Page 64 of A Mutually Beneficial Proposal

Owen

Ella’s friendKenzie has yet to read my message, and I’ve run out of options to reach Ella, which is how I’ve ended up at the airport. I’m not letting her get away easily. I may have only known her four days, but she makes my heart want to explode, and I’m not stupid enough to let her walk away from me.

Not unless that’s truly what she wants.

I need to consider that as a possibility, but I don’t like to live life with what-ifs. I refuse to let Ella be one. I’m going to find her, and I’m going to make sure she knows the truth. If she still doesn’t want anything to do with me, I’ll respect that choice, but only once I’ve explained what I’m beginning to believe she saw.

“Calling all passengers for Flight 652 to Charlotte. We are now boarding all rows,” a woman’s voice sounds over the speaker.

I grab my carry-on and head toward the line forming. Thanks to my last-minute flight changes, I’m stuck in the back row, but I don’t care. I just want to find Ella.

Even though I’m sure she’s not here, I search around again for any sign of her, but no such luck. With a sigh, I hold my phone out and let the flight attendant scan my electronic ticket.

“Enjoy your flight, Mr. Porter,” she says before following me to close the door.

Little chance of that, I think, but I also remind myself that if I can find Ella, then taking a cramped seat on a full plane will be the best thing I ever did.

Only when I finally get to my seat and see I’ve been seated next to a woman with a toddler too big to be sitting on her lap and stare into his devious eyes, I know it’s going to be the longest five hours of my life.

* * *

I havepermanent marker on my cheek, applesauce on my crotch, and something sticky embedded in my hair. Never before have I met a child so conniving, and I’m convinced the one next to me was touched by the devil when he was born.

His mother apologized several dozen times, but her words don’t erase the black lines from my face or clean the crusty applesauce from the zipper of my jeans.

When the plane comes to a full stop, I look over at the toddler and want to scream when I see that he’s finally asleep.

The mom just shrugs. Instead of being angry, I smile and step over her. I grab my carry-on from the overhead storage compartment and nearly kiss the flight attendant when he announces that they’ll be allowing passengers to exit from the rear of the plane as well.

At least something is finally going right for me.

When I turn my phone off airplane mode, disappointment fills me that I still haven’t heard from Ella or her friend. Though, I did as much cyberstalking as I could during the flight when I wasn’t dodging the toddler’s attempts to disfigure me and came up with a plan.

A deep dive into Kenzie’s social media proved useful. She’s almost too relaxed with the information she posts online. She works for a tech company, and I’m hopeful I can catch her before she leaves for the day. So long as they don’t cut out right at five.

I make my way through the airport, annoyed about waiting nearly thirty minutes for my checked bag to come around the luggage carousel. At least I left my car in long term parking, so I don’t have to depend on a taxi or car service.

It’s 4:45pm, and if I don’t run into any other issues I should get to Kenzie’s work within the half-hour.

My stomach churns when I think of all the ways this could end badly, but I know I have to try. Ella Danes needs to know exactly how she makes me feel.

* * *

Nearly an hour later,my knuckles are white and I’m pretty sure my steering wheel is dented. I got stuck on the interstate, thanks to a small accident in a section of the road where there is no place to pull off onto a shoulder.

With one-lane traffic backed up three miles, I’m certain I’ve missed my chance to find Kenzie before she leaves for the weekend. Regardless of my lost hope, I still head to the corporate office address I found online.

They only have one employee parking lot that I can see and it’s about half-full. I park at the front where I can see a few doors I assume to be the ones that the employees use to come and go.

While I wait, I pull up Kenzie’s profile again and get a fresh look at her face, so I don’t accidentally approach the wrong woman and get the cops called on me.

Kenzie has deep auburn hair and light hazel eyes with fair skin that is free of freckles, at least from the pictures I’ve seen online. She shouldn’t be hard to miss, but I won’t be making any assumptions. Not when there is so much on the line.

Twenty minutes go by, and I’ve seen a couple dozen people leave, but none of them matching Kenzie’s description. There are still another fifteen or so cars left, giving me a little bit of hope.

I wait another ten minutes and my efforts are rewarded. A redhead with her hair piled on top of her head and wearing a blue dress exits.

She has a phone up to her ear and looks concerned while she walks at a quickened pace toward the parking lot.

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