LITMIR.BIZ

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but air beneath her had her nerves fluttering.

      The trick was to get good food that required little preparation. The only fire on the balloon would be the burners. Suddenly she stifled a giggle imagining the immaculate Ms. Valesquez toasting a hot dog in the flames of Rafael Sandoval’s balloon burners.

      It was far more likely he’d arrange for caviar and champagne for a snack.

      She stopped for a moment, trying to picture Teresa even in the balloon. It was mind-boggling. From what Stefano said, the balloonist had to pay attention to the wind to get the maximum speed. Adjusting the height of the balloon to take advantage of different wind speeds took concentration. Stefano’s rival would not be available to flirt with Teresa. Not if he was serious about winning. Did she realize that? Amalia knew Rafael would focus absolutely on winning the race rather than on the dubious delights of his passenger.

      Amalia shook her head. That was not her problem.

      It was Thursday. Saturday morning was the first event of the festival. Even as early as Tuesday, she’d begun seeing hot air balloons drifting by as balloonists from all over the world came to compete, show off and enjoy themselves. Foreigners were trying to get a feel for the locale and the winds before the festival officially opened.

      Twice she’d stood at her window for long moments watching balloons drift lazily over the sea. If she didn’t have a fear of heights, would she enjoy taking a ride in one?

      “They’re pretty, aren’t they?” Stefano asked, joining her at the window late in the afternoon. “You’ll have to come to see us off.”

      “Helena called a little while ago. She wanted to know if she should line up anything special for the long jump.”

      “I think I’ll thank Rafael’s PA at my acceptance speech when I get his check,” Stefano said thoughtfully. “She’s committed to being the perfect passenger. I wonder how Sandoval is faring with Teresa Valesquez?” He laughed at the thought.

      “You’re pretty sure you’re going to win. What if you don’t?” She would not relish working the week or so after such a loss. Her boss was not fun to be around when in a bad temper.

      “I will. I never even consider defeat.”

      “Helena says Rafael is saying the same thing.”

      “Ha, he’ll eat my dust.”

      Amalia didn’t operate that way. She always had a plan B in case plan A didn’t work.

      “You and Jose come to the field on Saturday to see us off. Check in at the gate to find out where we’ll be,” her boss said.

      She looked up at that. “Do you need me there?”

      “No, but I thought you might like to see us fill the envelope and lift off. Marguerite says that’s her favorite part,” he said, mentioning his wife.

      “The envelope,” she repeated, remembering the explanation she had read on the Internet.

      “The balloon. The nylon part is called the envelope. Then there’s the basket or gondola and the burners. It’s not rocket science, but I enjoy it.”

      “If the weather’s nice, we might come. I know Jose would love it. Of course, he’ll be explaining to me all about the physics that makes the lighter-than-air balloon fly with the added weight in the basket.” She loved her younger brother, but sometimes he left her in bewilderment discussing how things worked.

      * * *

      Saturday was a beautiful day. A bit on the cool side but perfect, as there were no clouds and only a brisk cool breeze blowing in from the Mediterranean Sea. Jose had been talking about the balloon festival ever since Amalia had told him they would attend. Stefano had instructed her to arrive at dawn as the balloons would be taking off very early. There were special buses from Barcelona to the festival, running on a frequent schedule.

      Once she got to the large field a few miles outside of Barcelona, Amalia was caught up in the excitement. She and Jose checked in at the gate and received a map of the field, and the grid where her boss had his balloon. She and her brother set off down the area between the balloons. There were well over a hundred, all in various stages of being inflated. Fans pumped air in the inflation process. Once the balloon was more than half full, the burners began. The noise from the burners was surprisingly loud as they were fired up to heat the air in the envelope. Men and women were working, talking, laughing.

      “Come to see me off?”

      Amalia looked to her left and saw Rafael Sandoval. His balloon was halfway inflated, the bright red and stark black striking in the early-morning light. The basket lay on its side, two people at the opening of the envelope holding it wide for the fan to pump in air.

      His attire matched the balloon, an all-black jumpsuit with a splash of red traversing his chest on the jacket. The colors suited him. The suit would keep him comfortable at the higher elevations and he could shed the jacket as the day warmed.

      “Actually I came to see my boss off,” she said, her eyes taking in all the activity around his balloon.

      “A man can pretend,” he said, flashing a smile at Jose. “I’m Rafael Sandoval,” he said, extending his hand.

      Jose shook it, introducing himself. “This is great. Can I see your balloon and watch how it inflates? I read up about the entire process.”

      “Sure, come on over.”

      Amalia stared after the two as they walked away. Jose should not be asking Rafael a dozen questions, the man was the competition. Stefano would surely be glad to give Jose answers to anything he could come up with.

      She started after them to rein in her brother, but they quickly outdistanced her, and before she caught up, Jose was actually at the side of the gondola, studying the burner apparatus with Rafael right at his side instructing. Members of his chase team joked back and forth, the atmosphere growing more festive.

      She watched, glad, despite her misgivings, that Rafael was taking time to explain everything so thoroughly. Stefano would have probably glossed over the details. Jose missed their dad more than anything. He had been a wonderful father, and the wound his loss had created would never be completely healed. With work and keeping their apartment and all, Amalia didn’t date seriously. She had to wait for any permanent commitment until her brother was no longer her responsibility. So there was not a steady male influence in Jose’s life. Had that been a mistake? Should she have tried to get married earlier to provide him with that adult male exposure?

      She looked around her. The noise level was growing. There were five long rows of balloons all being inflated, and the roaring sound the burners made filled the air. The bright colors were highlighted slightly by the flames, appearing to glow in the early dawn light.

      Looking back, she drew on her patience to wait until Jose had enough information so they could continue to Stefano’s balloon, still another half dozen farther along.

      Suddenly a long flame shot out of the burners of Rafael’s balloon, the noise startling. Jose was grinning, Rafael by his side, watching as the flame shot into the balloon, the two helpers holding the mouth of the balloon wide. As she watched, the envelope began to tilt upward.

      Rafael carried on pointing out things to Jose. Her brother looked as if he was in heaven. Amalia studied Rafael. He showed no impatience with the teenager. In fact, she thought it was a great kindness he let Jose even be there, much less try the burners.

      Glancing around, she didn’t see anyone looking like the picture she’d seen of Teresa Valesquez. Hadn’t she arrived yet? There was still time, as the balloon was only half-inflated. But Amalia would have thought the woman would have been there first thing.

      Amalia wondered what it would be like to be Rafael’s girlfriend. She suspected he was lavish in his gifts when first squiring someone around. Did he send flowers, chocolates, gifts of jewelry? She’d love to be wined and dined as he did it—always the best places in town. The theater, opera, sailing—all gave

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