Page 14 of The Plus-One Deal

“You weren’t kidding,” gushed Verity. “You two were amazing. Where did you learn to dance like that?”

I blurted “Cotillion” as Conrad said “Our third date.” We stared at each other, and Ken burst out laughing.

“I guess you’re still learning new things about each other.”

“I guess so,” said Conrad, recovering quickly. “I completely forgot she was a debutante.”

“He’s still partly right, though, about the tango. We didn’t dothatin my cotillion classes.”

We all shared a laugh at that, but my nerves were back. We’d squeaked by so far on twelve years of friendship, but at the heart of it, our romance was a lie. Sooner or later, we’d slip up for real, mess up in a way we couldn’t come back from.

“That’s worn me out,” I said. “We should turn in soon.”

“Not before dessert, surely.” Verity waved for our waiter. “Could we see the dessert cart? Those cakes looked delicious.”

I subsided, trapped, but how long could dessert take? As long as nobody ordered the chocolate soufflé.

“I’m pretty full,” said Conrad, and squeezed my hand under the table. “I’ll just get a slice of the Black Forest cake.”

“Me too,” I said. “Make it a sliver.” I held my thumb and forefinger together to indicate a thin slice.

“That does look delicious,” said Verity. She winked at Ken. “How about we split a slice? And let’s have some coffee.”

I sagged with relief: we were nearly home free. Soon, we’d be up in our ocean-view suites, catching a quick nap before an early departure. By the time Verity stirred herself, we’d be above the clouds, just Conrad and Claire again. Separate people. The worst would be over, and I would be in.

“We’ll have to get together back in New York,” said Ken. “It’s hard to find other couples as fun as you two. You don’t happen to play tennis?”

I choked on my coffee.

“We do,” said Conrad, patting my back. “Though, we hardly have time these days, with— you okay?”

I gulped more coffee to quiet my coughing. “I’m good,” I said. “And, yeah, we love tennis, but Conrad’s just moved his campus. He’s got workers coming and going, new hires, new departments.”

“And you, with Timeless! You’re such a power couple.” Verity beamed at us. “Don’t worry, we’re notthosepeople, like a burr on your butt, always calling and texting to get together. We’re busy too, but let’s play some time.”

I nodded, relaxing. “Some time, for sure.”

Conrad finished his cake and leaned back with a sigh. “That was delicious. I’m stuffed like a turkey.”

“Me too,” I said, taking his cue. “Couldn’t fit in another bite if I tried.”

“We should probably?—”

“Excuse me.” The head waiter was tapping a glass. “Excuse me, I’m sorry. Could I have everyone’s attention, just for a moment?”

Verity leaned over to give Ken a nudge. “Wonder who’s double parked?”

Ken chuckled and kissed her.

“I’m sorry,” said the waiter, when the murmurs had died down. “I know a lot of you were here for the summit, planning on flying out tonight or tomorrow. Unfortunately, we’ve just received word of a storm, uh…” He checked his phone, frowned, and slipped it into his pocket. “Tropical Storm Henrietta is veering off course. It’s on course to hit us around midnight tonight. As a result, all flights are grounded, and will remain grounded until further notice.”

A chorus of groans went up. My stomach turned over. The waiter held his hands up and flapped them for silence.

“We’ll accommodate you,” he called, over the uproar. “Anyone missing a flight on account of the storm, we’ll comp your room till they can rebook you.”

Conrad leaned in. “I’ll get us out. Private flights should be fine.”

I barely heard him, staring out past the waiter. The tropical sky was wide, clear, and perfect, hung with a jewel-bright scatter of stars. Maybe the storm wouldn’t hit after all. Or it would blow itself out and barely touch us. Our flight would be back on. We’d get out as planned.

---