“Where am I now?”
“A-20. If you’re trying to catch that flight, you’ll never make it. Shows here they’re already boarding.”
“Can I have a passenger from that flight paged to come back here?”
“We can try. But if he’s already boarded, they’re not going to let him off the plane, or he can’t get back on.”
“Okay. Page him, please.”
The woman dialed the other gate to have George paged. Anne paced. Other people came to the gate to check in for a flight to Nashville.
Where was he? Which direction would he be coming from?
Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Thirty. Past time for his flight to leave. She returned to the counter. “Did they page him?”
“That flight’s already left, ma’am. The gate agent said no one got off the plane.”
Anne fought tears. He hadn’t gotten off the plane. “Okay. Thanks. How can I purchase a ticket to go home?”
After going through an embarrassing search as she came back through security, Anne found her departure gate and sat facing the windows, watching the planes come and go. He hadn’t gotten off the plane.
Music wafted from a nearby karaoke bar. She grinned ruefully. Dean Martin. Her favorite.
Wait a minute! The man singing “Return to Me” sounded just like Dean—
She shot out of her seat and whirled, looking for the source of the music. An Asian man stood at the microphone crooning the sad ballad.
She felt someone stop behind her. Warm breath tickled her ear as someone whispered the heart-touching lyrics of the song, entreating the man’s beloved to return, to forgive, to say she belongs to him….
Closing her eyes, she turned, not wanting to see if it wasn’t really him.
Warm, strong fingers cupped her chin. She opened her eyes, and tears escaped down her cheeks. George’s warm chocolate gaze melted her lingering fear.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You can’t know how sorry.”
She touched his face, just to make sure he really stood there in front of her. Real tears dampened his real face. A sob caught in her throat as he pulled her into his arms. “They said you didn’t get off the plane.”
“What?”
“When I had them page you earlier. They said no one got off the plane. I thought you were on your way to Paris because you didn’t want to see me.”
His chuckle vibrated in his chest. “Did you ask them to see if I checked in for that flight?”
“No.” She gulped for air. “How did you find me, then?”
“I got here and realized I couldn’t leave. I went downstairs and bought the first available ticket back to Bonneterre—this flight.” He held her at arm’s length. “How did you get here?”
“Rafe took me to Memphis on the company plane. I hoped to catch you there, but your flight had already left.”
“You got on a Learjet and a commercial airliner just to come after me?” Emotion thickened his voice.
She nodded, drinking in the sight of him. She never wanted to be away from him ever again, ever, ever.
“You got on a
Laughter bubbled up through her tears. “Yeah. Two planes.” She held up two fingers.
He kissed her, his tenderness fulfilling her every dream. “Two planes.”
“I had to see you.” She touched his hair. He was grayer now than he’d been when she first met him. “I have a question I wanted to ask you.”
He smiled and pulled her out of the path of onlookers. She hadn’t meant to make a spectacle. She took his proffered handkerchief and dried her tears.
“What question did you want to ask me?”
My, my, but he was smug. “Well, I feel like we have a lot in common, and we obviously work well together.” She grinned. “What I wanted to ask is: Would you consider joining me as an equal partner in Happy Endings, Inc.?”
Smugness deflated into speechless disappointment.
Oh, she couldn’t resist. “I know you’ll have to figure things out legally with your work visa and all.”
He cleared his throat. “I—well, that is to say…”
She pressed one finger to his lips. “Of course, I’ve decided I cannot take on any business partner but my husband. So if you still want to work with me, I guess you’ll just have to marry me.”
He laughed and pulled her close, caressing the back of her head. “I think that’s the best business proposition I’ve ever heard.”
The touch of his lips on hers sent blue sparks through her body. “I love you,” she whispered. “Always, always, always.”
He traced the curve of her jaw with his forefinger, kissed the bridge of her nose, and tucked her back into his arms. “Now that’s what I call a happy ending.”
