Space in His Heart Read Free Page B

Clooney and make way,
Russell Crowe. America’s about to fall in love with Commander Deke
Stockard.” The audible gasp from nearly every person in the room
punctuated her sentence and sucked all the air out of his lungs.
“From his outstanding biography and obvious affinity for the
camera, we’re confident that we can make Commander Stockard a
household name and, in the process, make America swoon over space
once again.”
    Each word detonated in his head like
unexpected grenades.
    “And just how the hell do you plan to do
that?”
    At the sound of his question, her eyes
flashed and she peered into the crowd, but she answered without
missing a beat. “Although most of the world doesn’t know this, it’s
a far more scientific process than you realize.”
    “Scientific?” he shot back, aware that heads
had turned his way. “You’re in a room full of scientists.”
Scientists having adolescent fantasies about cleavage, but
scientists just the same. “You better explain exactly what you have
in mind. Miss .”
    Just as he uttered the condescending final
syllable, her gaze landed on him. She raised her chin, giving him a
clear shot of her throat as she took a long, hard swallow.
    “That’s an excellent question. Commander .” Her ebony eyes narrowed, as piercing as her
laser pointer. “We do it through strategically placed photo ops and
a blitz of TV and print coverage that keeps the public wanting
more. We set him up on red carpets at movie premieres, side by side
with celebrities. Then we make sure it all gets into Entertainment Weekly and on E! Television. We get him on Jay
Leno. We drop candid photos on the wire services. We seat him in
the front row of the seventh game of the NBA playoffs. It’s an
orchestrated campaign. That’s what a great PR firm does.”
    Who the hell did she think she was,
plastering his picture on that screen and making pronouncements
about sex appeal?
    He started down the steps toward her. “We
don’t go to NBA playoff games or movie premieres. We don’t seek
celebrity status.” He let the disdain drop like bombs with every
word and every step. “We are aviators and engineers and explorers.
We develop experiments to advance medicine.” He paused as he
reached the halfway mark, his gaze locked on his pretty target. “We
send satellites into orbit to monitor terrorism.” He moved closer,
purposely letting his voice intensify with each step. “We fix
billion-dollar telescopes so scientists can see into the past and
the future.”
    At last, he stood on the same level, a few
feet away from her, glad for the advantage of his height since she
wore those stilts on her feet. “That’s what we do.” He
leaned in closer so she’d inch away. She didn’t. “It doesn’t
involve Jay Leno.”
    A spark lit her eyes, but he was blind now to
her fiery appeal, furious with himself for admiring her physical
assets while she was busy announcing that he’d become some sort of
NASA poster boy.
    They stood face-to-face, the audience no
doubt spellbound at the unexpected showdown. He waited for her to
back down.
    But, son of a bitch, she just crossed her
arms and took a step toward him.
    “Without tax dollars, Commander Stockard,
there will be no experiments, no exploration and no telescopic
views into the present or the past.” He could hear the tiniest
shudder in her voice, but she held her ground and his gaze. “NASA
has called in experts to reverse an extremely negative tide of
public opinion. This is one tactic that hasn’t been tried and one
we know can work.”
    You are sorely mistaken, sweetheart .
He was nobody’s tactic . He finally broke their eye contact
and brushed by her to leave the room.
    “Count me out, spin doctor.”
    * * *
    Oh, boy. Professional purgatory might be
worse than she’d feared. Jessica watched the imposing figure
disappear, along with about a quart of blood from her head. She
turned and offered a tenuous smile to her audience, hoping the
perspiration that