Page 29 of Holiday Romance
“I swear, Molly. I’m looking at the website right now.”
“Read out the flight number.”
“It’s definitely going,” she insists. “Delta DL676. Chicago Midway to—”
“Midway?” I screech the word so loud that a baby nearby bursts into tears. “We’re at O’Hare!”
There’s a long pause on the other end of line. “Oh.”
I deflate instantly, my adrenaline spike crashing as I turn fully away from Andrew. I can’t even bear to look at him.
“I should have checked,” Gabriela says, sounding miserable.
“Ishould have told you,” I say quickly. “This isn’t on you.”
“Let me keep looking.”
“Gab—”
“There’s got to be something. If not tonight then in the morning.” She keeps talking, but at a tug on my coat, I twist around to a grim-looking Andrew.
“I’ll call you back,” I say, when he motions for me to hang up. “She’s going to see if we can—”
“How long do we have before the gate closes?” he interrupts, and I check the time on my phone.
“An hour, but…” I trail off, realizing what he means. “That’s not enough time.”
“It might be. It’s what? Forty minutes to Midway?”
“Not in this traffic. And even if it’s delayed, there’s security and luggage and—”
“I’m not saying we wouldn’t need a bit of a miracle,” he says. “But we could try. I’ve got to try.”
I don’t want to. Ireallydon’t want to. It was stressful enough getting back here, I don’t want to rush across the city just so we can prolong our disappointment.
But he’s looking back at me with those goddamn puppy dog eyes and his hair is all mussed up from where he’s been pulling at it and I’m reminded of every single time he’s lit up at the mere mention of his family.
When this man became my weakness, I do not know. But tonight, it’s like he’s got me wrapped around his little finger.
I take a breath, hand clenching around the handle of my suitcase as I already regret my decision. “Okay,” I say. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SIX
It’s travel chaos outside the airport, with people still arriving for canceled flights. The confusion and frustration in the air is palpable and it doesn’t help that the line for cabs is several people deep. Andrew and I don’t even bother to join it, both of us glancing about as though for a miracle.
“Will we do that thing where we just shove in front of someone?” I ask, watching a woman climb into a taxi. “Like in the movies?”
Andrew grimaces but doesn’t say no and that’s when I spot a semi-familiar face walk past us with his cap down low.
“Trevor?”
Our driver glances back automatically at his name, scowling suspiciously when he sees me. “Thought you had a plane to catch?”
“I did. We do! You’re still here?” I follow him as he turns away, almost tripping in my haste.
“Just had to use the men’s room.”
“Needs must!” I chime in a cheerful voice I don’t recognize. “And what an incredible stroke of luck for us,” I add. “Because as it turns out we’ve gone to the wrong airport and we’ll be needing your services again.”
