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MARTIN
I show up to the airport for the flight to Ian’s wedding a day late and dollar short.
And only half of that is a metaphor.
Since my run in with Trinity at the engagement party, I’ve done my best to respect her wishes.
Anytime there was an event for the wedding party, I either skipped it entirely or made only the briefest of appearances. Thankfully, the event is small and low key, so there were only a few things on the schedule anyway.
I figured the hardest time to avoid her would be the plane ride, since Ian’s assistant had booked us all in first class on the same flight.
So I moved my flight to a day later. Yes, I’d miss some of the pre-wedding relaxation time, but … well, let’s be honest. An extra day of watching Trinity traipse around the beach in a swimsuit would probably kill me anyway.
You know what I didn’t plan on?
I didn’t plan on Trinity having the same idea.
Clearly, she did.
When I arrive at our gate at the Austin airport, I see her sitting there. Head down over an open iPad, her messenger bag at her feet. She’s dressed in a pair of worn cargo shorts and a worn shirt with a picture of a hen on it that reads, “Cluck around and find out.” Her only concession to our beach destination is that she’s traded her Doc Martens for a pair of converse.
I had “Ian” send more clothes to her apartment last week, a bunch of outfits I had a personal shopper pick out for her that would be beach resort appropriate. Since I’m pretty certain that personal shopper would have died before sending her this outfit, I wonder if Trinity figured out the outfits were coming from me and not Ian.
Or maybe she just wanted to be comfortable on the plane.
I walk past where she’s sitting and head straight for the gate counter. I had to pay nearly an extra thousand bucks to change my flight at the last minute. If I had to guess, Trinity didn’t have that kind of money to spare. So she probably could only afford a ticket in coach.
I give the airline employee my most charming smile. “The lady sitting over there, Trinity Lewis— any chance you could tell me her seat number on the plane?“
The employee frowns at me in open suspicion.
“We’re headed to the same destination wedding. Her sister, my best friend. I wanted to make sure she’s in first class.”
The woman’s gaze softens. “What did you say her name was?”
“Trinity Lewis.”
Her fingers fly across the keyboard and then she frowns as she looks back up at me. “I don’t think I’m allowed to actually tell you where she’s sitting.”
“Is there an open seat in first class?” I slide my credit card across the counter. “If there is, I’d like to pay to upgrade her ticket to first class.”
The woman rattles off the price, clearly expecting me to balk. I give the card another nudge in her direction. “Don’t worry. I’ll make the groom cover it.” I toss in a wink to mask my obvious lie.
Yes, Ian would insist on paying if he knew, but it’s not like I’m going to tell him.
If the airport employee thinks it’s odd that I’m paying to upgrade Trinity’s ticket but haven’t greeted her, she doesn’t say anything. A few minutes later, while I’m sitting in the waiting area with my laptop open reviewing some emails, I overhear Trinity getting called to the service desk and informed that she’s been upgraded to first class.
An hour later, I’m tucked away in my first class window seat when Trinity stops on my row and clears her throat. I glance up to see her glaring at me with her hands on her hips.
“Was this you?” She waggles the paper ticket she was given at the service desk.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s good to see you.”
“Right.” She snaps out the words sarcastically before sliding into the seat next to mine. “I was seriously moved up to first to sit right next to you. And you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
My eyes flicker closed for a second. Damn it.
“Yes, I got your seat upgraded. I didn’t think she’d seat you next to me.”
