Page 70 of Eagle

“Not my first rodeo, but I appreciate you looking out for me,”I said as I climbed into the driver’s seat.

“You bringing your friend around here?” he asked as I pulled the door closed and rolled the window down.

“Doubtful. She’s not a dancer. Not even sure I’ll see much of Eagle while she’s in town.”

Rayne leaned on the door, crossing his arms over the window seal. “Very nice ride. And, hey, don’t be judgy. She may love this kind of place.”

“Maybe. I gotta run. Getting her from the airport.”

He leaned up and smacked the car. “Honey, you need to go. Traffic is going to be a whole bitch, even this time of day. You be safe, girl. I gotta get back in. I only had three songs queued up. Love the new ride”

Once Rayne sprinted back inside, I looked up a restaurant nearby where I could hang out and headed over. After getting hit on numerous times, two drinks sent my way that I didn’t touch, and watching more than half of a Braves game on the TV over the bar, I checked my watch. She said she’d land at eleven and it was right at ten thirty. I left some cash on the bar, hit the restroom quickly, then got back on the road toward the airport.

No shit, I’d lived in a few big cities, but Atlanta traffic was like nothing I’d ever seen. The club was technically in Atlanta, but getting to the airport took me through midtown, downtown, and beyond, and it was stressful as fuck. Between the big trucks who seemed to know they had to drive defensively here and the maniacs who liked to play chicken instead of letting you merge, I was shaking. It was insane how bad traffic was that late at night. I sighed with relief as I saw the exit to the airport, but then got sick all over again when I saw my life flash before my eyes, trying to get into the lane to take me to the correct gate.

When Shiv was ready to go home, either Eagle was drivingher back, or she was getting a ride share. I wasn’t even done, and I regretted not having those drinks. After going to the wrong gate, getting yelled at by two different officers directing traffic, and a few unhinged messages to Shiv, I finally figured out where I was supposed to be, but I wasn’t allowed to park and wait, so I had to just keep circling.

After three loops around, I finally saw her standing there with a rolling suitcase and a laptop bag. Her face looked the same, but her brown skin was a touch darker than usual, probably because she’d been in Florida. Her hair was a little longer than I remembered, but still curly and black, blowing around her face. She had on a grey pinstripe pantsuit with a black shirt and black heels–not stilettos, though. She had been taller than mom when we were younger and towered over me, but I think she was only about five foot six. The suit perfectly highlighted her voluptuous figure.

Realizing there were lots of cars like mine, I whipped to the curb and opened my door, waving my arms around. “Shiv! Shiv!”

She looked in my direction and smiled from ear to ear, then jumped when the officer started obnoxiously blowing his whistle. “You can’t park there. Move it.”

“She’s picking me up,” Shiv yelled in his direction as she hurried to my car. I hit the button for the trunk and she tossed her things in, then ran to the passenger side and climbed in. “C’mon before he arrests me for yelling at him or something,” she said as she slammed her door and buckled up.

I clamored to get back in, but then rolled my eyes as I tried to pull away and another car was blocking me. “I’ll be giddy and silly in a minute, but right now my nerves are shot. How do people do this regularly?” I asked as I watched the officer scream at the car that was blocking me. It nearly clipped him asit peeled away, so I took my chance and pulled out, then took off. It was now well past eleven thirty and this place was still packed.

Shiv looked in her mirror. “We’ll hug and stuff when we get somewhere. Holy hell, that airport is insane.” Shiv worked her blazer off as I navigated back onto the busy highway.

“You’re just gonna have to move here because I can’t do this again.” I reached my hand over and grabbed hers. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Please take me to get hammered and see hot men.”

I let out a belly laugh. “What? Are you hungry or something?”

“Hammered and hot men, please. I’ve been at a medical conference for a week with a bunch of stuffy old women and no hot men. Not to mention stuck at an airport all day thanks to a fucking delay. I’m sorry it’s so late, by the way.”

“Medical conference, huh? So what practice did you land on, Shiv?”

“I’m technically a psychiatrist and I also have a PhD, but I wonder if I can go to school for something else?”

“You’re a double doctor? Holy shit!”

“Well, it’s not as cool as it sounds, and I hoped being a psychiatrist meant less blood, but I have to deal with some depressing shit. I got my PhD so maybe I can move into trials or something. Who knows. So anyway, hammered and hot men.”

“Why not do, like, primary care doctor or something? For the record, I think psychology is cool as hell but you don’t seem pumped about it.”

She shrugged and finally let go of my hand. “I don’t like fluids, and blood, and gross stuff, so I didn’t think working as a medical doctor was the right path. But, of course, I was expectedto go to medical school.”

Her dad was a doctor and it wasn’t uncommon for the kids where we were from to carry on the family trade. Most of the lawyers had lawyers, engineers had engineers, and so on.

“So, boring conference. Florida sounds fun, though?”

“It was hotter than Trinidad and just as muggy. Plus, I was in so many sessions it didn’t matter if there was fun stuff to do nearby.”

“Don’t people get sloshed and cut loose at those events?” Growing up in a wealthy area, you overheard the dinner chats of the grownups and anytime there was business away, it sounded more like a chance to party than anything.

“Sure, if you want to hang out with all the boring people.Yuck. Iknowyou know where there are hot men and alcoholic beverages. Take me there, please,” she said, dragging out the last word.

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