Page 8 of Mine This Time
At least I had a return ticket home. The sooner this stupid “getaway” ended, the better.
“Excuse me?” I asked, trying to quell the sinking feeling in my stomach.
The contrast of the humid Louisiana heat to the cold air conditioning inside the airport only served to amp up how unsettled I felt. My encounter with Nash had gotten me hot and bothered. I’d already been hot and sticky, and then I came in here to the blast of icy air, and my sweat dried on my skin almost instantly.
Now, my hands were shaking, and my fingertips were tingling from the cold. The woman clicked a key on her keyboard before looking up at me. “Your return ticket was refunded to the purchaser,” she said.
I opened my mouth to reply but snapped it shut. I was afraid I might scream. I fumbled for my purse and yanked out my wallet. Looking up, I passed over my credit card. “I just need a ticket back to San Francisco. I’m hoping I can make my originally scheduled flight.” I was kind of amazed I managed to speak, but I pulled it off without screaming.
“Let me see what I can do.” The woman swiped my card through and handed it back across the counter as she kept her eyes on her computer screen. When she looked back up, I knew the news wasn’t good.
“The credit card was denied,” she said carefully, keeping her tone low enough that the people around us couldn’t hear. Her chocolate brown eyes met mine, and her smile was warm as she looked across the desk at me. “Go right ahead and swear, darling. You look like you’ve had a rough day.”
Tears stung hot at the backs of my eyes. I didn’t realize one had escaped until she handed me a tissue, passing it across the counter without a word. I dabbed at my eyes, focusing on her name tag. “Thank you, Caroline.”
“You’re most welcome. I’m guessing you didn’t know your credit card was maxed out.”
I straightened my shoulders and shook my head with the ghost of a bitter smile twisting my lips. “Most definitely not. It was my fucking asshole of an ex-boyfriend.”
“Well, I suppose the upside is he’s your past, not your future,” Caroline said.
“Oh, he’s the past, all right. I guess I should get out of the line. I’m sorry for taking extra time,” I muttered, managing a shaky breath.
“You’re just fine. We can stand here and talk until you calm down. The world is not going to end if people need to wait a few minutes. There are two other lines,” Caroline said matter-of-factly.
“Thank you,” I whispered, sniffling after I took a deeper breath. This time I got enough air into my lungs to soothe my jangled nerves.
I carefully blew my nose. Without me asking, Caroline passed over another tissue and lifted a small wastebasket from under the counter. I tossed in the used tissue and straightened my shoulders in between several slow breaths. She tucked the wastebasket back under the counter and tapped her keyboard as if she was doing something. I knew she was simply giving me a few minutes to pull it together. I resisted the urge to apologize again. Her small kindness was a balm to my rattled state.
“New Orleans is a nice place,” Caroline said softly. “There could be worse places to be stuck. Get your bearings and figure out what you need to do. I don’t know you well, but you seem like a nice woman. Any man that would do this to you is an idiot.”
“Most definitely,” I replied.
Caroline tapped a few keys on her keyboard, giving me another moment. This brief interaction helped me brace myself.
“Thank you. I needed this,” I finally said.
“Just make sure to take care of yourself,” she said as I turned away.
I balled the soft tissue in one hand as I wheeled my broken suitcase behind me. It occurred to me that Caroline, a complete stranger, was the second person in the last few days to refer to Brett as an idiot. He sure as hell was. I supposed the only upside to this fiasco was at least now I knew he wasn’t worth my time.
I wished I’d had a clear picture of who he was before I hopped on a plane to New Orleans. It had been three months since we’d even been intimate, and we’d managed only a few dates in that time. I was confused as to why he even wanted me to come on this trip. I wondered if he thought somehow my connection to Max would’ve perhaps smoothed some introductions for him.
Whatever. The second my thoughts turned to my brother, I realized he was probably my only parachute out of this situation—unless I intended to stay in New Orleans.
The only other alternative I could consider was applying for yet another credit card online and running up a bill to find somewhere to stay. Between blowing up all of my credit cards, Brett had also screwed me over on my lease in San Francisco. He’d known I was moving in two weeks and had contacted the landlord to tell her I’d changed my mind because we were moving in together. He’d finagled to get the deposit refunded to him.
The only reason he’d pulled that off was because months ago, he’d given me the name of his contact at the building, so he knew precisely who to call and bullshit. In the last few days of frantic phone calls since Brett had disappeared, I’d spoken to the property manager. She’d been horrified to learn Brett didn’t have any claim to my deposit. That didn’t change the fact that my money was still gone. I knew I had the option of taking legal action, but nothing would happen fast enough to help me now.
No matter what, I had to make a quick decision. Of course, I didn’t need to do something impulsive, especially involving money.
With my polite face firmly in place, I stepped back out into the sweltering heat and promptly collided with someone. “Oh! I’m so sorry,” I said as my eyes swung up.
Before my gaze even made it to his face, I knew I had run straight into Nash Reynolds. What was it with me encountering him when my pride was so shredded? To be fair, the first time I met him, I’d sought him out.
Nash’s eyes swept over my face. “What brings you back out of the airport, Mari?” he asked, his tone measured.
Considering that he already knew the outlines of what an idiot Brett was, I figured I might as well not bother being polite. “Apparently, Brett got us refundable tickets. He canceled mine to get the refund,” I explained, my tone sharp.
