Page 1 of Snowbound

CHAPTER1

CARLY

Idrop my head into my hands and groan. “Canceled? What do you mean, canceled?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” says the woman at the check-in desk. I don’t believe she really is sorry. The smile she’s wearing is stressed and fake, a smile I’ve given clients a hundred times.

“But I need to get this flight,” I press. “I have a meeting tomorrow. I need to get to it.”

“I can look to see what else we’ve got to Michigan today, ma’am, but unfortunately, this storm is likely to mean many more cancelations and delays. If you have an important meeting, I highly suggest finding alternative transportation.”

“Alternative?” I groan again. “What, you want me to walk there?”

I take a sharp breath as I realize that I’m starting to sound like the worst of my clients. I know exactly how much it sucks to have someone be unrealistically demanding of you. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. Please, could you look at rebook options for me?”

“Of course,” says the woman, turning to her computer. This is definitely not the last time she’s going to be having this conversation today, and I feel bad for her. I’ve had my fair share of nightmare clients, and I’m sure she has too.

She types into the computer and frowns. It’s definitely not a good sort of frown. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but all flights to Michigan have been canceled today. I can rebook you for tomorrow morning, or we can issue you a refund.”

“Do I have to decide now?”

“It would be easier for you to get it all set with me now than get through to the helpline later.”

“Can you give me a second?”

She nods and waves to the person behind me. Clearly, she wants to try to get through as many of us as possible.

I tune out the sound of the next family being disappointed by their own flight cancelation and start looking on my phone. It’s a twelve-hour drive from Philly to Michigan, which is why I was going to fly. It seems like a ridiculous distance to drive, but at least if I do that, I’ll get there. It’s going to take me a while, but I can rely on me and my little car. It’s old and not too pretty, but it’s reliable.

If I were a sane person, I would probably cancel the job altogether. But these clients are paying me a fortune to arrange their dream wedding, and I can’t afford to miss out on good money like that.

After all, I haven’t made my business successful by saying no to clients when things are hard.

The family moves on, and I swing back to the counter. “I’ll take the refund, please.”

Without any fanfare, the woman issues me a refund. Before I can think about it again, I’m stumbling out of the airport, back into the freezing blizzard that’s bringing all the planes to a halt. Snow sticks to my eyelashes and blows into my mouth. I wrap my coat tighter around myself, trying and failing to keep the bitter wind from cutting through me.

I flag down a taxi and let the driver take me home in silence. The traffic in and out of the airport is terrible too, and I spend the entire journey staring out of the window, watching the frenzy of flakes fall from the sky.

Ideally, I want to make it to Michigan before nine tonight, which means I have to leave no later than eight thirty this morning. That gives me just over an hour to get ready.

In a perfect world, I’d be just about to board my flight, ready to take to the sky and meet with yet another demanding couple. All these couples with more money than sense are the same; they want lavish, they want loud. They want to show off, and the best way they can think of to do that is to spend a fortune on a dress they’ll wear for forty minutes and food that no one will eat because it’s too gourmet.

But it’s not my job to question them. It’s my job to make their dreams come true.

I throw some more items in a duffle bag, more clothes, more snacks. I had been traveling light, sticking to my carry-on luggage, but if I’m going in the car, I can bring whatever I want. Water and chips are a good start, but I also throw in a blanket and some protein bars. You never know what’s going to happen.

Quickly, I double-check what I’ve packed, but I’m losing time. God knows how slow getting out of the city is going to be. Once I hit the highway, I should be okay, but getting there is not going to be fun.

Grunting under the strain, I grab my carry-on and sling the duffle over my shoulder, the straps digging into my skin. I turn to have one last glance out of the window, as if it might magically have stopped snowing and started being perfect again.

It hasn’t.

The sky is as dark and gray as ever, flecked with the frozen flakes that have ruined my day. You’d think that there would only be so much snow that could come down, but it looks like it might never stop. Even if it did, it’s too late for me.

I’ve made this choice now. It’s time to hit the road.

I toss my bags in back and hop into the driver’s seat, shivering as I turn the key and my car bursts to life. Time to blast the heat and my music.

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