Maybe it wasn’t friendship that made me see positive where I used to see only negatives.
Maybe it was more.
15
A LINE LONGER THAN MY…
Last place you went on an airplane?
Cole:Palm Springs for a golfing trip with my brother and my father last month.
Bridget:New York for a town hall meeting with John last summer. I sneaked away to seeSixone night.
BRIDGET
I’d tried to keep it a secret, but by now everyone at the retreat knew about my lost passport. Overwhelmed by a sense of trust and vulnerability after our game of capture the flag, I’d spilled it over sangria in the bar.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Gina asked me from the back row of the van on the ride to the airport. “I’d stay with you, but my mom will murder me if I’m not home to help her with the sweet potato pies.”
“It’s my fault,” I muttered. “First, for scheduling the retreat so close to Thanksgiving, and second, for losing my passport. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”I hope.I also had a mother whoexpected me at her table tomorrow. If I missed Thanksgiving dinner, I’d be on her shit list until Christmas. I didnotwant to be on Deirdre O’Brien’s shit list.
“I’ll keep an eye on Bridget,” Cole said from the row in front of us.
“You…what?” After the kayaking disaster, Gina had hardly let me out of her sight, and I hadn’t had a chance to talk with Cole about that moment I’d been sandwiched between his muscular chest and my door and almost lost my mind nor about the one in the hot springs, when I’d been a second from kissing him and five from licking a bead of water off him. Kissing my co-CEO would’ve been more catastrophic than falling into the snake-infested river and being sucked dry by hepatitis-carrying leeches. Unfortunately, there was no way he could’ve missed the way I’d whined with need, inches away from his face. I needed to find an opportunity to apologize. Maybe I could blame it on encephalitis or dengue fever.
“My flight is later tonight,” he said. “I’ll make sure you get your emergency passport and a flight out.” His tone was light, but there was an edge to it. Maybe he wanted to talk about that almost-kiss too?
“Thanks, Cole,” I said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait for your flight with the others at the airport?”
Stan chuckled. “We can’t be losing our co-CEO in a foreign country. Thanks for keeping an eye on her.”
“No, we can’t lose her.” Cole’s voice was so deep. I supposed that came from his big, broad chest, the one I’d been tempted to bury my nose in that night in the hot spring.
“I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me,” I snapped. “I’m a fully capable adult.”
Cole raised his dark eyebrows and turned to face the front.
We hit traffic on the way back to the city (the driver said it was because of a sloth crossing the road), and by the time we’ddropped off the team at the airport and reached the embassy, it was after two. A line stretched out the door and around the side of the building.
Cole cursed under his breath. “That line’s longer than my?—”
“No, it isn’t.” I chuckled. I’d seen the ridge in his shorts while I’d been checking him for leeches. It reminded me of the anaconda they’d warned us about before we’d set off on the river.
I clambered out of the van and strode toward the guard at the gate. I pasted on my most winning smile. “Hi, hello.”
“Hello, ma’am.” The American security officer was young with a few pimples scattered under the shade of his black ball cap.
“I see there’s a long line. Is it like at Disneyland, where everyone who’s in line gets to ride?”
“I’ve never been to Disneyland, ma’am, but no. They take the last person at 4:30. Everyone else has to come back Monday.”
“Monday? You mean Friday, right? Friday after Thanksgiving is a fake holiday.” My stomach sank to my knees. I had a terrible feeling that not only would I miss my parents’ Thanksgiving feast, but I’d miss the leftovers too.
“Friday is a Costa Rican holiday. Abolition of the Army. We’re closed.”
“And you aren’t open Saturdays?”
“Never, ma’am,” he said, patient as ever.
