebrow in query

“Why not?” Sky accepted. “Tonight is for celebrating. Carpe diem.”

Bubbles fizzed, glasses clinked. “To seizing the moment,” Adam reiterated.

“To winning,” Pops crowed.

“To being alive,” Sky added, reveling in the crisp taste of the cool wine, the soothing feel of it sliding down her throat.

“I have some good news.” Pops commanded their attention.

With all eyes focused on him, he preened. “One of the things I did this past two days was pass my medical and take my flight test. I just got a call telling me my license is reinstated. I’m a bona fide pilot again.”

“Pops, that’s wonderful. I knew you wouldn’t be sidelined forever. You’ve worked so hard, changing your lifestyle and lowering your blood pressure into the normal range. If you passed your medical, that’s the best news of all.” She leaned across the seat and hugged him.

“Congratulations, Max. I know what it’s like not to fly, and getting that medical back, must feel like winning the lottery.” Adam raised his glass in a silent toast. His medical was scheduled in Houston on Monday. He didn’t know how he’d handle the disappointment, if they didn’t pass him.

The limousine drew up in front of the hotel hosting the Gala. Streams of people were emerging from cars, taxis, and limos and flooding up the stairs.

“We look like lemmings rushing to the sea,” Sky joked, picking up on his thoughts.

Adam concentrated on guiding her up the stairs, wondering how she managed them in five-inch heels with such grace. With an inner smile, he acknowledged his testosterone levels were off the charts. He felt prouder than a peacock and more protective than a panther, walking into the ballroom with Sky by his side. It seemed all eyes focused on them.

“Hmm, talk about the center of attention,” Max muttered.

Adam felt Sky’s poise waver, as she became the center of everyone present. Then her chin lifted, her light blue eyes sparked with determination, and she gave Adam a mischievous smile. She reminded him so much of Gita right then he stopped short. How he wished her grandmother could see her in this moment of victory. Win or lose, everyone in the room knew Sky was the champion of this event. Gita would have loved celebrating with her.

“I’ll get us a drink.” Pops headed toward the bar, while Adam settled his hand in the curve of Sky’s back and guided her into a circle of competitors. They circulated until it was time to find their table for dinner. As one of the sponsors, and a top competitor, they were seated at a table in the front, with the head judge and his wife and the sky boss and his girlfriend. Another competitor took the last chair, and Max was soon deep in conversation with him, discussing the European circuit.

Adam seated Sky and made introductions. He’d met the judge and the sky boss already. Seeing that Sky had another glass of champagne, and looked comfortable chatting with the judge on her right, he settled back, his gaze quartering the room. The Hamilton Aeronautics logo decorated a huge piece of one wall, with other sponsors’ logos circling the room. The centerpiece of flowers on the table held another smaller depiction of the black lines forming an airplane.

Again, as if their thoughts were meshed as closely as their bodies had been, Sky lifted her gaze from the centerpiece. “How much damage did Sky Dancer take when the canopy ripped loose?”

“It’s not bad. I’ve already phoned the factory, and they’re rushing another. They can overnight it to John Wayne, and you’ll have it late morning tomorrow. You’ll be able to fly Sky Dancer home with just a short delay.”

“I’m relieved. I wondered if she’d be ready for the Grand Prix. Three weeks, and we’ll be in Houston. The circuit will wind up for the year, and the air show season is over. The Grand Prix will be my last event.” She toyed with the stem of her glass and stared into space.

“What do you do then?” Adam couldn’t keep from asking.

“Instruct, check out the new Cessna, buy a bigger plane for the school, if I win tonight.”

Pops leaned across the other competitor and butted in. “You’ll also need to hire someone for the front office. I take my instructor’s flight next week, and once I’m reinstated, I’m going back to instructing. Either we’ll be doubling the number of students we take, or you hand over your students to me, your choice.”

“You’re just one big surprise.” Sky smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with pleasure. “I’m so happy for you, Pops. I know how much you have missed flying, and you are the best instructor out there. I might just step aside, if I decide to join the European circuit next season.”

Adam thought of Sky thousands of miles away, and something in his soul rebelled at the idea of the separation. The judge’s wife asked him a question, demanding his attention, and he tucked the feeling away, knowing he would investigate it later. It pricked too deeply to ignore.

Conversations around the room rose and fell, laughter, and celebratory gaiety burst outward from one table after another, like fireworks sparkling in the air. Waiters moved through the room, balancing huge trays, and distributing tasty course after course.

Adam could see Sky was fading. Though she kept a bright smile on her face and took part in the fast-moving conversation at their table, she was still suffering the after effects of the toxin, but masking it with a brave face.

As dessert was set before them and waiters filled cups with tea and coffee, Adam thought about approaching the MC and telling him to get on with it. Just as he was about to stand, the man rose and took his place at the podium.

“We’re here to celebrate a successful competition circuit,” he began, moving on to quote statistics on numbers of competitors, cities involved, and money earned. Then he began a long list of people to thank, from the judges to the volunteers.

Adam saw Sky set her fork beside her dessert and take a deep breath. She’d lost any color she had in her cheeks. He eyed her with growing concern, wondering if it was the thought of losing or deteriorating health affecting her.

She must have felt his gaze and turned, giving him an unexpected smile. Brilliant, her eyes a celestial blue, shone with a warmth that nearly annihilated his control.

He leaned forward, pressed his lips against her ear. “Do you know how much I want you,” he growled.

