Page 3 of Lucky in Love
“You know,” Tess interjected. “It occurs to me that some of this stuff we’re calling luck is really just Alex working her butt off.”
“Good point,” Juliet agreed. “She does love a good goal and a long checklist.”
“To checklists.” Alex raised her glass.
“So, what does Pops think of your plans for the cabins?” Faith asked.
“He likes the idea. Which is a relief, because it’s too late to stop it now.”
“I can’t wait to see how things play out,” Juliet said. “Internet-free camping is a fantastic idea.”
“In theory, yes.” Alex sipped her skinny margarita. “In practice, we’ll see.”
“How are you going to keep people from just using their phone data?” Faith said.
“I’m gonna have to rely on the honor system.” Alex shrugged. “I won’t be able to stop everything. But hopefully the spotty cell coverage will make roaming data too unreliable and frustrating for campers to want to cheat.”
“What about the delay on building the rec cabin?” Tess asked. “Didn’t the contractor push you off a week? You gonna be ready?”
“Ready or not, people have reservations,” Alex said. “Lyle says he’ll bring double the crew and thinks he can still get it built before Monday. It’s a simple design, but who knows?”
“Five days,” Tess said. “Is that enough time? Campers don’t trek to the woods to listen to buzz saws all day.”
“Believe me, I know,” Alex said, getting agitated.
“And the repairs on that last unit?” Tess pressed.
“That one’s off the books for now,” Alex said. “I don’t want bad reviews over a leaky roof, so it’ll stay vacant until I schedule its facelift.”
Tess seemed satisfied and nodded her approval.
“Okay, okay,” Faith interrupted. “Back to happy topics. We came to celebrate Alex’s new business venture and hunky newbeau. Cheers to our pint-sized best friend and her ocean-sized success.”
They raised their glasses, clinked, and drank.
“You’re right, Faith,” Alex said. “I gotta focus on the positive.”
And really, that was easy. Except for the contractor snafu, life was bordering on perfect. As long as her luck held, everything would turn out fine.
CHAPTER TWO
Brody Collins sat in yet another airport. Sometimes he felt like half his life was spent on a stiff plastic seat waiting for a flight. As he watched planes come and go through grungy floor-to-ceiling windows, he absentmindedly wondered how much they spend on glass cleaner every year. Not enough.
An overhead announcement advised his flight to New Hampshire would begin boarding soon. It was his last assignment of the year. And thank goodness.
His phone buzzed with a video call request. Chloe. He hit the button to answer, and his perky, perfectly put-together agent popped onto the screen. Her lips pursed into a pout. “I don’t love the beard, Brody. Shave it before you come home?” Chloe was his agent, but did double duty as his girlfriend.
“But then what will I stroke when I’m ruminating?” he joked, running a hand over his short beard.
Chloe rolled her eyes. “I suppose it will work out nicely for your mountain man excursion. But seriously, lose it after that.”
Chatter arose around him, and he noticed people elbowing each other and nodding to the TV in the corner. Phones, books, and babies were abandoned as eyes and attention glued to the news.
There was no sound, but the closed-captioning revealed why the anxiety level was ratcheting upward for everyone in his general vicinity. An inmate from the New Hampshire State Penitentiary had escaped and was at large.
“Good morning,” a chipper gate agent greeted through the microphone, snapping the on-edge passengers to attention. “We’d like to welcome you to flight five-oh-three to Portsmouth.”
As she continued with pre-boarding instructions—stuff he’d heard a million times—her cheery attitude said she either hadn’t heard the news or wasn’t bothered by an escaped felon running loose in the very area this flight was headed. Then again, as the gate agent, she would remain safe and sound working the counter at gate forty-two all day—nowhere near New Hampshire.
