He looked around the table, trying to figure out a creative way to ask her. He thought about putting the diamond ring in her champagne glass before he chuckled at the thought of her swallowing the expensive jewelry. The butter dish had a cover. He lifted the curved top and saw the dish was filled with butter, as if it was poured before it hardened. Perfect. He grabbed the ring by the center diamond and pulled it from the box. He pushed the ring so the band entered the butter first, stopping it halfway down. It sat propped up like it had been in the box. He smiled as he admired his handiwork. At least it will slip on easily. He replaced the cover and slid the dish closer to her side of the table.
He grabbed his glass of champagne and, taking a sip, looked over to see the couple eating their dinner. He turned and gazed out at the sailboats passing by in the channel, their masts casting long shadows over the calm water. He twirled the crystal flute with his fingers, causing the liquid to swirl up on its sides. Life couldn’t be better. SID finally gave him the opportunity to do what he had dreamt and trained for over most of his life, fly in space. He proved his worth to his superiors by achieving all the objectives on the dangerous back-to-back missions. Their success placed him as the front-runner for future space assignments.
His personal life was at an all-time high—he’d found the perfect woman. He was excited Anya had agreed to move in with him. He was finally ready to settle down and start a family. He lifted his glass and gave himself an imaginary toast. As he took a sip, his smile couldn’t have been bigger.
Anya walked around the corner, brushing her black bangs from her eyes. They locked eyes as she approached. She smiled as she pulled out her chair and took a seat.
Peter stood and lifted both arms up so they were perpendicular to his body, palms up. He probably looked like the Fonz whenever the icon saw a hot chick. “I’m one lucky guy.”
Her smile broadened.
Peter sat and instantly his foot started bouncing again. He couldn’t wait any longer. He felt like a little kid with a secret he couldn’t keep as he slid the breadbasket over to her side of the table. “How about a piece of bread?”
She reached over and pulled off the cloth cover. A serious look crossed her face. “When do you have to go back to D.C.?”
Peter tilted his head. “Day after tomorrow. I shouldn’t be there for more than a day. When I get back we can start looking for a place to live.” He decided not to evict the renter who was in his condo. “It’s mainly to debrief the mission. I doubt I’ll be given another assignment. I’ll probably be given the astronaut refresher training at Johnson Space Center I was supposed to do before the moon mission. So I should be stationed in the area for awhile.”
Anya shot him a skeptical look. “You just finished a month of great training and space experience. I seriously doubt SID would waste your talents on further training.”
She was probably right. “Who knows?”
Anya reached for a roll and placed it on a small plate before placing the cloth back over the bread. Peter had a mischievous grin as he watched the butter dish out of the corner of his eye. His leg bounced higher.
Anya held off reaching for the butter. “I think I am going to go back to Russia when you leave.”
Peter’s head jerked back. “Why?”
Anya looked out the window as she bit her upper lip. An uncomfortable moment passed. “I’m thinking maybe I should hold off transferring out here to Houston.”
Peter’s foot stopped bouncing. They had discussed her transferring out to Zaftra’s Houston office so they could move in together. Over the last ten years, Anya’s job required her to commute between the company’s Russian headquarters and their Houston office. She was sure she could do her job from either country. He leaned in. “Why? We don’t want to have a long-distance relationship like you and Dean had.”
She slowly turned her head in his direction and sadness filled her eyes. She grabbed his hand. “I just think maybe we should slow down a little. It’s not that I don’t love you. I think you’re wonderful. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But…” she turned to look back out the window.
Peter’s insides sank as the word “but” lingered in the air like a bad stench. “But what?”
She turned back to look him in his eyes. “I’m not sure I can be married to a James Bond, who at any time could be on some assignment, who knows where, risking his life.”
Peter’s heart sank further as he fell back in his chair. This was the first time hearing she had any issues with his job. He quickly regained his composure as he leaned in and squeezed her hand. He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m twice as good as James Bond. In fact you can call me Agent Double-O Fourteen.”
Anya gave a grim smile. “That’s the problem. I do worry about you, especially when you’re in space.”
Peter patted her hand with his free one. “It was a fluke I did that second mission in space so soon after the first. It was only because I knew how to fly the Galileo. It was the only way of getting the cosmonauts back. Keep in mind, I was with SID for years before going up. I may never be assigned another space mission.”
Anya arched her eyebrows as she let go of his hand and sat back. “I just think it’s best for now. Let’s just give it some time.”
She grabbed her butter knife and started to reach for the butter dish. Peter lurched forward, quickly grabbing the dish. Anya tilted her head and shot him a baffled look.
Peter clumsily picked up the dish and set it by his side. “There’s no butter. I already checked.”
An awkward silence hovered over them as he searched for the waitress. The elderly couple caught his eye and flashed a thumbs-up sign. Peter sadly shook his head.
PETER SAT ALONE in Gavin’s office waiting for his boss to return from another meeting. Lola assured him the director would be right back. He set his cup of coffee on the desk next to the picture of Gavin’s youngest daughter, Krystal. He picked up the frame and looked at the sixteen-year-old. He assumed it was her high school picture. She wore a bright-blue blouse that brought out the blue in her eyes, her brown wavy hair following the curve of her face, flowing past her shoulders. She was a very pretty girl. Gavin always seemed to comment on the struggles he had with his family, but deep down, Peter could tell he was a proud father.
He set the picture down as he leaned back in the leather chair and stared out at the clear blue skies through the window. He was ready to experience having a family, and he thought Anya was too. He received mixed signals when they said their goodbyes at the airport earlier in the day. He could feel her strong love for him, but something was missing. In the back of his mind, he felt her distance was probably due to the miscarriage. The subject had been taboo since he returned from the moon. She just didn’t want to talk about it. He felt guilty for not being there to comfort her through the tragic experience.
He looked back at Gavin’s daughter as he lightly drummed his finger tips on the chair’s armrests. He needed to do something. He couldn’t let Anya slip away. He balled his hand into a tight fist before pounding down hard on the chair. “I’ll fly to Russia as soon as I’m done here. I’ll convince her we’re made for each other, and we can deal with any crisis, no matter what it is, as long as we do it together.” He crossed his legs as he relaxed deep in the chair, satisfied he would fix whatever problem there was.
Peter was brought back to reality with a solid pat on the back. “Who are you talking to?”