Page 27 of Holiday Romance
My eyes flick to Andrew to find him staring at me. He’s not moving, he’s barely evenbreathing, a hopeful look on his face that makes my chest hurt.
Ah crap.
“I know it’s a lot, but you’ve got to decide soon,” Gabriela says in my ear. “Plane goes in just under two hours and we’ll need to book you in. Are you still at the airport?”
“Tonight?” Andrew whispers, and I nod jerkily.
“We just left,” I tell her, not able to look away from him. “But we can get back?”
Andrew grins at me and a bizarre kind of disappointment mingles with renewed determination as I pull my gaze away. “Do it,” I say. “Book us in. I’ve got our details on my desktop. The folder’s named—”
“Christmas Flights/Completed,” Gabriela finishes. “Because of course they are.”
“You know my computer password?”
“It’s your sandwich order from that deli down the street,” she says casually as I sputter at this blatant invasion of privacy. “You’re kind of predictable, you know that?”
“Just book us in.”
“Yes ma’am,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “This makes me feel great. This is my good deed for the year.”
“Best person in the whole freaking world,” I agree as Andrew starts texting again, his thumbs flying across the screen. “I’ll let you know when we’re at the airport.”
She bids me a delighted “Bon voyage” as we hang up and I lean forward to the driver.
“I don’t know if you heard that, but—”
“We’re ten minutes away from your destination,” he says, not looking at me.
“Right,” I agree. “But see the thing is, we really need to get back to the airport.”
“And I need to get home,” he says. “I’m finishing up for the night.”
“But I—”
“For the year,” he adds. “My wife bought steaks.”
“Trevor—”
“Big ones.”
I stare at the back of his head as he stares stubbornly in front.
Fine.
Fine!
I grab my purse from the floor of the cab, reaching for the money that was to make up the vast majority of my relatives’ Christmas presents.
“What are you doing?” Andrew whispers.
“Getting you home.” I count what I have before leaning forward again. “I will give you one hundred dollars if you turn this cab around right now.”
Trevor’s eyes snap to mine in the rearview mirror. “Two hundred,” he says when he sees I’m being serious. “Cash.”
Andrew scoffs and I nod.
“Sold.”
