Page 45 of Bride Games

45

Paige

I can’t wait to surprise Zach at the football game. Hopefully, he won’t be upset. Besides, this will satisfy me that he and Marie Fallon are truly just colleagues and nothing more. Paige sipped her morning coffee while she studied her closet, deciding on a sexy red dress and zebra print heels to wear after the game in case they went to dinner. She donned a purple turtleneck sweater and oversized gold hoop earrings to blend in with the Vikings crowd. As she pulled on black jeans and boots, Paige noticed a big black floppy hat on the top shelf of her closet. She reached for the hat to disguise herself in the stands. Glancing around her bedroom and bathroom for last-minute items, she stuffed PJs—which she might or might not need—her phone charger, toiletries, and a change of clothes for the following day. Since she was now the “boss” at ATV 10 she could arrive to work whenever she wanted. Paige made a mental note to call her assistant and cancel all of her Monday meetings. A smile spread across her face. Maybe if things go well with Zach, I’ll ask my assistant to cancel Tuesday’s meetings as well.

Paige dumped the coffee remains down the sink and started the dishwasher. She reached for her laptop, a book, her purse, and oversized black sunglasses. No one can recognize me. The last thing I want is to be recognized and booed at the game. Shuddering at the thought, Paige locked the door and started her car.

The first flight was on time and smooth. Paige’s pulse raced at the thought of surprising Zach. She strolled through the airport of the connecting flight but stiffened when she noticed an unusually large crowd staring at their phones and grumbling. Many long-faced passengers stared at the American Airlines flight schedule. Paige’s face clouded when she noted cancellation after cancellation on the screen. After she went to the restroom, she received an alert on her phone and nearly jumped up and down with glee. My flight’s apparently the only one that’s on time and departing. Paige swiftly made her way to the gate, took a seat, and opened a novel. A few pages in, she realized the book was a thriller about a plane crash. My God. I hope this isn’t an omen.

She winced but tried to concentrate while at the same time pushing aside doubts that Zach wouldn’t be happy to see her. I hope this isn’t a mistake. Paige read several pages but stopped when she heard angry murmurs from nearby passengers. She peered up at the sign behind the ticket agents and saw FLIGHT CANCELED in large letters.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Paige said aloud to strangers who nodded miserably. “Yep,” said a young guy who added, “I’m going to the bar.” A younger woman broke down in tears saying she was on her way to a class reunion, while an older couple stood in the center of the room staring at the sign as if it were written in Latin or Chinese, or maybe even shorthand.

Paige wanted to help them all, especially the older couple, but she had to get to that game. She asked an airport employee where customer service was located and made her way to Gate 38. As she approached, she groaned when she saw lines of people snaked around the customer service desk, which happened to be located near a bar. Paige really, really wanted to skip the line and go straight to the bar, but she was on a mission.

She stared at her cellphone to see if there were any updates on her flight. Nada. She stood in the line which moved like molasses through an IV. Paige’s heart hammered. She considered chartering a plane and charging it to the station. Of course, the accountants would notice a twenty-or thirty-thousand-dollar charge immediately, call me, or worse, call Mr. Hales, and my covert mission would be blown. She sighed. Better to stand in this Godforsaken line.

Paige checked her watch. Thank goodness this is an evening game or I’d never make it. When a third airline employee sat on a stool behind the counter and began typing on a computer, the juggernaut finally broke. Paige was one person away from the counter. Come on. Come on. Naturally, she was behind an international traveler who had twenty questions as if he were performing on Jeopardy . Sweet Jesus.

“Next!”

Paige stepped up to the desk and talked fast as if that would get her on an airplane sooner. “Hi, my flight was canceled. I must get to my destination tonight.” She paused. “It’s work related.”

The employee asked for her first name: “Paige.” The woman tapped so many keys Paige might as well have said, “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” Paige chuckled at the ridiculousness.

“Last name?”

Paige heard a male say, “Daniels” and swung around to lock eyes with her former fiancé, Trent, who stood two inches, if that, behind her. She could barely control her disdain. “What are you doing here?”

A wry smile spread across Trent’s face. “Standing in the customer service line, obviously. Same as you. Good to see you, Paige. Really good.”

“Hey, buddy,” Another male passenger shouted. “If you two are just chatting, mind if the rest of us take your place in line? Some of us aren’t here to score. We actually want to fly somewhere.”

Paige narrowed her eyes and stared the man down. “I can assure you I’m not here to score—not with him, anyway.”

“Ow,” Trent said. “You used to love to score with me. We were quite good at scoring, actually.”

A younger, impatient man in a pin-striped suit stepped up to the counter. “Since these two lovebirds aren’t concerned about their flights, will you help me? I have a keynote speech to present.”

Clearing her throat, Paige glared at both men. She pointed with her index finger and raised her voice. “Please step back. I was here first. This is my counter for the next however many minutes it takes this-this airline employee to type out my destination, flight number, blood type, favorite hair product, or whatever the hell she needs to get me in the freaking air.” Paige caught the worker’s scowl. “Sorry. Please help me get to Minneapolis today. It’s important.”

The employee typed two dozen more keys, frowning with each stroke. “Sorry, ma’am. Every plane is down. Canceled.”

Paige’s mouth dropped open. “How is that possible?”

The employee shrugged. “It appears that every plane either has a mechanical, the crew is late, or there’s bad weather.” She glanced up from her computer screen and smiled. “Would you like a flight tomorrow morning? I can offer a voucher for a ho?—”

Paige felt her face get hot. “No, I would not like a flight tomorrow morning. The game is tonight. I need to get to the football game.”

“Bet you want to see Zachy-boy.” Trent’s voice was like honey-laced acid.

Paige grimaced at the pet name her former fiancé had given her coworker-turned-boyfriend. Scowling, she faced Trent. “You know his name is Zach. Grow up, Trent.”

The other guy piped up again. “Here we go again with the chitchat.” He sighed heavily as though he had been standing in line since the earth was formed.

“Be quiet, both of you. I’m trying to get out of here.” Paige watched as the employee clicked on several screens but shook her head.

“Sorry, ma’am. You aren’t going to Minnesota tonight.”

“Shit. I guess I just took a joy ride via plane. This is absurd. Of all the planes owned by this airline, there aren’t any available? Are you sure?”

“Positive.” The employee peered at the ever-growing line of people forming behind Paige. “I need a decision. Would you like a hotel voucher for tonight to fly to your destination in the morning?”

“Terrific. Just perfect,” Paige muttered as Trent said, “She’ll take the hotel voucher and morning flight, and so will I.” His voice softened as he placed his hand over hers. “Please let me buy you a drink. For old time’s sake. We would have been married by now, you know.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the man behind Paige said. “Will you two get a fucking hotel room and let me get to the fucking counter?”

The airline employee snickered as Paige weighed her options. She could use a glass of wine. Just one. And then she could go to her hotel room—alone—and watch the game at least. Not all would be lost. Maybe she did owe it to Trent to hear him out after their awful breakup last year, which was crazily in an airport parking lot. Maybe this is some higher power telling me I didn’t handle our breakup convo well.

Paige addressed the attendant. “I’ll take a morning flight. Not first thing in the morning. Mid-morning. I’m not that eager to get back to work.”

Trent stayed planted in place. “Please book me on the same flight tomorrow morning. We’re from the same town. Actually, we’re both on television—or I am—she’s apparently doing”—he coughed either diplomatically or sarcastically, she couldn’t tell—"administrative work now. Behind the camera, you know.” He beamed. “I’m still the on-air talent.”

Paige knew she had made a grave mistake. Trent still has an ego the size of a redwood tree. Dammit.