Sunday. Today. He was leaving today. She could still stop him. He couldn’t go. She loved him. She had to tell him. She wanted to marry him and spend the rest of her life with him.
Forbes. He knew where George was going. Why had she avoided Forbes all week? If she hadn’t given in to embarrassment and shame, she and George could already be back together.
Jumping out of bed, she grabbed the first pair of jeans and T-shirt she could find and combed her hair back into a ponytail as she stepped into an old pair of canvas sneakers.
She ran upstairs and pounded on Jenn’s door. No answer. Down two flights and pounded on Meredith’s door. Same result.
She ran back to her apartment and grabbed her purse, keys, and phone, dialing Forbes’s number as she flew down the stairs.
“Anne?”
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
“What do you mean
She skidded to a stop on the back porch.
Forbes climbed out of his black Jaguar and snapped his phone closed.
She jumped down the steps and grabbed his arms. “Where is he?”
Jenn stuck her head out the back window. “He’s at the airport, Anne.”
Forbes shook his head. “His flight for Memphis left fifteen minutes ago.”
“You have his itinerary?” She snatched the page out of his hand before he had it fully out of his pocket. She looked at her watch. “His flight to Atlanta leaves in three hours. Memphis is a six-hour drive.”
Forbes grabbed her arms. “Anne, there is a way.”
Looking into his steel blue eyes, she saw the answer and started shaking her head. “I can’t.”
“How much do you love him?” His gaze bored into hers.
Her heart raced; her stomach churned. With fear’s cold fingers choking her, she nodded. “I have to go.”
“I’ll call Rafe. He can have the jet ready by the time we get you there.”
“Is that what you’re going to wear?” Meredith slid out through the front passenger window and sat on the frame like the car was the General Lee from
“I—no—I don’t know.”
Forbes squeezed her arms and gently pushed her toward the porch steps. “I’ll call Rafe while you put on a clean shirt and real shoes.”
In less than five minutes, Anne was ready to face a fear even bigger than falling in love.
The last remaining Guidry company jet gleamed in the sun like a sparkling coffin. She was going to plummet to her death. She touched the scar on the side of her neck, the reminder of the last time she’d been on a plane.
George. She had to get to George. If he left, she might never see him again. Swallowing hard, she put her foot on the first step. Then the second. Too soon, she was hunched over, walking into the living room–like seating area.
Forbes sat on the sofa beside her and tightened her seat belt. “Do you want me to come with you?”
She shook her head. “Just tell Rafe to get this flying death trap off the ground before I change my mind.”
He kissed her forehead, said a prayer for her safety, and departed.
Rafe came back and prayed with her, too, then returned to the cockpit.
She didn’t stop sobbing until the plane had been in the air nearly twenty minutes. With all the window blinds closed, she could pretend she was riding in the back of the RV Errol and Maggie had rented that time they took a family trip out to the Grand Canyon. She’d just started to relax when Rafe’s voice came over the intercom to say they were about to land in Memphis.
She pulled her makeup compact out of her purse. There was nothing for it. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose, too.
Throughout the landing, she gripped the edge of the seat and prayed that if God wanted her to come home, He’d let her die upon impact. Then the wheels touched the tarmac, and the small jet coasted into the private plane section of the Memphis airport.
She nearly cried again when she saw the length of the line at the ticket counter. She kept checking her watch. Thirty minutes. Twenty. Fifteen.
Finally, with ten minutes to spare, she got to the front of the line. “I need you to page a passenger who’s on this flight.” She handed the woman George’s itinerary.
The woman looked down at her computer screen and handed the paper back to Anne. “I’m sorry, ma’am, that flight has already boarded and pushed away from the gate. There’s no way to page him.”
No. So close. She’d survived the flight here. She couldn’t lose him now.
“What’s the next available flight to Atlanta?” Rafe asked, grasping Anne by the arm when she wavered, nausea nearly overwhelming her at the thought of boarding another plane.
“We have one that leaves in about thirty minutes. But it’ll take that long to get through security, and if you have any luggage—”
“No luggage.” He slapped his corporate credit card down on the counter. “Get her on that flight. First class.”
Boarding pass in hand, Anne ran behind Rafe through the airport to the security gate. Only a few people milled about in front of her.
“Take your shoes off and put them in the bucket. Put everything in the bucket—cell phone, too.”
She did as told, numb with fear. This time, the fear wasn’t of flying. She was afraid she’d lost her only chance at happiness. If she couldn’t find him in the Atlanta airport…
On the other side of the security gate, she waved at Rafe, slipped her shoes back on, then jogged down the corridor to the appropriate gate. At the desk, the airline employee told her to go ahead and board, as she was one of the last to arrive. She handed the boarding pass to the ticket taker and walked down the long, hollow-sounding hallway. She paused at the gaping door at the end, looking like a mouth ready to devour her, like the great fish in the book of Jonah.
She sank into the plush seat and secured her seat belt.
What was taking so long for the plane to take off?
They shut the door, and the plane rolled away from the building. Then they sat.
Panic rose in her throat with each minute that passed. He had a two-hour layover in Atlanta. But she was already an hour behind him. And she’d heard the Atlanta airport was huge.
Twenty minutes later, the captain came over the intercom, apologized for the delay, and told his staff to prepare for takeoff.
An hour and ten minutes later, she rushed up the Jetway into the bustling metropolis known as an airport. She stopped at the check-in desk and thrust George’s itinerary at the airline worker.
“Can you tell me where this flight takes off from?”
“That’s an international flight.” The woman clicked a couple of color-coded keys at her computer. “That flight leaves from E-11.”
