Page 2 of Finding Finn
Well, there was no backing out now. Supposedly, someone was coming to pick me up. I opened my phone and double-checked the information. Jim James, well, that was truly unfortunate. His parents must have really hated him when he was born. He must have been in an accident. He’s meeting me at baggage claim and will drive me to my new house.
Jim was the technical director at the Playhouse. He was one of only three people who worked there full time. The other was an office person named Buffy. Both of them had been at the Playhouse for a while, or so I was told. I really hoped that we’d get along and they could show me the ropes – maybe actually teach me how to do this fucking thing.
I was so going to fail.
Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch, turn, turn, out, in, jump, step, fucking pas de bourree.
The dancer’s motto: when in doubt, kick and shout. I would probably be doing a lot of shouting.
The plane landed, and we skidded to a stop that made me say a quick prayer to a god I rarely spoke to. It scared the shit out of me and made me rethink ever flying into this airport again. I wanted to slap the pilot, but I’d settle for a stewardess on the way out. My heart raced as we taxied to the gate.
“Sorry, everyone. That was a little windier than expected, but we’ve landed safely and will be at the gate in just a few minutes. Please keep your seatbelts fastened until the light goes off, and thank you for flying Paramount Air.” The pilot's country voice was barely audible over the gasps of the passengers.
“That seems unlikely,” I murmured as I unplugged my charger and rolled it up before placing it in my carry-on bag that I pulled from beneath the seat. I clutched it tightly. Maybe this guy didn’t know how to park a plane. It would be the last time I chose an airline because it was cheap. The watered-down drink they gave me was pathetic.
We only waited a few minutes before we were allowed off the plane. As soon as the seatbelt sign went away, everyone stood quickly and began grabbing their bags from the overhead bins. Myself included. I wanted off this plane even if I was nervous about what awaited me down in baggage.
Jesus. Why did I think this was a great idea? Small town – gay man – rarely a good thing.
I waited for my turn and soon it was my turn to walk down the thin aisle. I shot the pilot a quick glare as I walked past. He was hotter than expected – figures.
I made my way through the smallish airport and within a few minutes I stood in baggage with my small bag and looked around for Jim. I had no idea what he looked like, and therewere quite a few people standing around. Well, he’d have to find me, I guess. I had sent in an eight-by-ten headshot when I applied for the job, so hopefully someone showed him what I looked like.
I waited for what felt like forever, but it was probably only five minutes. I had this sinking feeling in my stomach that was trying to tell me to get back on the plane and go back to New York, where I belonged. Before I could chicken out, the buzzer from the baggage claim went off and luggage started sliding down onto the conveyor belt, which ran with a deafening roar. My two bags, pink with purple polka dots, slid down the slide and made their way to me. I grabbed them and moved out of the way.
I pulled them over to the large window near one of the sliding doors and waited.
I waited for ten minutes, and a young lady walked through the doors as if she were being chased and looked around. Her eyes settled on me, and a smile lit up her face. She was adorable with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a fabulous hourglass figure. She’d look marvelous in a tight black dress with some fuck me pumps on those feet instead of the tennis shoes she was wearing.
“Finn?” She walked up to me. “Sorry, traffic was a little worse than I thought. Did you have a nice flight?”
“It was fine,” I lied.Try to be positive, I reminded myself. First impressions and all.
“Oh!” She giggled happily. “I’m Buffy, your administrative assistant. I’m so excited to meet you.”
“You’re Buffy?” I scrunched my face up. “You’re not quite what I was expecting.”
Her face fell.
“I mean, I thought you were going to be like fifty,” I laughed. “I have no idea why. Actually, I was told that you’ve been at the theatre for almost twenty years, so… older, I guess. It’s so nice tomeet you, too. Sorry, I’m discombobulated from travel. It always wears me out.”
“Ok. I have been at the playhouse for twenty years, but only five as the admin assistant. I grew up in the playhouse and have been involved since I was eight. I got out of college and had no idea what I wanted to do, and the job came open.”
“You got a degree in theatre?”
“Oh, God, no.” She reached out and grabbed the handle of one of my bags. “Let me help you with these. No, I have a degree in business. But I’m glad I’m where I am instead of some high-rise in a big city, you know?”
“You are adorable. Please be my friend. I know no one.”
“Honey, this is a small town. You’ll know everyone by next week. Trust me.” She giggled as she turned and started walking. “My truck’s not far away and we can put these in the back.”
Of course, she drove a truck. She didn’t actually look like the type, though. I wanted to say no. I didn’t want my nice luggage to get all scratched up in the back of her pickup, but I didn’t want to come across like an asshole either.
I shouldn't have worried. Her cherry red truck was very nice, and she slid my luggage into a compartment that she had in the back.
“Nice truck,” I grinned as I slid up into the passenger seat.
“Her name's Bernadette Peters. She’s a ginger and a princess.”
