From here on out, all I needed was beer, a campfire, and my buds. If I could just figure out something meaningful to do with my life, I’d be set.
I turned the opposite direction to head toward the airport. Hopefully, Nora Atwood was still into dirt and grime because I smelled exactly like someone should after living outside for a week with no access to a shower.
I turned up my favorite alternative rock station and tried to picture Nora Atwood all grown up. In my mind, she definitely wore a tiara and a poufy dress covered in dirt. Long black hair, rosy cheeks. She always had that deer in the headlights look that was cute when she was ten, but as a woman? Not so sure that worked.
Tapping my fingers to the beat, I fought a smile as I remembered the time Nora brought a real ass frog to the dinner table at her parent’s estate. Gilly screamed bloody murder, and it was absolute chaos. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad. It’d be a trip down memory lane. Back to the days before I realized that having a trust fund meant someonealwayswanted a piece of me.
An hour later, irritation prickled down my spine to the point I thought about leaving delicate Nora to her own devices. There were no more scheduled arrivals for the morning, and throngs of people had already left the airport and driven away. What the hell could she be doing?
I ran a hand over my face, giving myself a once-over. My jeans were filthy, my plaid shirt covered in dirt, and while I gave my sister shit for her vanity, I wasn’t much better. Presentation was everything, and while I didn’t expect to come straight from camping, smelling like a pinecone, looking like roadkill wasn’t exactly my thing. I grabbed an old baseball hat, put it on backward to hide my unruly hair, and got out of the car and made my way into the airport. Then I waited. And waited. And waited some more. Maybe there was a line for the bathroom, or she fell, or…
There she was.
Nora Atwood had a certain air about her that screamed untouchable, and holy shit. I had to cover my mouth to not laugh. She seemeddifferent. Bracelets covered both her wrists in every color imaginable. Her once-long black hair was short…the kind of short only achieved by a set of clippers, and it had hot pink tips at the end, which clashed with her dark-green oversize T-shirt that made it look like she wasn’t wearing shorts. Which she had to be. My smile shifted into a frown as I approached her. She blinked large brown eyes rimmed with long lashes rapidly as she stared at the lobby with a blank look in her eyes, her arms crossed tight across her chest and a goofy backpack hanging off her shoulder. She reminded me of those goddamn influencers on social media, but my annoyance evaporated when she bit her bottom lip and had tears in her eyes.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. She appeared worried and afraid.Delicate,my mom had said. I took another few steps toward her and raised a hand. “Hey.”
Her gaze darted to me, and she took a step back. “I’m fine.”
“Are you?” I tilted my head and tried not to take offense that she literally took two large steps away from me. Must be the smell, or the beard. “You waiting for your luggage?”
“It comes through that thing, right? Is there a person in there?” she asked, jutting her chin toward the belt with the same expression I would’ve had in a makeup store. Like she didn’t have a damn clue what was going on.
“Yes.”Don’t laugh.“I’ll help you. Just tell me when you see your bag.”
“I have five.”
“Right.” I forced a polite smile. A few bags came through, but Nora remained quiet. The belt went all the way through, and at least five minutes went by without her saying a word. She clutched her stainless-steel water bottle with a million stickers tight and kept glancing at the exit. “See them?”
“Oh, is my ride here? Gosh, I’d love to see a familiar face. They’ll have someone who can help me with all this…traveling stuff.”
I coughed to cover the urge to laugh in her face. “I meant your luggage.” Good god.
“Oh, no.” She frowned again and got out her phone. “I’m waiting for someone. I should wait outside, right?”
“The Carters?”
The second my words hit her, relief flooded her face, and she smiled so wide, it caught me off guard. “Yes! Did they send you? Oh! Are you my ride? Thank goodness. I just…okay. I assumed they would pick me up, but this works.” Her entire body relaxed, and for the life of me, I just nodded.
She didn’t recognize me. Hell, I couldn’t blame her. My beard had grown out, and I was caring less and less that it resembled a small beaver. I jutted my chin toward the belt, and the same lost and worried look returned.
“My bags aren’t here.”
“They can get lost sometimes. Rare, but it can happen. We need to go to customer service.”
“Lost?”
“Yup. Someone could’ve put them on the wrong flight. Usually takes a few days, but they’ll turn up.”
“Days?” she said, her voice so high I flinched. “I can’t go days. My stuff. My things. My materials! This is unacceptable. How does one mix up bags?”
“Ms. Atwood, it can happen. We’ll just—”
“Absurd.” She shook her head violently, and her cheeks turned a bright pink, almost the same shade as her hair. “I will not stand for this. My items are there. My gloves, my books, my notes.No.”
Nora stomped her foot before marching over to a small café and demanding to talk to the person in charge. It was almost comical to see her yell at the poor barista, but I had to be the better person. “Nora, that is not customer service. You need the airline counter.”
She turned on her heel without missing a beat and headed in the direction I’d pointed my finger. At the airline counter, she rambled about all the things she desperately needed.