Straightening, he saw a flood of rose chase the underlying pallor from her complexion. This time, her smile held a soupcon of saucy, a full helping of sensual. He swallowed.

“And now I better announce the winners, or the competitors will revolt against me. Andre Dupont has been disqualified. Therefore, I’m happy to award the third-place trophy and prize money to our popular Australian…”

“Well, that’s one way of putting it,” Adam whispered against Sky’s ear.

“Interesting euphemism.” Sky feathered a warm breath against his cheek, as she whispered back.

As second place was announced, and an American friend of Sky’s stepped onto the stage, she grew still. Adam wondered if she’d stopped breathing.

“And our first-place trophy and prize money of a quarter of a million dollars goes to Sky Stravinski. Sky, will you come up and accept your winnings?”

Adam stood and pulled back Sky’s chair. “Go get ’em, sky girl.” He grinned at her. “You’ve earned every moment of recognition.”

Sky stood, gazing at seven hundred people on their feet clapping for her and froze in place. Her pupils contracted, her breathing accelerated, and for a second, Adam thought she might faint. He grasped her arm.

“Please, come with me,” she begged, looking more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. She licked her lips. “Please.”

“I’d love to escort you to the stage. Max, why don’t you take her other arm? If anyone deserves to be up there with her, it’s you.”

Max stood, and framing the petite woman with the courage of a dragon and a heart as fragile as cloud of vapor, they walked Sky onto the stage.

She accepted the huge trophy, handing it to Adam, then took the check, and passed it to Max.

“Speech, speech.” The crowd was sitting again, but demanding a few words.

Sky stepped up to the mic. In a voice huskier than usual, she thanked the sponsor of the competition, the judges, and the sky boss, setting the crowd laughing as she teased him about his oversized ruler. He was a stickler for pilots staying within the invisible box. Then she grasped Adam’s arm and pulled him up beside her. “And I must thank Adam Hamilton, of Hamilton Aeronautics, my sponsor, who not only makes me and my plane look good, but handles my many crises like the top F18 pilot and aeronautical engineer he is. Not many flyers have that depth of experience behind them, so I consider myself extremely fortunate.” She paused and smiled at Adam.

Turning to her right, where Max stood preening with pride in her, she continued, “And I’m honored to share this moment with my father, Max Stravinski. We’ve worked toward it for many years. He taught me to fly, gave me the freedom to test my limits, and picked up all the pieces a time or two when I exceeded them.” She paused as the room erupted in laughter again.

Max’s eyes swam with tears, as he hugged her. “Every moment was a trial and a joy,” he spoke into the microphone. “But we’re looking at the top aeronautical pilot in these United States, because she’s just that good.” He stepped back and started another round of applause for Sky.

They were tied up with photographers, media interviews, and people extending their congratulations for the next half hour. The Race sponsor and his wife had started the dancing, and the floor was filled with circling couples.

“Shall we?” Adam touched Sky’s shoulder.

She excused herself from the lady lecturing on how Sky had to crack the feminist barrier and fly right through the glass ceiling. She slid into Adam’s arms with a grateful look, and he guided her onto the floor and into a foxtrot. She followed his steps like they’d practiced for years. His eyebrow went up in surprise, again. Though she purported to abhor the lavish and luxurious, she seemed a natural part of it. Yet, she hadn’t grown up a trust fund baby, or even with wealthy parents. Max had barely scraped by when she was young, and she’d worked hard for everything she had.

He drew her closer and rested his cheek on her hair. She’d worn it long and straight, a stream of ash, gold, and silver flowing down her back. She smelled of roses and clear air and made him feel like he was flying at thirty thousand feet without oxygen. He got two dances with her before the men started cutting in, one interrupting the next, until Sky had danced with half a dozen.

Adam could see Sky’s brilliant smile had become forced, the color induced by elation fading, until her face was as pale as a china doll’s. He caught Max’s attention through the crowd and signaled him over.

“Should we call it a night?” He nodded at Sky. “I don’t want to cut short her triumphant evening, but she isn’t enjoying it anymore.”

“You’re right. That’s her suffer-in-silence look. Let’s get our gal home.”

Adam liked that Max accepted him, not just as a sponsor, but as a factor in Sky’s personal life. The other man trusted him with Sky, a sign of respect Adam valued.

Max cut in on the young man whirling Sky in an exuberant waltz, danced a few minutes with her, and moved her off the floor. “Are you ready for bed,” he asked her.

Sky’s gaze flew to Adam’s over Max’s shoulder. She blushed. “Yes, I’m wiped. Let’s get out of here.”

Max walked with them through the lobby and down the steps to the limousine. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to hang in a while, catch-up with some of my pals. I’ve arranged to stay with Bob tonight in his rig. He has plenty of room. I’ll come over for breakfast in the morning, and we can go from there.” He bent and kissed Sky’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Sky. You set yourself a goal, and you made it. Get a good sleep now. The world’s your apple.” He patted the check in his breast pocket. “I’ll keep this safe for you.”

“Thanks, Pops. You know I couldn’t have met that goal without you. I love you.” She stepped into the limo.

Adam followed her in.

She sagged against the seat. “I feel deader than a drained battery.” She gave him a small smile.

He sat back, wrapped his arm around her, and drew her close. “You can soak up as much energy as you need from me,” he offered.

With a shaky sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder, and in seconds, her even breathing and lax weight of her body told him she slept.