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lost track of time as she redirected the energy that had pooled between her legs to a more functional part of her body. When she felt comfortable enough to walk, she opened the door and returned to her seat without making eye contact with her client.
    Sara was on the telephone in the back of the plane again, probably with Rikki, from the lovey-dovey sound of her voice. Reclining against the headrest, Zak decided to at least pretend to sleep. The flight would last several more hours, during which she hoped to rest, not be distracted, and avoid another confrontation.
    “Okay, darling, love you, too.”
    Sara’s farewell reverberated through the hull more audibly than the rest of her conversation. The small enclosure was eerily quiet for several minutes until Zak recognized hard punching into the phone key pad as Sara placed another call. She wasn’t ready for what came next, even though she’d asked for it.
    “Randall? Yes, we’re airborne. I need a replacement guide as soon as possible. Never mind the details. Suffice it to say that it’s not going to work.” Her voice had an edge of sadness and her tone was more resigned than triumphant.
    Apparently the other party wanted to discuss her instructions further. “For God’s sake, not you too. Just get it done,” she asked wearily, then ended the call and dialed again.
    Sara’s request jabbed at Zak’s sense of duty and pride. She’d never asked to be removed from an assignment and never been replaced on one. It was like tanking the mission. She knew it was going to happen, had to happen, but the reality struck her as a failure, like she was personally deficient. She couldn’t handle her feelings about this situation, about this woman enough to finish the job.
    Sara’s next conversation was entirely different. Her tone changed from strained and professional to solicitous and friendly as she shared personal stories with someone who was obviously a close friend. Zak just wanted solitude. As she sank into the haze of near sleep, Sara’s voice took on a melodic quality. Her soothing whispers and soft laughter were almost relaxing, like a book on tape. Zak’s eyelids grew heavy as the merry chatter continued in the background of her consciousness and she drifted off.
    Sometime later a loud rumble outside the plane returned Zak to alert. The small jet bucked and wavered in the thunderstorm. She opened her eyes and Sara was sitting next to her, clinging white-knuckled to the seat, gaze terrified.
    “Don’t like thunderstorms, ’specially when I’m inside ’em trapped in a ’lum-i-num tube. There’s somethin’ not healthy ’bout that.” Sara’s complexion blanched, the freckles across the bridge of her nose standing out like pebbles.
    “They’re actually pretty safe, these aluminum tubes.”
    “That’s easy for you to say, Ms. Ninja-Not-’fraid-of-Nuthin’.” She put her hand to her mouth and giggled. “Sorry, I meant muffin. I mean nothin’. I guess several shots of vo’ka weren’t such a good idea after all. Seemed like a good thing at the time.”
    Zak couldn’t conceal a smile. Few people acknowledged their fear so readily. “Just relax. The storm will pass shortly.”
    “You ’lax. I’m tensed. Talk to me or somethin’.” Sara poked a serious face and stabbed an accusatory index finger at her. “Oh! I forgot. You don’t talk.”
    “Why don’t you talk?”
    “Now you’ve done it. Opened up that Ambrosini gas bag of gab. I’ll talk your gorgeous little ears off.”
    She released her grip on the seat, slid out of her suit jacket, and slung it over her head. Settling back, she wiggled a hand through the crook of Zak’s elbow and locked their arms on top of the armrests. The gesture was so natural and innocent that Zak almost placed her other hand on top of the joining. That realization flickered through her like a cold chill and her muscles recoiled.
    “I forgot. I’m not s’pposed to touch you either.” She started to move