Page 33 of Frequency of Attraction

Trav nodded and walked away.

“Are these actually a thing in Moscow?”

“Not where I drank.” He took a deep drink of his beer. It wasn’t bad. He still preferred vodka.

The bartender, Trav, ambled back over after a few minutes. “What do you think of the beer?”

“It’s good.”

He nodded. He tapped his fingers on the bar a few times, opened and closed his mouth like he wanted to say something.

“What?”

Trav hesitated. “You work at OrbitAll. Do you know Quinn?”

His stomach muscles contracted. “Yeah. Why?” The word came out sharper than he meant it to.

“She’s cute. Sweet. She comes in every few weeks, but I’m not getting anywhere. I don’t even think she knows I’m flirting with her.”

First of all, Quinn wasn’t cute. She was beautiful. And she wasn’t sweet. She was feisty and loyal. Lisa snorted while Vadim really looked at the man for the first time. Trav was in decent shape. Not bad looking. Friendly enough. He had a dopey band T-shirt on, though. Quinn could do worse. She could also do better. Way better.

“Do you have any advice for me? For Quinn?”

Vadim went back to his beer. “No.”

“Oh, fuck.” Trav sounded spooked. “There she is. See? Every few weeks, like clockwork. I wonder if tonight’s my night. Fuck, she’s so pretty. That accent kills me.”

Vadim and Lisa turned their heads in unison. Lisa leaned closer to Vadim, presumably so she could get a better look at the woman who had Trav acting like a girl. Quinn noticed them at the same time. She stalled, even took a step backward. Emotions crossed her face like clouds across the moon. Before Vadim could translate her expression, Quinn turned and walked out.

“Damn. Guess it’s not my night.” Trav threw a towel over his shoulder and stalked off with a sigh.

Vadim watched the door to see if she’d come back. She didn’t.

“You should go,” Lisa prompted.

He shifted his gaze. “Why?”

“Because you shut Trav down about her, and she obviously didn’t expect to see you here. Something’s up between you two.”

“Or I have nothing to tell Trav. And maybe Quinn just doesn’t like crowds.”

“Even you don’t believe that. I know that look on her face. You really need to go after her. Save yourself the heartache.”

Vadim drained his beer, stood with a sigh, and dug a couple dollar bills out of his wallet. He tossed them on the bar and turned toward Lisa. “I hope next week is better. No hemorrhoids.”

She smiled. “I hope you stay out of the papers. Nice to meet you, Vadim. Good luck with your girl.”

Quinn wasn’t his girl, but it looked like he’d need the luck anyway.

17

Quinn’s hands shook as she drove back to the hangar. She didn’t want to go home. The drive was too long and she’d have nothing to distract her. She’d just wanted some fried pickles. Now she wanted fried pickles and to forget that Vadim was single and drop-dead gorgeous. Temptation likely shadowed his every step. Of course he was entitled to have a good time. He and Quinn were more business partners than couple. The woman in scrubs, she was sure, would be a lot less effort for him.

She parked right next to the entrance of the hangar and tried not to stomp inside. The place would be empty. Everyone left early on Fridays unless they had a flight campaign running. Now that Vadim had been certified, those would start up again. They were back on track. He just needed to hone his skills as an actual pilot. With his ability to read and react to her body, she wasn’t worried. Reading and reacting defined a good pilot.

She should think about something—anything—else.

Quinn yanked her laptop out of her bag and connected to the dock on her desk. Yes, sheshouldthink about something else, but she’d promised the citizens of Victory an exclusive event in the next two weeks. Her plan had been an ask-me-anything type event with Vadim and Harv, Stratos’ other pilot. The newbie and the veteran. They’d get ahead of the press and let people ask the future astronauts anything they wanted. She wanted to remind the public that these men weretheirastronauts. They weren’t lofty beings; they were people with feelings who lived and worked in this town just like they did. The event plus the passive-aggressive language she’d used in the ad should offset the damage Jerry had tried to inflict on OrbitAll. On Vadim.

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