Page 9 of Midnight Sun

Halldór senses his discomfort and valiantly steps in to make awkward conversation until they're ready to fetch their luggage.

“Do you want a lift?” Halldór asks. “We’re heading into the city anyway.”

“No. I've a driver waiting.”

Halldór snorts. “Okay.”

“See you later,” Finn says. James answers with a curt nod and heads toward the main entrance.

Finn takes his bag and trails after Halldór, who’s already walking towards the parking lot. But the uneasy feeling only grows stronger as he loses sight of James in the crowd. Finn slows his steps and looks around again.

“Are you coming?”

“Yeah, just…” Finn stops and stares into the crowd. It’s summer, and the airport is crammed with tourists. “Don’t you think it’s weird that Kristín ordered a driver instead of asking us to give James a lift? It’s not like her to send two cars driving around when one suffices.”

“Maybe James’ management didn’t approve of it?” Halldór sounds doubtful. “It’s not like Hrafna to forget to tell us the precious star of her new project is on our flight, too,” he adds after a moment of hesitation.

“I’ll go fetch him. Seems like there’s a miscommunication.”

Finn’s already jogging towards the exit. His sense of urgency is a stark contrast to the harmless misunderstanding that must’ve taken place.

“Let’s meet at the car,” Halldór calls after him.

Finn weaves through the crowd as fast as he can and barges through the swinging doors opening into the area where taxis are parked and buses are waiting to transfer passengers to Reykjavík. He looks around, afraid that he missed James. But then he spots him at the end of the line of waiting cars. A young man in a driver’s livery hoists his luggage into the trunk of a waiting limousine.

“James!” Finn sprints down the line of waiting taxis at full speed. If he’s wrong about this he’s making a dick of himself, but he doesn’t care.

James looks up at him, an irritated frown furrowing his brows. But Finn doesn’t miss the nervous glance the driver shoots at him, so he doesn’t slow down until he’s standing firmly at James’ side.

“What is it now?” James grumbles.

“Who hired you?” Finn asks the driver bluntly, switching to Icelandic. The boy appears to be barely seventeen and turns pale as Finn looms over him. His eyes widen in recognition as he takes a proper look at Finn.

“Umm–I–was hired by Hrafna,” the boy stammers.

Finn doesn’t believe a word he says.

“What’s going on?” James asks beside him. Finn puts a placating hand on his forearm, not letting the boy out of his sight. The boy takes a nervous glance at the car, and Finn steps in his way quickly before he can get any funny ideas, like trying to drive off.

“Hrafna hired you, yes? Personally?”

“No, of course not Hrafna herself. But her–assistant.”

“What's the name of her assistant?”

“I don't remember,” the boy says petulantly.

“Liar.” Finn pulls out his mobile.

“What are you doing?” the boy asks. Finn can tell by his fidgeting that he’s getting nervous.

“I’m calling Hrafna. Let’s see what she says.”

Finn takes his time dialing Hrafna’s number, watching the boy sweat out of the corner of his eyes.

“Wait!”

Finn tilts his head but doesn’t hang up just yet.