Her eyebrows pinch together and she chews on her bottom lip. “I could lose my job for this.”
What is she going to do… make the poor woman hobble back out here? Abandon this long line of people and take it there herself? No. Neither option is worth it.
“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.” I wink at her.
Her gaze drags down my face to my outstretched ticket, hiding her blush. “Thanks. Looks like you’re in row two. Window seat.” Her fake eyelashes flutter up and down.
I nod, needing to tug the two tickets out of her hand to get her to let them go. I feed Dolores’s straw tote over the handle of her dilapidated suitcase and lift it off the ground.
The walkway is already empty by the time I board, and I glance over my shoulder one last time but still don’t see my dad.
I hope he misses thisflight.
I’m met with the stuffy smell of recycled air as I cross the plane’s threshold and exchange a greeting with the flight attendant manning the door. When I turn the corner, I find Dolores, fixed in the middle of the aisle. The poor woman slides on spectacles that hang around her neck by a strand of glass beads and scours the floor.
“It’s got to be here somewhere,” she mumbles to herself, trying her best to rotate clockwise in the cramped space.
I squeeze down the aisle with her straw bag slung at my side—a terrible decision as it clunks into a sweater-covered shoulder on my left.
“I’m so sorry,” I say to the passenger—a woman whose face is hidden by a layer of brunette bangs. She’s distracted by her phone, and I’m past her before she ever meets my eyes, holding out the boarding pass beneath Dolores’s glasses.
“Looking for this?”
CHAPTER THREE
HAILEY
It takes a full-on elbow hit to drag my attention away from the unopened text on my screen. That’s what I get for booking this flight last night and getting stuck with an aisle seat. I never fly.
Travel has not been on my list of to-dos the last few years, unlike being close to home.
Even on my best day here, McCall, with its small-town cozy cabins and endless blue sky, is always on the forefront of my mind.
But who am I kidding. The landscape has nothing to do with why I quit my job on a whim this week. An EMT position opened up on Iron Summit, and I put in my notice with the University of Utah Hospital before even applying for the position.
Whodoesthat? Someone desperate enough, I guess.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’m moving back there to be close tohim. And I’m sure that overstuffed bag from the aisle won’t be my last wakeup call reminding me how pathetic it is to leave everything at the drop of a hat for someone who doesn’t want me around.
A frustrated huff echoes behind me, and I abandon my phone in my lap to see what all the fuss is about. A man with carry-ons stacked on his forearms like bracelets towers over a senior lady with a petite frame. His right arm locks at the elbow as he extends a flimsy piece of paper in front of her face.
“There it is!” she exclaims, grabbing it by the corner. It shakes beneath her unsteady fingertips as she studies it inches from her nose.
“Oh, for cripes’ sake,” she complains, moving it back and forth like it’s under the seat of a microscope. “Do they always use twelve-point font on these things?”
He cranes his neck, surveying the rows of seats near the front of the plane, and I sink a little lower.
The sight of…somethingcauses him to smirk, and a dimple the size of a crater sinks into his right cheek. My heart dips at the sight. He is window-display good-looking. In fact, I bet he’s modeled for a Lululemon swim line with a tan like that.
“Good news!” he exclaims. “You’re in row two!”
The lady studies her ticket with a confused stare. “Isn’t that first class? I can’t afford to be in the front.”
“Well…” He lifts her off the ground like a statue and pivots her 180 degrees, bags tilt-a-whirling at his sides. He ushers her along in an impatient push. “It looks like today is your lucky day.”
Why is this guy in such a hurry? In fact, his eyes are flitting around the cabin in the world’s most nervous dance. I’ve memorized this look. It’s the same one every first date I’ve ever been on gives right after they feed me the famous line. The one about how their dog’s been stuck inside their apartment all day and needs a bathroom break. They scan the restaurant, flagging the nearest waiter for the check. Then they hightail it home to troll their dating apps in search of a person who will actually put out in the same evening. Yep, that’s the one.
I, on the other hand, take things slow. And I won’t apologize for it. Too many shady characters out there, and this guy is giving that vibe. I bet he’s been on the giving end of enough one-night stands to sink a ship.
