Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Brynn

“ T raveling on the last business day before the holidays, huh?” Butch, my Uber driver, is a chatty one when I just want to sit quietly and dissect how the interview went.

Annie was very pleasant and sweet. Enzo was too, but he asked me the more typical hard-hitting questions, whereas Annie’s were more thought-provoking. The two of them were super professional, but it’s clear they’re a couple from the way they look at one another. Him especially. It’s nice to see a man who adores his wife.

I’m not sure I’ll ever find that, but then again, I’m still young.

“Yeah, I was only in town for a night.”

“And where are you headin’?”

I usually don’t mind talking to my drivers, but I just want to get to the airport, find my gate, and get on the plane, even if it’s not where I want to go right now. What would my family do if I decided to rebook the flight Mancini Advertising booked for me and head to Portland? Although that would be lonely, since I’d spend Christmas by myself.

“Utah,” I answer.

“Visiting family?”

He looks at me through the rearview mirror, and I smile. It’s not genuine, but he probably doesn’t see that. “Yep.”

Finally, he turns off the main road to follow the airport signs. I collect my purse, ready to hop out, but he abruptly stops in a line of traffic.

“Busiest day for travel,” he says, shaking his head.

I groan and throw myself back into the seat. Lifting my wrist, I check my watch to make sure I have time for this delay.

Inch by inch, we move forward while Christmas carols ring out of the stereo. Butch sings along to each one. I have a feeling—from the holiday lights around the inside of his car and the stuffed reindeer that’s been fixed to the grill—that he’s a Christmas lover. Normally I am too, but a little more subdued.

“I hope you have TSA pre-check. Security is going to be a nightmare,” Butch says, his eyes finding mine in the rearview mirror once again. He’s spent more time looking through that than the windshield.

“I do.” I don’t have to travel a lot, but enough that it makes it convenient for me.

We finally get closer to the actual airport, and I need to tip Butch extra because he snakes his way in and out of the line of cars, cutting people off, so that we move along faster than we would have.

“I’m not sure I can get you any closer,” he says, four car lanes away from the curb.

“No problem. I’ll get out here.” I open the door and quickly climb out.

He meets me at the trunk, pulling out my bag and handing it to me. “Merry Christmas, Brynn. Enjoy your time with your family.”

My shoulders slump because I’m really being a grinch this holiday season. What’s wrong with an Uber driver who wants to talk and sing carols? Absolutely nothing.

“Thank you, Butch. You too.”

I tip him extra for the holidays, and because he didn’t get the best version of me, and make my way safely to the curb.

Going through check-in and security is agony because even TSA pre-check is busy. Deciding to find my gate first, I realize I have hardly any time before we take off. The beautiful holiday decorations are lost in the sea of busy travelers hustling as if it’s Black Friday, and they’re out to score the latest door special.

I don’t catch a lot of smiles. In fact, most people look annoyed or pissed off.

Finally, I reach my gate, and I completely forgot until now that Kenzie and Andrew will be on my flight. Shit, I’m not in the mood to socialize. And although I don’t have to worry about Andrew on that front, Kenzie is a talker. Normally I enjoy it, but I’m mentally drained from the mix of a huge interview and having Pierce floating into my mind every time I have a quiet moment.

On second thought, Kenzie is perfect. She’ll keep my mind on things that don’t include hot English guys.

“Kenzie,” I say, waving and breaking the distance to where she and Andrew sit by the window.

Andrew is leaning back, his legs crossed, reading a book, while Kenzie’s head is buried in her phone with her head on Andrew’s shoulder. I assume the stroller next to them has their little guy in it. They really are one of those couples single girls get jealous over. Kenzie found her one and only, but I’m still searching for mine.

She lifts her head and says something to Andrew to make him lower his book and follow her line of vision. “Hi, Brynn.”

Kenzie is dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that reads, “I’m so Elfin’ cute.”

“Love the shirt,” I say, stopping in front of them.

She stands and extends her arms. “Andrew’s early gift to me,” she says, looking down at it. “It’s an inside joke.”

I wrap my arms around her, and she squeezes me hard.

Once she releases me, Andrew sets his book on Kenzie’s empty chair and hugs me. “Brynn, wonderful to see you again.”

I politely hug him, but not nearly as tightly as I did Kenzie. When we all part, I take the seat across from them.

“Is Nolan sleeping?” I ask, pointing at the stroller.

“Yes, and if we’re really lucky, he’ll sleep through the flight.” Kenzie crosses her fingers. “But he’s pretty excited to see his girlfriend.” She laughs, and Andrew rolls his eyes.

