Page 29 of A Master's Destiny
Early the next morning, I head to the busy airport, wanting to meet Anderson at the gate. I spot him walking off the jetway decked out in his cowboy hat and boots, escorting an old woman. He doesn’t even notice me as he walks past.
“Anderson,” I call out.
He turns and breaks out in a grin. “Hey, buddy! It’s good to see you.”
Anderson turns to the lady. “Mrs. Lieberman, let me introduce you. This is Thane. He’s the friend I’ve been talking about.”
The old woman looks up at me with a twinkle in her eye. “Brad tells me you’re a Master of the Arts.”
I smirk, amused by his description of me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lieberman.”
“You are such a fine-looking gentleman,” she gushes. She looks at Anderson and then adds, “You both are.”
“Honeypot…mind introducing me to your two boyfriends?”
I turn to see an older man dressed in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt walking up. Anderson immediately holds out his hand to him. “You must be Mr. Lieberman. I recognize you from all of her pictures.”
“Aren’t they such handsome boys?” Mrs. Lieberman giggles sweetly, giving her husband a quick peck on the cheek. “But, not quite as handsome as you, dear.”
The man winks at his wife. “Just keep telling yourself that, honeypot.”
Anderson tips his hat to her. “Until we meet again, lovely lady.”
Leaving Mrs. Lieberman blushing, Anderson claps me on the back. Together, we start down the terminal. “Mighty kind of you to meet me at the gate.”
“Of course.” I glance at him as we walk. The guy is tanner and more muscular than the last time I saw him. “Country life seems to agree with you.”
He raises a critical eyebrow as he looks me up and down. “It’s definitely a lot healthier than pushing papers from dawn to dusk.”
Despite recently spending a whole day with Durov on the beach, the slight tan I had disappeared within days and now, sadly, I have nothing to show for it.
He elbows me good-naturedly. “You’re almost as pasty white as you were in college.”
“I resemble that remark.” I snort and tell him, “That’s why we’re headed to the beach. I hope you brought a swimsuit.”
He lowers the waistband of his jeans, showing off his neon trunks. “As soon as we hit that beach, I’m throwing off these clothes and diving into those clear blue waters.”
I chuckle as I lower the waistband of my gray sweats. “Great minds think alike.”
Anderson grins, slapping me on the back again. “Can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you, buddy.”
I didn’t realize until now how much I missed having him around. Once we collect his luggage from the baggage carousel, we head to my car. “I wanted to invite Durov to join us at the beach today,” I share, “but he’s up in San Francisco for a couple of weeks staying with friends in an area called ‘Little Russia’.”
“Little Russia, huh? I bet he’s living it up, then.”
I nod, smiling. “It certainly sounded like it when I called.”
When we reach the car, Anderson pats her on the roof, murmuring, “Hey there, old girl” before getting in.
He’ll never know how much I appreciate that simple gesture.
“Motivation’s air conditioning doesn’t cool like it used to,” I warn him as I start the engine.
He chuckles. “I like that you named your car. I believe every trusty steed deserves a name, whether they’re made of flesh or metal. We call my pop’s Chevy truck Old Faithful. He bought her in 1968, and she has been with our family ever since—even through tornadoes, blizzards, and hailstorms. You know what?” he asks, smiling at me. “After all these years, she still starts right up.”
I like that Anderson comes from a humble background and understands.
As we sit in traffic, waiting to leave the airport, I remind him, “If you get too hot, you can roll down your window.”
