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She really, really needed that to work right now.
The hum of the engine poured into her until she was numb.
A light knock eventually broke her trance. “Miss. We have to prepa
re to land.”
“I can’t come out there,” Chloe said through the door.
The attendant was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. “You can sit up with me. How’s that?”
Chloe swallowed down a lump. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Positive. I’ve got an extra seat away from the main cabin.”
She peeked out the door. The woman’s kind face held no judgement.
“Come on. Let me get you some water and we’ll get you home.”
“Thanks.” Chloe slipped out the door and through the curtain to the small space where the drink and snack cart was tucked away. A little flip down seat flanked either side of the doorway with a lap belt tucked neatly to the side.
She could definitely handle that.
“Janice, right?”
The woman smiled. “Right.” She handed Chloe a small bottle of water.
“I’m sorry if I made a scene.”
She shrugged. “That’s nothing. I’ve been taking care of these guys for years. You got nothing on the antics I’ve seen.”
Chloe’s lips twitched. “I bet.” She swallowed down most of the bottle. “I’m still going to stay back here if that’s okay.”
“More than.”
“Good.”
Landing was a lot different when it came to private planes. There was no real wait once they were on the tarmac. Everyone disembarked in record time. Chloe tapped her fingers on her purse and texted to make sure her father was outside while she waited.
“They’re gone,” Janice finally said.
Chloe slipped her strap over her shoulder. “Everyone?”
“Everyone.”
She peeked around the curtain and sure enough it was empty. Sun streaked in through the cabin windows and doorway. Her suitcase was waiting at the mouth of the stairs. She gave Janice a tight smile and escaped down the stairs.
It was a crystal clear day—well, as much as Los Angeles could be clear. But the haze wasn’t too bad that day. Along the edge of the private air strip her father’s old Toyota was parked.
Her father, a man that tended to be a little too thin no matter how much she fed him, stood with his fingers wrapped around her son’s hand. Axl was tugging to get free and pointing at a helicopter above them.
Both of them had red hair, though her father’s was definitely fading to graying goose down fluff as he headed toward fifty. Her father was wearing his usual uniform of baggy khakis and ratty sweater over a simple white T-shirt. And her kid—her sweet, perfect kid—was wearing a Cookie Monster shirt and jeans with a blob of unknown origin at the hem.
Finally, the helicopter had faded from sight enough that Axl noticed her walking across the pavement. He dragged her father behind him as they both raced to her.
Chloe dropped her purse and suitcase and crouched down for the best hug in all the world. “Hey, kiddo. Mommy missed you.” She looked up at her father. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
Her dad tilted his head. “Everything okay?”
