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There’s silence at his end of the line, and that wakesmysenses. When was the last time I told a man I was naked? Somehow it feels natural, and it rouses the sultriness in me—a man at the other end of the line is imagining my body.
After a couple of minutes, I drawl, “Rob?”
He swallows, and then replies, “Well, alright. I’ll ask Robby to come later if that makes you feel better.”
“And please ask him to take a normal car, not a Pullman.”
“What’s wrong with a limo?”
“It’s Santa Maria, Rob! Not Hollywood.”
“As you wish.”
The call ends, and I frantically continue with my makeup while Mama puts the final touches on my hair.
About an hour later, Robby arrives at my door.
“Hello again!” he greets me. “Your chariot awaits.”
I’m glad it’s a Toyota Prius.
Just in time, Jarrod arrives. Donning a wowed face, he says, “Is he still the same guy who sent you that rose?”
Really, he doesn’t have to remind me!
“Don’t let Mama out of your sight,” I say without answering the question.
“Aye-aye, ma’am.”
“Rosa! Don’t forget this!” Mama runs to me with Captain Beau, whom I’ve renamed Captain Robson.
“God!Grazie, Mama!”
“Divertiti,” Mama says and gives me a peck on the cheek.Have a good time, she said—I hope so.
With Captain Robson in one hand and my gold tote in the other, I hop into Robby’s car. We get to the Santa Maria Airport in no time.
Wyatt greets me at the tarmac. “Shotgun?” he says, ready to open the co-pilot door.
“Indeed.”
Up in the air, Wyatt maneuvers the chopper with style, this time showing off a few semi-acrobatic moves, which I commend him for.
“From Rob,” Wyatt says, handing me a package of soft gummies.
I smile, opening it to pick out a few.
“So, Wyatt, you were with the Navy as a pilot?” Now every time I see the man, I’m conditioned to fish for information about Rob.
“Yes. I’ve been flying for thirty years now. A lot of men grew up in the Navy, and I was definitely one of them. So was Mr. Hartley. He joined the Navy when he was seventeen. I have a war story about him, if you’re interested.”
“Go on.”
“This happened when he was in his second year as a SEAL. We were in a rescue mission in Afghanistan and had to drive across to Kabul. About three miles in, an RPG hit us, destroying our Humvee’s turret, so we had no real weapon that could protect us. Then, a blast from a roadside bomb hit our vehicle good.”
Did Rob get injured? Maybe I shouldn’t have asked Wyatt after all. I feel myself lacerating just thinking about shrapnel peppering his body.
My pilot continues, “We ran to take cover inside an abandoned house. But this one guy, Private Ruiz, only eighteen and on his first deployment, had a panic attack and froze in the middle of the road like a sitting duck. Mr. Hartley, a sergeant at the time, ran out and picked the boy up.”
