Josh told her we’d get back to her quickly, and the projector had not even cooled down from her presentation when the second appointment was escorted into the room. I was disappointed that Chase had said he wouldn’t be able to sit in on the second focus group presentation, but also relieved I’d have nothing to distract me.

When the meetings finally ended at six, we sat around the conference room discussing the two companies. We agreed unanimously that Elaine’s Advance Focus was the better firm to handle our focus groups. Josh looked to Lindsey and me.

“Think we can pull together the rest of the samples and presentations in time to join the groups Elaine has running this week in Kansas and here in the city?” he asked.

“We can,” Lindsey said. “It’ll be close, but we can pull it together tomorrow, I think.”

Josh nodded. “I need to be here for a photo shoot we have going on the rest of the week uptown. So which one of you is staying in New York and which is heading to Kansas?”

Lindsey looked to me, and I said, “I’ll do whatever you don’t want to do.”

“Good. Because I hate to fly. I’d rather cover the New York focus group.”

“Well, that was easy,” Josh said. “Chase may want to join you for some of the focus group here, Lindsey. Let him know when you’re confirmed with the details.”

She nodded. “Will do.”

While I was going to miss out on spending time with Chase, I knew deep down that I needed some distance between us. A few thousand miles might be the only thing that could separate us enough to let me clear my head.

Chapter 18

Reese

My flight was booked for early on Wednesday so I’d have the afternoon to set up at Advanced Focus’s Kansas City consumer research office for the first focus group session on Thursday morning. Chase had been out of the office all Tuesday afternoon, so I’d texted him that I wouldn’t be able to have dinner. He had responded with one word. Fine. He probably thought I was trying to blow him off again after I’d let things—let myself—get out of hand this weekend.

Now it was nearly six-thirty Wednesday morning, and I was getting ready to head to the airport when he finally expanded on his previous text.

Chase: I’ll take a rain check. But this time I’m collecting it.

There wasn’t time to text back. The car service was coming at six-thirty, and my elevator could sometimes take a few minutes. I zipped my suitcase closed, tossed my phone in my purse, and gave Ugly Kitty a quick pet.

“Your real owner is going to take care of you while I’m gone. Make sure she doesn’t go through my shit.” I stroked Tallulah’s head. “You be a good little Ugly Kitty and claw my mom’s ankles when she starts rummaging through my underwear drawer. Okay?”

A dark town car was waiting in front of my building when I got downstairs. Even though my flight wasn’t for two and a half hours, I began to stress when we hit a dead stop on our way to the Tunnel. Taking a deep breath, I began to relax when we finally made it out of Manhattan, only to panic again when the other side of the Tunnel was worse than the city.

“What’s going on?” I asked the driver. “This is bad even for rush hour traffic.”

“Construction. Supposed to end by six each morning, but the laborers must want the overtime.” He shrugged and pointed to the road ahead of us, which was a sea of brake lights as three lanes attempted to converge into one.

As we inched our way forward over the next hour, it killed me to discover that although the cones were out for miles, there wasn’t actually any construction going on anymore. Checking my watch, I realized there was a distinct possibility I could miss my flight if traffic didn’t clear soon.

On a good day, I was a nervous flyer. The added stress of possibly being late caused my heart to accelerate even more. Needing to distract myself, I took out my phone. A new text had just arrived.

Mom: You need to clean out your refrigerator more often. You have expired pickles.

Really? Was she hiding outside in an alleyway when I left? Just couldn’t wait to go in and start her investigation? I’d left Ugly Kitty with a full dish of food. It wasn’t even necessary for her to stop by until tomorrow. I’d fix her. Screwing with her would take my mind off of my upcoming flight.

Reese: Don’t throw it out. I keep the expired stuff to feed to Tallulah.

Moving on, the next text was the one I hadn’t answered yet from Chase—about the rain check for the dinner I’d canceled last night.

Reese: Won’t be back until the weekend. My boss wanted to get rid of me, so he sent me to Kansas.

After responding to a few more texts and emails, I successfully took my mind off how late I was running. I arrived at JFK with thirty-five minutes before takeoff and hauled ass to a kiosk for check-in. When I spotted the length of the security line up ahead, I almost broke down and cried.

Desperate, I walked over to a TSA agent. “There’s no way I’m going to make my flight if I wait in this line. The Tunnel took forever to get through, and there was construction on the LIE. Any chance I can cut ahead? I’m traveling for business, and I really can’t miss my flight.”

“Ticket.” She held out a plastic-glove-covered hand and looked at me like she heard the same sob story a hundred times a day. Handing it back to me, she pointed over her shoulder. “First-class line to the left.”

I let out a breath when I saw there was no line where she was sending me. “Thank you so much!”

Of course, my gate was at the other end of the terminal, but I managed to get through security and down to the boarding area just as they announced last call. Since there was a small line to board, I caught my breath and walked up to the ticket counter to see about changing the middle seat I’d been issued when I purchased.

“Is there any chance I could switch my middle seat? I know I’m late and the last to board, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.”

“We’re pretty full…but let me check.” The attendant took my ticket and punched a bunch of numbers into the computer. Furrowing her brow, she said, “You actually don’t have a middle seat. You have an aisle.” She slid the ticket back to me and pointed. “Row two.”

That made no sense. “I was in row thirty-something when I bought the ticket.”