Page 71 of Winter Glam in Amsterdam

I take a deep breath, linking my pinky with hers.

"Zoey, I need a certain level of reliability," I explain, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "I need to know my partner won’t leave me high and dry, without a clue in face of an emergency. And ghosting is just not it.

"But is it really ghosting if you blocked him?" she wonders, lifting her eyebrow at me in challenge. "He told me he was about to get back to you but noticed you blocked him."

"Zoey. This whole thing is between your brother and me," I point out. “I won’t get into definitions of ‘ghosting’ in this context. That seems like straw-grasping at best.”

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to point fingers. I’m kind of at fault for what happened so I feel obligated to make this right."

Now it's my turn to lift an eyebrow at her, watching her bite her lip anxiously.

"Zoey, this is not your fault." She rolls her eyes at me like a typical teenager, but I reiterate, "Really."

"Your brothers jumping at your call could make me like your brother all the more. But I can't be the kind of partner who is left behind and in the dark."

Zoey shakes her head, as it finally seems to sink in. With shock, I realize I have only about ten more minutes to pack.

"I really hate to kick you out," I say, not taking my eyes off the clock as if that will make time pass slower, "but I really need to get going. I have to catch a flight and still have some stuff left to pack."

"No worries." She slides off the bar stool at the kitchen counter, shooting me a genuinely happy smile. "Thank you for not closing the door in my face and hearing me out."

"Of course," I say, and before I know it, she throws her non-casted arm around me in a hug.

"It was good to meet you. Which airport will you be going to?"

"Philly," I admit, and she nods, her grin widening.

"Philly, huh? You know, my brother lives in Philly." She shoots me a wink. “Just saying.”

And I shoo her toward the door.

"Have a safe trip home," I say and close the door behind her before I rush to get the rest of my stuff together.

"Alright, honey." Mom stops me right in front of their gate, extending her arms for a hug. "This is us. Now, I hope you have so much fun in California." She presses a kiss to my cheek. "And make sure to tell us all about it, will you? Honey, I’m so happy for you!"

I grin, stepping into my dad's hug next. "Luca said to give his best to Aunt Cecil. Have a safe flight. Let me know when you’ve landed."

"You too," Mom says cheerfully and pulls her suitcase towards the check-in while I continue to walk down the terminal, checking my digital ticket again.

I still can't believe this company is actually flying me in, just to sign the contract and show me around.

The interview process had been nerve-wracking, with tons of technical questions and tests. I never thought I’d get far, but it’s not like I had any other opportunities lined up, so I just went for it, and when they sent me the offer, I was over the moon.

I never expected them to actually pay for my plane ticket as well, but they very graciously did. So, with a spring in my step, I come to a stop in front of my airline's check-in, blood draining from my face when I see the line in front of it.

Good thing I'm here early, thanks to my parents. It looks like this is going to take a while.

"I am so sorry, Miss Sheppard," the attendant says upon scanning my ticket, "but it appears this ticket is invalid."

"In- what now?" I ask, color draining from my face. That can’t be.

"According to our system, it was canceled this morning," she explains, and my heart starts beating in my throat.

"That's not possible," I stammer, fumbling my phone out of my pocket to pull up the company's e-mail with the ticket. "Here." I turn my phone to show the woman. "It says here it's been paid for and all."

"I'm so sorry, hon," she says empathetically, and I fight tears as I look at her. Her eyes are so full of sympathy, it makes me feel pathetic. "It says here it was canceled five hours ago. Did they send you another email? Or called you?"

"No," I answer, panic in my voice as I pull up my inbox and reload it. There's no new email. Not even in my spam folder. Nothing.

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