Page 38 of Where We Met

"Alright. Good luck, bro. Show Mr. Mancini what it'd be like to work with us."

Marcus winks at me, then snuggles into Vino, knowing that it'll annoy me.

I grab my suitcase and walk out, but not before giving him the finger. His laugh echoes behind me as I close the door.

I've parked my car in the long-term parking lot and am in line for airport security, all within forty minutes. I used to take a car service each time I had to fly, but I found that after a long trip back home, I like getting into my own car and not having to deal with anyone else.

I'm standing in the airport security area when I get a phone call from a carrier company for one of our suppliers. I've been hounding them for days trying to straighten out a delay of a large order that we put in weeks ago.

"Luke Giannelli," I answer.

"Hello, Mr. Giannelli. This is Marshall at Carrier For You. I received word that you've been trying to get ahold of me."

"Yes, I have been for a while now. I trust you've been brought up to speed on the matter,” I say as I pace back and forth.

“I see one of your orders was delayed in Rome. We’re so sorry for any inconvenience. We had an emergency order come through that took priority. I assure you that your order is on a plane and will make it to your warehouse tomorrow.”

Unbelievable. This little prick just admitted that he grounded my order for someone else to receive theirs sooner.

“Well, I don’t feel assured. When I agree to and pay for a specific delivery date, I expect you to honor your end of the deal. I have some very important clients who are waiting for their order, and telling them someone else's order was more important is not an option."

"I understand why you're upset bu—" he starts, but I cut him off.

"No, I don't think you do. If you did, you would—" I begin, but the words get stuck in my throat.

Savannah is standing in front of me in tight yoga pants and a cashmere cream sweater. Her hair is down in loose waves, and her makeup is minimal. She looks… stunning.

Her sweet smile makes me feel things.

"Mr. Giannelli. I'm sorry, did I lose you?" Marshall talks through the phone, getting my attention.

"No, I'm here. Just don't let it happen again," I say to him while my eyes hold Savannah's. I hang up the phone and smile.

"Sounds like somebody's in trouble," she jokes. "No need to stop on my account."

"I'm not interested in talking to that person for a second longer when you're in front of me." My eyes drift back down her body. "You look beautiful."

She looks down at herself. "I was trying to look presentable but comfortable. A ten-hour plane ride while stuck in those tight seats calls for comfy clothes."

"Ah, I get it. I guess I'm gonna be a bit uncomfortable then," I say.

She looks at my jeans and gray button-down shirt. "It's not what I would have picked for a long flight, but you look good."

"Come on, let's get through this line."

We both put our luggage on the conveyor belt and walk through the metal detector, bypassing security without issue. I hate having to take off my shoes in public, though. It makes me feel defenseless being shoeless in front of so many strangers. I pause and wonder if I'm the only weird one who feels this way or if we're all thinking the same thing as we obey the rules like it's normal. At least it's winter, and we're all in socks.

Savannah starts to walk toward the main terminals, but I stop her and grab her hand.

"It's this way," I instruct.

She follows me, confusion evident in her every move. I may have left out some details about the travel.

I lead her onto an elevator to the airport shuttle, which takes us to a completely different part of the airport.

"Where are we going?" she asks as we step off.

We walk into a waiting area that is surrounded by glass which gives us a perfect view of several small planes out on the tarmac.

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