Ignite by Tana Stone

Chapter Four

Zoey

“What just happened?” Nina asked after the captain had stormed off.

“I believe he approved the waterfall addition without any additional time,” Reina said, her face creased with worry. “Is that possible?”

Normally, I’d have said no. You couldn’t add to a project without adding extra time to it. But after Kalex had challenged me, implying that if I’d been smart enough to earn this job over every other candidate then I could find a way, I had to try. “We’ll make it happen.”

Nina groaned. “I know what that means. No mojitos for me tonight.”

I gave my friend a mock look of sympathy. “I thought you said the mojitos they made here sucked?”

“They do.” She let out a tortured sigh. “You can’t make a decent mojito with that alien booze, but at least they take the edge off work and being so far from home.”

I put an arm around her shoulders. “How about this? I promise to find a way to get some decent rum up here, if you help me crank out this work.”

She eyed me. “Cuban rum?”

“Don’t push it.”

Nina laughed and tossed her curls off one shoulder. “Okay, any rum will do. And you have yourself a deal, Boss Lady.”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname, although it secretly pleased me. Not that anyone called me that but Nina. Still, I’d worked hard enough, fighting against plenty of stereotypes and prejudice, to get where I was, and I deserved to be the boss. Too bad the captain didn’t see it that way.

My pulse fluttered as I remembered the way Kalex’s eyes had flashed, not with their usual annoyance or anger, but with something else—something darker. His husky voice had sent a jolt through my body and made heat pulse traitorously between my legs. That hadn’t happened in years, and it made no sense that he’d been the one to provoke it.

Captain Kalex was a thorn in my side. He’d done nothing but question me and thwart all my ideas since I’d arrived. At first, I’d thought it was because I was a human, and then maybe because I was a woman, but considering the way he’d reacted to that accusation, maybe he was just an asshole. A gorgeous asshole, who made my mouth go dry.

I pushed aside the thoughts of Kalex and how my body had reacted. The last thing I needed was some weird crush on a guy I didn’t even like. I needed to keep my head in the game if I was going to finish this project on time, especially with all the changes being thrown at me. Men were nothing but a distraction, which was why I’d faithfully avoided them since my fiancé had died. Theo had been the last guy I’d cared about, the only one I’d allowed to get close. I’d let him in and allowed myself to fall hard for him. When I’d finally recovered from his death, I promised myself I’d never let myself be that vulnerable again. It hurt too much to lose him, and I never wanted to hurt like that again.

“Should I even ask about my changes to the fantasy suites?” Serge said, his fuchsia hair gradually becoming purple again.

“No,” Nina and I said at the same time.

Serge jumped, his elbows going out to the side and reminding me of a very yellow grasshopper. “I suppose I should be grateful for the waterfall. I’m sure Mandy will forget all about her fantasy suite ideas. She’s got new-baby brain, anyway.”

“Why don’t we go down to the promenade?” I suggested. “We already know where the waterfall will go, but I’d love to check on the construction of the shops and cafes.”

Serge led the way to the end of the bridge, swiping his hand over a metal panel to open the door to the inclinator. Stepping inside, we were greeted with glowing pink light and soft background music.

“I thought we agreed to tone it down with the Earth nostalgia,” I said, turning to Serge once I recognized the instrumental version of “Baby’s Got Back.”

The doors glided shut and the inclinator car dropped before rotating and continuing down. Drexian inclinators were like our elevators, but they were multidirectional, the compartments spinning and twisting while keeping passengers upright. The engineering had been of particular fascination to me when I’d first arrived. That was before I’d seen the rest of Drexian technology.

“What?” Serge gave me an innocent look. “I didn’t use any of the television theme songs that you deemed ‘cheese flavored.’” He made air quotes with his fingers.

“Cheesy?” Nina asked, her lips twitching.

He snapped his stubby fingers. “That’s it. Cheesy. You said no cheesy, vintage-TV theme songs, so I didn’t use them.”

“Instead, you used questionable hip-hop played by a string quartet?”

Serge put his hands on his hips. “What’s questionable about this song?”

I put my hands on my own hips. “Baby Got Back?”

