“Well, good morning to you too,” Tamera said, though she was smiling as bright as the morning sun. She casually flicked her blonde hair back over her shoulder and jutted out a hip. Adrienne would have to be completely blind not to notice the way Tamera’s legs stuck out of her distressed mini skirt like tanned skyscrapers at sunset.
“I’m really not up for an argument,” Adrienne replied, already stepping back to get the hell out of there. Tamera had made her disdain for Adrienne crystal clear all season, and just because the game was over, it didn’t mean their rivalry was.
“I’m not here to argue,” Tamera said, her tone softer than Adrienne had ever heard it. Was Adrienne wrong? Were they going to prove the viewers wrong and become the unlikely best friends? “But if you are looking for Valerie, she’s not here.” She said it as if it were a fact. Was it a fact? “She left for the airport about thirty minutes ago. I thought you knew.”
“What?” Adrienne gasped. She did not know that. As far as she was concerned, they were all supposed to be shepherded together to the airport where they’d all say their teary goodbyes before boarding the official charter flight. It was part of the mandatory wrap-up schedule. Surely Valerie wasn’t above everyone else. Surely she wasn’t allowed to just vanish.
“Are you okay?” Tamera asked, stepping closer. A soft frown pulled between her eyebrows, and Adrienne could feel the sympathy oozing off her. It was revolting.
Adrienne opened her mouth to snap back something snarky, but the retort died in her throat when she felt something wet slip past her cheek before landing on her lip. Was that a tear? Was she crying? Of course, she was fucking crying. Valerie had left without saying goodbye.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, wiping away the tears with the side of her hand. But she wasn’t fine. She would never be fine again. What would Nicki say if she knew Adrienne had been ghosted by the love of her life? And yes, Valerie was the love of her life. Would she book her a flight to Ibiza and tell her to get over it? “I have to go.”
Adrienne had already walked past Tamera when Tamera said, “You know that part of the movieThe Proposalwhere Andrew rushes to the airport to stop Margaret from getting deported to Canada?”
Adrienne stopped in her tracks. Of course, she knew that scene. Everyone knew that scene. The airport run. The grand romantic gesture. Hollywood had milked that fantasy for decades, and frankly, it worked every time.
“Well, I hope you get there in time.”
Was that Tamera’s way of telling Adrienne that she was actually rooting for her? That behind their rivalry, she wanted Valerie and Adrienne to work just as much as Adrienne did?
Adrienne didn’t stay to find out. Once she’d taken the corner, she started running.
First, she bolted to her bedroom where her Louis Vuitton Keepall was thankfully nearly packed. She grabbed her passport, slipped out of her Prada leather platform sandals that felt like walking on literal clouds, and into her Adidas Samba sneakers, and then headed toward the villa lobby where, by the grace ofOutlast Hergods, she bumped into Elise. After spending two minutes explaining herself, Elise held up her hand. “Go. Now. Tell her how you feel.”
The drive to Mykonos Airport was ten minutes, if not less, but it felt like an agonizing year. What if Valerie had already gotten on the plane and this little excursion was useless? Adrienne’s flight to JFK, with a rushed layover in London, was only at nine pm tonight. She’d planned on spending the day lounging at one of Villa Helios’ pools. And she’d planned on doing it with Valerie by her side. Maybe with a little afternoon delight thrown in.
“We’re here, Ma’am,” the driver said as the car pulled up against the curb. Adrienne didn’t wait for him to open her door. She grabbed her bag and stormed into the airport. Was this how Andrew Paxton felt as he sprinted through the terminal? Was Adrienne going to get there too late? But instead of booking a flight and catching Margaret at her New York office like Andrew had done, Adrienne would decide it would be too much trouble to run after someone who clearly didn’t even want anything to do with her. If Valerie had actual feelings for Adrienne, she never would’ve left in the first place.
Shit!
Adrienne slammed her foot directly into a heavy, floral-printed rolling suitcase pulled by an older woman with a towering silver perm. The lady let out an outraged wheeze just as her neck pillow went spinning to the floor. Then, in almost the same breath, Adrienne had to sidestep a young mother juggling a takeaway coffee and a screaming toddler on her hip. The mother hissed a furious “Watch it!” as Adrienne clipped her arm with her Keepall, nearly sending the caffeinated drink flying through the air.
“Sorry,” Adrienne mumbled out a breathless apology, already five steps ahead. But she couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. Not until...
There, at the counter a mere ten yards away, Adrienne spotted a woman with dark brown hair carrying a lilac backpack over her shoulder. From the top zipper hung a silver salmon charm and a metal tag that read Sitka. How many brunettes carrying a Sitka charm could possibly be at this airport?
Adrienne’s chest unclenched. It felt like she’d finally broken the surface from deep water. Her lungs flooded with sweet, warm, delicious relief. She paused, just long enough to smooth back the strands of hair that had matted against her sweating neck, then picked up speed again. Abandoning all sense of airport etiquette, Adrienne pushed past the line of people waiting, ignoring their annoyed grunts and exasperated gasps, until she got to the desk.
“Make that two tickets to Alaska,” Adrienne panted, slamming her palms flat on the counter. She had no idea if Valerie was even traveling to Alaska. But it didn’t matter. This was her grand romantic gesture.
“Adrienne,” Valerie gasped, looking at her as if she were Gandhi resurrected. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Adrienne drew in a breath to calm her hammering heart and said, “Well, if I’m going to live there, I suppose I should actually visit the town first, shouldn’t I?” She held out her palm for a ticket but the lady at the counter, whose eyebrows were plucked thinner than a pencil line, pulled her lips tight. “This is the check-in, Ma’am. If you want to buy a flight ticket, you’ll have to go to the ticketing office.”
Adrienne blinked. What?
The truth was, she had absolutely no idea how to actually buy a flight on the spot. If she wasn’t taking her parents’ Gulfstream G650 across the world, she usually paid Roderick,her personal travel agent, to book all her trips. If she suddenly felt like arriving in Paris the next morning, Roderick would sell his own kidney to secure her first-class seat. Dealing with airport logistics like a regular person wasn’t something she’d ever had to worry about.
“Okay,” Adrienne said, dropping her hand to the counter. Under normal circumstances she would’ve been mortified, but the adrenaline still pumping through her veins drowned out the shame. “I guess—”
Valerie grabbed Adrienne by the elbow and pulled her out of the check-in line toward a row of empty plastic seats. “What do you mean you’re going to live in Sitka?” she asked, turning toward Adrienne. Her sea-glass green eyes looked stormier than they ever had before.
Wasn’t it obvious? Adrienne was declaring her love for Valerie.
“I’m prepared to move to Sitka for you,” Adrienne said. Had she really just said that? Would Adrienne survive the average eighty-five inches of rain a year, winter temperatures that hovered at freezing, and December daylight that barely lasted seven hours?
“I’m not asking you to do that,” Valerie said. “You’ll hate Sitka. Within twenty minutes of being there, you’ll complain about the air being too humid. There are no five-star hotels or fancy rooftop restaurants, or vitamin bars. We have local pubs where the décor is taxidermy and flannel, and our beaches are covered in black volcanic sand. The water is freezing. It’s an island town of eight thousand people. You’d lose your mind.”
