“Just someone I met a week ago. He needed some help with a friend’s cat.”
“Uh-huh.” She looks me up and down. “How many times have you two spoken? It must have been quite a few. I know you. One, you’re on a first-name basis with Ferdinand, and two, there is no way you’d be so casual about taking suggestions from him unless you trust him.”
“His name is Fernando,” I automatically correct.
Her eyes gleam with mischievousness, challenging me to try and sneak a lie past her. We hold one another’s gaze for several seconds before I give in. Daph has always been able to get whatever she wants out of me. She’s so darn stubborn and would never back down from a challenge when we were kids.
My shoulders hunch. “We crossed paths at the antiques market on Saturday. And yesterday, we went out for dessert after he helped me out with my monthly clinic. My car wouldn’t start, and he offered me a ride. I felt like it was the least I could do.”
“I was wondering where your truck was. You could’ve called me or B for a ride.”
“I didn’t want to inconvenience you two.” I play with a stray piece of hair. “I know how much you have going on. Between soccer, hockey, swimming, and all the other activities the kids do, you guys are always busy.”
Daphne stays silent for a few moments. “I’ll give this Fernando the benefit of the doubt for now. Just promise me you’ll be careful. Guys have motives. They don’t do favors without wanting something in return.”
“I don’t know, he seemed genuine to me.”
My sister wrinkles her nose. “Just trust me. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. On this, I’ll just have to pretend to agree. “Fine, I’ll be careful.”
“Good. Now about Spain . . .”
Chapter Seven
“Ma’am, I’m sorry to wake you, but I need you to return your seat to its upright position. We’re making our final descent.”
I feel my body being gently shaken. I blink a few times and stare up at a flight attendant in a bright-teal uniform, confusion filling my brain before I realize I’m on my way to Spain. I remember being tired and deciding to rest my eyes for a little bit. The flight is supposed to be about thirteen hours. I’ve never slept that long in my life. But then again, there’s a first time for everything.
“Sure,” I tell her.
She flashes me a tired but grateful smile as I touch the button on the armrest and adjust the seat as the cabin lights flicker on.
Suddenly, the plane gives a violent shudder. Passengers around me yelp. I grip the sides of my seat tightly and swallow hard as my pulse hammers against my chest. A few seconds later, it happens again.
An intercom dings, followed by a man’s voice. “Hi, folks. This is the captain speaking. Apologies about the turbulence, but our radars are showing that it’s going to continue being a bumpy ride until wecan get down on the ground in Denver. I’ve asked our flight attendants to remain seated for the duration of the flight. There is a mechanical issue with the plane that needs to be resolved before we’ll be able to continue on to our final destination. I’m still waiting to hear back from HQ, but it sounds like we may be stuck there overnight. I’ll have more details for you shortly. Thanks for your patience.”
I lean my head against the back of the seat. Denver. Of all the places in the world, it has to be Denver. I’m going on this trip to get away and forget about Dylan. Not to get closer to him.
As the bad weather continues to strike the plane, I wonder if the universe is trying to play a sick cosmic joke on me. The plane shakes a third time. I squeeze my eyes tightly together. The sooner we’re on stable ground, the better.
Except once we land, the situation goes from bad to worse.
First comes the announcement from the flight attendant. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d please gather your belongings and exit the plane, you’ll receive further directions from the Denver gate agents.”
Like a trail of ants invading a picnic, one by one, people retrieve their carry-on bags from the overhead bins and exit the plane a row at a time. The atmosphere is tense and filled with curious whispers and crying babies.
We file into an empty gate area, where there’s a rush to claim seats. It reminds me of a game of musical chairs. I’m too tired to deal with it all and opt to sit on the floor against the wall. It’s what most of the passengers end up doing since there’s about three hundred of us and only a hundred chairs.
From my perch, I watch as about twenty people flock to the lone Pacific Skyways gate agent at the counter, demanding answers to what’s going on. I can’t hear what he’s telling them, but it isn’t hard to read his lips. His supervisor is working on it, and everyone needs to be patient.
An hour passes, and everyone’s energy intensifies. The pilots and flight attendants trickle off the plane, speaking toone another in hushed tones and avoiding eye contact with passengers as they walk quickly toward the terminal’s exit. My heart sinks. They know something is up and don’t want to be here when the bad news breaks.
A half hour after that, three additional gate agents arrive to support the poor man who’s been fielding questions since we landed. That’s when we finally receive the announcement. “Hi, folks, thanks for your patience. If you’re here from Pacific Skyways flight 723 with service to Madrid, we regret to inform you that the flight has been canceled.”
It’s like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over my body. I’m on pins and needles. The gate area is filled with angry shouts and expletives.
“If you’d all form an orderly line, the Pacific Skyways staff will begin the rebooking process and get you on the next available flight to wherever your final destination may be.”
