No doubt about it, a four-day, tent-sleeping, gear-lugging, outdoor-roughing-it hike in the Andes qualified for waaay outside her box. She’d been thinking more along the lines of a spa trip to St. Bart’s for a seaweed wrap-something she’d never done in a place she’d never been.
But even she had to admit that such pampering wouldn’t qualify as “challenging.” Was it fate that had Nelson scheduling her for this trip? Let’s hope so, her inner voice whispered. Right. As opposed to it being a bone-breaking, nightmarish, hikers-eaten-by-giant-snakes coincidence. Which probably just proved that this trip was fate. A mighty, between-the-shoulder-blades shove outside her comfort zone. One that, based on her St. Bart’s spa idea, she sure as hell wouldn’t have planned on her own. And one that was exactly what she needed.
In fact, if Dr. Brett Thornton wasn’t in the mix, everything would be perfect. Or at least as perfect as a four-day hike up a mountain could be.
The timing, however, was not great. With Meg’s wedding only a month away, her sister was bound to freak when she heard Kayla would be away for a week. Kayla took her maid-of-honor duties seriously, and she hated to leave Meg now-especially since her future in-laws were arriving this weekend from California. But unless she wanted to resign from her job here and now, she had little choice.
“Listen, Kayla, I know this is a bit outside your realm,” Nelson’s voice jerked her away from her thoughts, “but surely if Thornton, who no doubt spends all his time peering through microscopes, can make the hike, so can you.”
“So far you’ve flattered me, appealed to my vanity, and now you’re trying to rev up my competitive spirit.”
Nelson smiled. “Is it working?”
She wanted to say no. Tell him that she was tired. Physically, emotionally exhausted. And so damn weary of doing things she didn’t really want to do. Like trek to another continent to partake in what boiled down to spying on a man she had no desire to spend one minute with, let alone one week with. That between work and her crappy personal life, she was completely out of balance. But clearly Nelson wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and Thornton’s miracle product was too much of a temptation to ignore. As was the opportunity to exact some spy-filled revenge on the arrogant scientist. Yes, a bit of payback for the way he’d treated her staff and embarrassed her was exactly what he deserved.
She smiled. “Put me in, coach.”
“That’s the spirit. You’re booked to spend a day in Cusco, the city where you’ll overnight before departing on your hike to Machu Picchu. Maybe you can even strike up a conversation with Thornton during that time. According to our travel agency, your hotel is less than a quarter mile away from Thornton’s. All the information is on your itinerary.” A satisfied smile curved his lips. “The time with Thornton should give you ample opportunity to befriend him and find out what his plans are for the formula. And to make certain that La Fleur is in those plans.”
Nelson rose, indicating their meeting was concluded. “I’m out of the office for the rest of day,” he said, leading the way into the hallway, then turning toward the elevators. “I’ll want updates on your progress, although I don’t know what the cell-phone service will be like.”
Nervous jitters tingled down her spine at the thought of dead air space. Maybe this was stepping too far outside her box. But then she shook off her apprehension and mentally chanted her new mantra: No change, no gain.
They reached the bank of elevators and Nelson pushed the down button. “Bring home the goods here, Kayla, and the La Fleur world will be your oyster. We’re talking bonus, perks, another promotion.”
Only a few short months ago, she’d have been thrilled by those words. Now, for reasons she didn’t quite understand but that undoubtedly had to do with her life being out of balance, she felt a strong urge to tell Nelson that as far as she was concerned, oysters were nothing but icky bits of slime. Instead she smiled. “You can count on me.”
“I knew I could.” The elevator doors slid open and he stepped inside. “Oh, and be sure to pack some warm clothes. It’s hot during the day, but I understand it can get pretty chilly on the trail at night.”
The elevator door closed, and Kayla found herself staring at her own reflection in the polished brass door. She looked a little shell-shocked.
Not a big surprise, considering that’s exactly how she felt.
But, according to the U.S. Weekly Review article, this trip was exactly what she needed. And she’d learned long ago that when life handed you lemons, you made lemonade.
Of course, in the case of a four-day hike up a mountain with a man she regarded with high suspicion, she hoped this was more a case of life handing her limes, since, thanks to Brett Thornton, she didn’t doubt she’d need to make a margarita. Or two.
I understand it can get pretty chilly on the trail at night.
Three or four was definitely not out of the question.
2
SEATED AT a table at one of Cusco’s numerous outdoor cafés with a bottle of sparkling water at his elbow, Brett Thornton stretched out his legs and surveyed his surroundings. A sense of calm awe settled over him. Incredible to think that mere hours ago he’d been in fast-paced Manhattan, and now he sat where the mighty Incas had lived centuries ago.
His gaze drifted over the stately Plaza de Armas, the focal point in this picturesque city referred to as the capital of the Inca empire. Drenched in bright, late-afternoon sunlight, the plaza teemed with tourists and merchants. Lined with colorful arcades and carved wooden balconies, its building foundations laid by the Incas over five centuries ago, the plaza was a sight to behold and seemed imbued with the spirit of the people who’d once roamed the stone streets.
Leaning back, he took a sip of his water, the recommended drink to help acclimate to the high altitude, and for the first time in months, felt some of the tension that had been his constant companion ease. If he’d suspected how insane his life would become after publishing his findings regarding his anti-aging aphrodisiac, he would have taken more precautions to insure his privacy. He’d figured he’d receive attention, but he’d in no way been prepared for the blitz that had ambushed him.
And not only from every cosmetics firm. Acquaintances he hadn’t heard from in years suddenly wished to renew their friendship. He’d even received calls and correspondence from people claiming to be long-lost, distant relatives. Then there was the plethora of lawyers and financial advisors wanting to represent his interests, and charities asking for donations. He’d changed his number twice and disconnected his phone at work but they’d still found him. There were nearly ten thousand e-mails in his inbox.
Good God, now he knew how people who won the lottery must feel-overwhelmed and inundated. Crushed by everyone suddenly wanting a piece of the money, or in his case, the formula.
He’d happened upon the basics of the formula by accident in his home lab, but once he had, his scientific curiosity had pushed him to refine it. And after three years of research and experimentation, he was convinced it was ready to be introduced. All it had taken was publishing an article in a scientific journal, and then, like an exponential equation, the news had spread rapidly, mushrooming like a nuclear explosion. And his life hadn’t been the same since.
The upside was that if the formula proved successful and he sold it, he’d be financially set for life. Definitely a huge inducement, especially for a guy living in a cramped apartment in a very untrendy section of Manhattan with another decade worth of student loans to pay. And certainly it would be nice to pay off his parents’ mortgage and treat them to the sort of vacation they deserved.