“Still trying to make sure they marry one another?” I giggle at the fact that Tessa and Kenzie have been swearing their children will marry one another someday whether they want to or not. There are only two months difference between them.

“Of course. And then we’ll really be related.” Kenzie’s voice is so loud that a few people glance over.

“What brought you to New York City, Brynn? Kenzie never said,” Andrew asks.

Her head whips in his direction. “Yes, I did, but your head has been buried in that book since the moment you bought it.”

He shrugs and looks at me for an answer.

“Oh, I had a job interview.”

“That’s funny,” he says and glances at Kenzie.

“Not really. There are how many businesses in New York City?” Kenzie laughs and playfully smacks Andrew’s shoulder.

He nods. “True.”

“What am I missing?” I ask, looking between the two of them.

“Andrew’s cousin was in town for an interview too. People must be trying to get them in before the holidays.” Kenzie wiggles in her seat, crossing her legs.

“Definitely not ideal.” I look at the board, and it says we’re boarding in twenty minutes. “Can I leave my carry-on here? I’m just going to run and grab some gum and maybe find a book of my own.”

Kenzie waves me off. “Yeah, I’m not chancing moving this kid until we’re on the plane.”

“Thanks so much.” I stand and head to the closest store.

I weave through the throngs of people feeling like a salmon swimming upstream, and I’m about to step into the store when a big body darts in front of me.

“Oh, sorry.” The crisp English accent is way too familiar, and my stomach clenches.

I lift my head, and sure enough, it’s fucking Pierce.

“This is beyond coincidental at this point. Shouldn’t you be in the international terminal?” I swivel to go around him, but he grabs my wrist, stopping me, causing a woman to huff and swear under her breath as she weaves around us.

“Wait,” he says. “How did the interview go?”

I raise my eyebrows. “How did yours go?”

“I didn’t know,” he says as if I thought he did.

“Obviously.”

He stares down at my wrist, his thumb running along the inside right before he drops it, and my arm falls to my side. “Listen.”

I see it in his eyes—he’s going to broach the subject when I really wish he’d leave it in the past. “It’s okay. I know you’re sorry.”

“No,” he says.

“You’re not sorry?”

“No, I am. Of course I handled that entire situation like a complete prat, but I mean, I wondered if…I’m in America until after the new year and wondered if perhaps I could get your phone number. Before I return to London, I could fly to see you.”

My eyes widen. “Why?”

A man in a business suit stares us down, and Pierce apologizes, grabbing my hand and guiding us next to the wall where we aren’t in people’s way. It’s an effort to pretend that I don’t like the feel of his skin against mine.

“You know why.”

“I don’t. It’s been six years, Pierce. Why now?” I’m on social media. If he wanted to find me before now, he could have.

I know the answer, though, because it’s the same with me. I tucked him in a box. For me, it was my time in London. He was a memory, a moment in time I’d always remember, but never willingly revisit.

“Seeing you again?—”

I shake my head. “I’m not that same girl anymore. The girl from that night doesn’t exist. So, I can give you my phone number, and you can come to Portland, but the version of me you’re remembering doesn’t exist anymore.”

He huffs out a breath, and his green eyes meet mine, scouring for the truth of my words. “I’d like it anyway.”

“Pierce…” I search the walls for a clock. Any excuse to get out of this conversation. “My plane is going to board soon, I have to get some gum and?—”

“Give me your phone.” He holds out his palm.

I tip my head back. Why is he making this so hard? But he doesn’t lower his hand. I dig into my purse, enter my password into my phone, and hand it over to him, though reluctantly. I can always block him if he tries to reach out to me.

He thumbs around with it, then places it in my hand. “There. Maybe it’s Christmas. Maybe it’s the magic of the holidays, although I’m not big on them. Maybe we’ll never be in contact, but I can’t get on my plane knowing that I was too chickenshit to get your phone number. Somehow, knowing I’m only the press of a button away from hearing your voice calms me, even though neither of us may ever use it.”

I put my phone back in my purse, trying to appear as unfazed as I can, but I know I’m losing the battle.

He leans forward before I can stop him, his lips to my cheek. “Merry Christmas, Brynn. I hope Santa brings you whatever you asked for.”

Then he’s gone.

Lost in the throng of people.

But I can still feel the ghost of his lips on my cheek.

I place my palm on the spot where he kissed me.

“Come on, lady, let’s go,” an older woman shouts from somewhere close to me.

I snap out of my fog and head in to buy some gum.

I’ll never use that number, but at least this memory of Pierce is better than the last. The urge to call or text him rises up immediately, which is exactly why I’ll be deleting his number when I get on the plane.