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Setting Maybe on the cushions beside me, I bend to paw through my backpack. “No, sorry, it’s that charity organization I volunteer for. The one I told you might be calling. I have their ringtone set as a siren, so I won’t miss any calls. Just a second.” I grab the phone, bringing it to my ear as I rise and head for the windows.
Cell service is sketchy all over Sea Breeze, especially on the south end of downtown, in the shadow of the hills surrounding the bay. But being even a few feet closer to the water usually helps. “Hello, Sydney speaking.”
“Sydney, I’m so glad I was able to reach you,” Moira, the woman I spoke to earlier, says in a tight voice. “I tried to call a few minutes ago, but it wouldn’t go through.”
I wince. “I’m so sorry. I’m downtown where service is bad. I should have given you the landline number for the café.”
“No worries. I’m just glad I have you now. That pilot we discussed…there’s no chance he’s reaching Quebec in this weather. He’s going to be landing at the Jonesville Regional Airport, about ten miles from your location. Any chance you’d be able to pick him up and find pet-friendly lodging for the night?”
“Absolutely,” I say, my heart beating faster. “I can be there in fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“Wonderful. Thank you so much,” Moira says, clearly relieved. “He has three pit bull puppies with him. Oh, and maybe look for a place that has availability for two nights, just in case. The storm may not move on as quickly as we hope.”
“Of course, I’ll start calling bed and breakfasts as soon as we’re done here.”
“Perfect. Thank you so much, you really are a godsend. The pilot’s name is Gideon, by the way,” Moira says. “I’ll text you his arrival time as soon as I have it. We lost touch with him in the storm, but based on his last known coordinates, it likely won’t be long now.”
“Got it,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
We end the call and I turn back to the others just as Gertie and Elaina arrive with trays filled with fresh drinks and snacks. “Sorry, guys, but I have to bail. That pilot needs to be picked up, after all.”
“And she has to find pet-friendly lodging,” Maya says, scrolling through her phone. “I’m checking my contacts for you, Syd. I’ll find something and text details as soon as I have a reservation.”
I exhale, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. Thank goodness for friends with connections in the rental market. Maya’s parents have several vacation homes they rent out to tourists, but they’re also close with the various bed and breakfast owners in town.
If anyone can find last-minute, pet-friendly digs, it’s Maya.
“Thank you so much.” I grab my backpack before starting toward the coat tree by the door. “I’ll text when I’m home safe and send pictures of the puppies. The woman on the phone said the pilot is flying three baby pit bulls.”
Gertie groans. “No, don’t! No pictures. I want a dog even more than I want a cat, and pit bulls are so cute. I love the way they smile when they’re happy. And their chonky little bodies.”
“Ew, cats rule, dogs drool.” Elaina sets her tray down on the coffee table in front of Maya before shooting a serious look my way. “Be careful out there, Syd. The wind is even more intense by the airport. Don’t get too close to the runway. No getting crushed by airplanes allowed until we’ve done our girls’ trip to Iceland next December.”
“But after that, it’s fine,” Gertie teases, earning a slap on the arm from Elaina.
“Of course, it’s not fine. But I’ve been saving for that trip for three years!”
“Me, too,” Maya says. “I can’t wait to go. I want to see the northern lights so bad.”
“I want to eat all the smoked salmon and soak in one of those steamy mineral lakes,” Gertie says, easing into my empty spot on the couch.
“I want to seduce a Viking. Maybe two,” Elaina says with a wink. “And I hear they have a fabulous penis museum in Reykjavik.”
Maya huffs. “You’re kidding.”
“Scout’s honor,” she says. “It’s supposed to be great.”
Leaving the ladies debating what makes a penis museum “great,” I shrug into my raincoat and step out into the storm.
I’m instantly slapped by a gust of wind that takes my breath away. Elaina’s right. The wind is vicious and likely to be worse on the other side of the heath. Hopefully the pilot has experience flying in nasty weather.
Chin to my chest to shield my face from the worst of the rain, I hurry to my rental car. I have a vintage BMW in the city, but it would never survive the gravel roads and mud pits of rural Maine. I rented a Subaru Forester for the summer, an extravagant expense that ate up almost every dime of my pay from the Maine Wetland Preservation Project.
But this job was never about the money.
I have enough money.
My mother left me a lump sum when she died, and there’s still plenty left to see me through until the trust her mother left us opens on my twenty-fifth birthday. After that, I’ll never have to worry about money again. I’ll be a millionaire on my way to being a billionaire, just like my dad and Adrian’s asshole father, a fact I was careful to hide from my former boyfriend, once I realized how he loathed trust fund babies.
