With only carry-on items, they’d be able to bypass the checked-baggage counter and head straight for security. It felt strange to be traveling without her gear bag, which she always had to check because even training weapons weren’t permitted in carry-on bags and most of her flying experience involved going to tournaments. “Thank you,” she said to the driver. “You can let your other passenger out now.” She stood back, watching. A test, of sorts.
He emerged from the limo in a smooth motion, looking practiced and confident, as though the whole world was his stage. It didn’t matter that his audience was a handful of travelers who’d stopped to gawk at the size of the limo, not knowing who was in it. He doled out winks, waves, and nods of acknowledgment to anyone who made eye contact, all with that flirty, dirty grin of his — then he checked himself and turned to the chauffeur for a moment, saying, “Thanks very much, man. You want an autograph or selfie, now’s the time to ask.”
“We’re not supposed to, sir,” the uniformed man began, then paused and dug his phone out of a pocket, “but I’d love to get a picture to show my girl.” So Easy leaned in for a photo moment before turning his attention to Nell.
“You’re pushing the cart,” she said. “I want both my hands free, just in case.”
She positioned herself on his right, half a pace ahead of him — not enough to be obvious but enough to have a good view of anything approaching his left side — and stuck there through security and all the way to their gate. Nothing happened. Sure, a few people did double-takes as they passed, pointed their phone cameras in his direction or elbowed a companion with a look over there expression, but there was no threat. No one even approached.
Eamonn turned to her as they boarded the plane. “I guess I didn’t need to worry about needing a bodyguard,” he said with a shrug, and a hint of a blush colored his cheekbones. “Airports seemed to generate more of a fuss… before. Maybe I’m just washed up.”
“Always better to be safe,” Nell assured him. “And there were plenty of people eyeballing you and sneaking photos; you can still draw a crowd. They just had the good sense not to get too close to me.” You move like you’re going to take people apart if they look at you wrong, Amy had said, and Nell wasn’t going to let that sting. So what if I do? She was here, wasn’t she, boarding a first-class flight with an actual rock star?
“Excuse me, sir, you can’t bring your instrument on board, you’re going to have to — oh!” The flight attendant at the door of the plane blinked as she got a good look at Eamonn’s face, then double-checked his boarding pass. “Er, Mr… Yarrow, that’s one of your concert basses, I guess?” She looked flustered. Her nametag said Pam.
“Sure is. This one’s my favorite, my blue Warwick. Not going in the cargo hold, sorry. They told me the crew would find somewhere safe for it.”
Pam turned pink and nodded. “Of course. Our pleasure. I can put it in the coat closet for you, sir.” She held out her hands to take the guitar case, which had clearly risen in status with her recognition of its owner.
He gave her a dazzling smile, Easy the rock god at his very best. “Thank you, darling. And you don’t need to be formal — call me Easy.”
With an impressed “Wow! Thank you!” Pam carried the precious instrument away, leaving Eamonn and Nell to find their seats; the first-class recliners seemed huge compared to the economy seating Nell was used to. Maybe it’s not so terrible to be taking a break from training for a few days. For years, all her travel had been to tournaments and seminars, never a real vacation.
Pam came over to offer them pre-takeoff beverages, so Nell shortly found herself sipping a mimosa in comfort while the economy passengers boarded. “Sláinte,” Eamonn said and clinked his glass against hers. “Time to enjoy your vacation.” He looked a little grim and downed his drink too fast. Worrying about what’s waiting for him at the end of the flight, Nell thought, but didn’t say anything. Apologizing for a wrong done to someone wasn’t easy, and no words could lighten that load for him.
When their flight landed in Sacramento, Pam came over to them while the plane was still taxiing; she offered snacks and more drinks to soften the inconvenience as she asked them to stay in their seats while the other passengers disembarked.
“Something wrong?” Eamonn asked.
The flight attendant gave them a big everything’s fine smile. “Your security escort is on the way to the gate and should be ready for you in, like, two minutes. Do you have a car service booked, or is someone meeting you?”
Nell glanced over at Eamonn, who had a quizzical expression on his face, one eyebrow cocked. “Car service, but… I didn’t arrange for any security escort,” he said.
“There’s a little media cluster gathered in arrivals and the airport has reason to believe they’re waiting for you. So, a complimentary VIP escort is being arranged — I swear it will only be a couple of minutes.”
“See?” Nell said once Pam had moved away. “You’re still famous.”
He gave her a look of pity for her ignorance and slumped against the back of his seat, resigned to waiting. “They’re just looking for dirt. Guess I’m going to give it to them.”
“Well, what are you supposed to do in this sort of situation?”
“Kin always said — he’s this music-industry public relations guy we had around — he always said to just smile and wave and keep walking, keep moving, and if you have to give ’em unprepared sound bites, make it two words: great night, thank you,
