All the Right Moves(65)

“Yeah,” he said.

When nothing immediately followed, Cassie hung up. She shoved her cell in her pocket, and went back to slicing limes, careful not to hurt herself. Not to let it show.

* * *

RICK AND THE GUYS were doing something in a bar John couldn’t remember the name of. Picking up women was more accurate, but they’d been talking about shooting pool, too. He had left the hotel twice. Once for dinner last night. Once to get coffee this morning. He’d have gone home already but it was marginally better to stare at San Francisco than the Vegas Strip.

Ten a.m. tomorrow morning was the deadline he’d set for himself. He’d make a decision if he had to flip a coin. The indecisiveness was intolerable. For each pro there was a con, for every logical thought, an emotional backlash. He’d even considered asking for a temporary delay, an exception, which was laughable considering.

Tony Wagner hadn’t helped matters. He’d called, and when John had told him he hadn’t yet come to a final verdict, instead of doing them both a favor and telling John to go to hell, he’d almost doubled the salary, and increased his days off to six weeks a year, which didn’t include the days he wasn’t flying.

Through it all, though? Cassie. John had latched on to her with the desperation of a man about to fall off a cliff. But she was both balm and curse. Her words kept him from sleeping. Dead of night seemed to be saved for self-awareness and there was no more painful a place to be. When it was light out and he was alone in the suite, that was when she came to him in sense memories and vivid daydreams. He could recall her in such detail it was a little frightening. The sounds she made, the softness of her inner thigh, her hair as it fanned across a pillow. He—

His cell cut into his thoughts. It was Sam. He almost shut it down, but he couldn’t. It was Sam. “Hey, buddy.”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been having a weird week. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, but...”

“What?”

Sam cleared his throat, which meant he was nervous. “Are you avoiding me because you think it’s a bad idea? Me calling Emma?”

The non sequitur took John a moment. “No. You thought I wasn’t calling because... No. I think it’s fine. I hope for both your sakes that she’s amenable. You two were friends.”

“Okay, then. What do you mean, weird week?”

John smiled. “Just, you know.”

“No, I don’t, so you’d better fill me in. You always call back, even if it’s to tell me to stop calling. Talk to me, Devil.”

John started to waffle, but the idea of being indecisive about one more thing made him want to stab himself in the eye. “I’m not sure I’m going to reenlist.”

The silence filled all the empty space there was, until, “Why not?” The question was asked carefully, in a modulated tone. Sam was good at the neutral inquiry, had it down to a science.

“I got another offer. A great deal of money to fly a jet for a very rich man. Everywhere. First class all the way.”

There was another sizable pause. “Did someone hit you in the head with a baseball bat? You’ve never loved anything in life the way you do being a fighter pilot.”

John shrugged, although Sam couldn’t see it. Thankfully. Because if he could, he’d see the flush that had heated his face. “It’s hasn’t been the same. I mean, the flying is good. It’s great. I love it. I do. It’s everything else.”

“You’re gonna need to be more specific there, ace.”

“It’s not any one thing. It’s the bubble. That we live in. The way we’re treated. No. That’s not right. The way we expect to be treated. As if we’re owed something. That we’re special snowflakes and everyone who isn’t flying is support personnel, no matter what they—” Shit. “I didn’t mean—”

“Okay, no. I get it. I really do. This all boils down to me and Danny.”

“What? No, it doesn’t. Not everything’s about you, you jerk.”

“But in this case it is about me. I’m fine, John. I’m fine. Sometimes it hurts like hell that I can’t get up there again, but mostly, I’d rather be doing this than any other thing I can think of. The air force is my family. I fit. So do you. So did Danny. And you’re not dishonoring him or me by continuing to fly. Life doesn’t work that way. It’s random, and there’s no reason for you to feel any guilt for things you didn’t do.”