Gabriella

Running an obstacle course, I hurried through the airport, my cocktail dress flying behind me, and my carry-on—holding my personal satchel—rolling along the tile. If I ran faster, there was the possibility the wheels would spark, sending the contents of my suitcase up in flames. The line through security took what seemed like forever, giving me less than thirty minutes to reach the gate before the doors closed, leaving me stranded.

Thankfully, Indianapolis didn’t have a large airport.

I’d lived near Indianapolis for the past five years. After working for the devil himself, I’d found new employment at a nonprofit north of the city in the smaller city of Carmel. No, it wasn’t pronounced the same as the city in Monterey, but that didn’t stop the residents from believing they were the elite suburb of Indianapolis.

That new position was why I was running through the airport, looking more than a bit disheveled and racing toward gate A-14. Despite truly liking my current career move, I’d spent all morning with an intern who didn’t know one thing about running financial reports. He’d actually asked me how a nonprofit could provide salaries, as if he thought we were all there because of our love for the international fraternity. Don’t misunderstand, the objectives to promote the concepts of health, knowledge, and humanity were worth our efforts. But the salary was why we stayed.

While other associates of mine were already in Los Angeles, I would be the last to arrive. That didn’t mean I hadn’t put in the time and effort to make tonight’s gala a success. I had.

There was much more to my position in the Beta Kappa Phi fraternity than running payroll reports. A few of the pieces to the puzzle were schmoozing with alumni, securing donations, and maintaining relationships with sponsors.

Panting while trying to catch my breath, I slid to a stop at the counter in front of the door to gate A-14. All the seats in the area were empty. “Please don’t tell me I’m too late,” I said, my words labored.

The woman in the blue blouse shook her head. “It’s your lucky day.”

Blowing the rogue flyaway hair from my face, I sighed. “Not so far. I guess that means up is the only way to go.” I lifted my phone with my boarding pass to the sensor. Instead of green, a red light flashed.

“Lucky day,” I reminded her.

Looking at the computer screen, her forehead furrowed as she confirmed, “Ms. Crystal?”

I nodded.

“Give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

With the circulation of my fingers cut off from holding the hanger of my garment bag, I laid the bag over my arm and watched as the woman disappeared down the jet bridge toward the plane. Other travelers milled up and down the terminal at normal speeds, suggesting they weren’t in as big of a hurry as I’d been.

With each passing minute, my level of anxiety rose. My schedule was too tight for error. My itinerary had one layover. My second flight would arrive in LA by five thirty, Pacific time. That gave me just enough time to check in to my hotel, shower, transform myself into the competent representative for Beta Kappa Phi, and make it to cocktails in the ballroom by seven. The gala began at eight. Despite other associates being present, I had a role to perform.

I couldn’t miss my flight.

The Beta Kappa Phi annual gala was the national dinner and ceremony held each year at a different location. I wasn’t only attending but was presenting an award to a donor—a big donor—from Wisconsin. I knew his name and during my flight planned to read his biography to be more familiar with him.

Finally, the door to the jet bridge opened. The expression on the airline lady’s face wasn’t encouraging.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

Her fingers typed feverishly over her computer before she looked up. “Your seat was moved. The only empty seat is between two mothers with small children.”

Of course it was.

I feigned a grin. This was only the first leg of my trip, a two-hour flight. I could do it. “No worries. I’m the best aunt in the world—just ask my niece. It will be fine.”

“The issue is oxygen masks.”

“I hope we won’t need those.”

“There are only four for each row of three seats. Technically, the two mothers weren’t seated together. We had passengers on standby. When you weren’t here…”

Closing my eyes, I sighed. “Please, I have to get to LA.”

She looked up from her screen. “We have another flight leaving at 2:22.”

That was over two hours from now.

“What time will it arrive?”