Serge shrugged. “I see no problem. All babies have backs. It’s an integral part of anatomy.”

“It does seem harmless.” Reina bobbed her head up and down, clearly pleased to be agreeing with her Gatazoid colleague again. “Everyone loves babies.”

“This is all true,” Nina said, grinning widely at me as we came to a gentle stop and the inclinator doors swished open, as a new instrumental song began to play.

I groaned and shook my head, deciding to let this one go and accept the fact that I’d be enjoying “Funky Cold Medina” played on the harp for the foreseeable future. “Never mind. Let’s see how the promenade is coming along.”

We stepped out onto a paved walkway, and I peered up. From below, the view of the wide open-air atrium was even more impressive, and the view of space from the clear walls more spectacular. The inclinator shafts twisted up overhead, creating a web of clear tubing that was interspersed by bridges connecting one side of the station to the other. From the outside, the station looked like a beefy baby’s rattle with wide discs at the top and bottom, and a long, central atrium connecting them. The promenade was located in the bottom disc, although there were quite a few levels below it, including lots of the station’s storage and quarters for the staff.

“The promenade on the Boat was designed to resemble Beverly Hills,” Serge reminded us. “But this one has more of a European feel to it.”

Nina winked at me, clearly as amused as I was that Serge spoke about Earth as if he was a native, when, in fact, he’d never set one platformed foot on the planet.

“Like Paris without all the dog poop,” I said.

Serge made a face. “Another reason human pets are not allowed on the Island.”

The wide avenue that was almost fully constructed did have a European feel, although it was more of an eclectic mix of multiple places instead of a close recreation of one country. A glass-fronted bakery had a black-and-white striped awning over its door, and it was easy to imagine the case filled with croissants and apple tarts. Next door was a bookstore with a weathered-looking, wooden door that would have looked at home nestled in London’s Notting Hill. And across from the bookstore was a coffee shop that looked so much like a Starbucks knock-off that the green awning made my mouth water as I imagined the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

“You okay?” Nina asked.

“What?”

“You moaned out loud,” she told me, one eyebrow lifting. “What on earth were you thinking about?” She gave me a wicked grin. “Unless who you were thinking about isn’t on earth.”

I laughed. “Not a who—a what. Coffee.”

“You were moaning over coffee?” Reina asked.

Nina nodded. “I feel that.” She glanced at Reina. “No offense, but the Drexian version of coffee doesn’t cut it.”

“But it has more protein and nutrients than your human stimulant,” Reina said.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “It still can’t beat a quality cappuccino from Seattle.”

“This again?” Serge loosed a tortured breath. “I know you miss your home, but I can’t imagine something being as good as you keep saying Seattle’s coffee is.”

“There’s plenty about Seattle I don’t miss,” I said. “The rain, the cost of living, the rain. But you’d never convince me to live in space for good unless you managed to get a decent barista up here.”

“Baristas?” Reina cocked her head. “Are those like the Teralistas from Terra Prime?”

“They’re not a type of alien,” Nina said. “They’re specialists in making coffee.”

Reina tapped her fingers on her chin. “A species that only makes special coffees. How strange.”

Nina smiled at me with amusement. “Again, she’s not wrong.”

Serge jumped as his device trilled, sighing when he pulled it out and looked at the screen. “Mandy again. I’ll have to break it to her about the fantasy suites. Let’s hope she isn’t feeling weepy today. I do not do well with tears.”

I shook my head as I walked forward, visually inspecting the buildings that lined the wide walkway. Although the shops weren’t stocked yet, it was easy to imagine the cafe filled with people sitting around the wooden tables, the racks in the boutiques brimming with stylish clothes, and the bridal salon’s wide, glass windows displaying billowing, white gowns. Before I could even feel the pang of regret that I’d never wear one of those gowns, a scream tore through the air.

“Heads up!” Someone yelled from above as a metal beam came hurtling down.

We all ran for cover, except for Serge who was absorbed in the video call, one finger pressed into his ear.

“Serge!” I screamed.

“I cannot hang up on her again,” he said, waving a hand at me, obviously unaware of the danger.

Just before the beam crashed into the paving stones, I spun around and dove for Serge.