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He pointed to my tote withthecustom keychainhanging on it that I’d gotten on vacation.
“Oh.Sorry.”
“I get it. Can never be too careful.What do you do?”
“I… I am… I never know how to answer that, but Iwork in my family’s orange and lemon grove. And I work in hospitality. Well, it’s my parents’ bed and breakfast, but I plan on taking it over, so…”
“And how old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
His eyebrows raised. “Interesting.On vacation to New York? Or a layover?”
“Oh, no.I’m moving there. My momkindaforced me. Wants me to see the world. What about you? What do you do?”
“Entertainment.”
“Oh, are you famous? Sorry, I don’t recognize you if you are. Now I am even more embarrassed.What isyour stage name?”
“No, I’m not famous.I work in a different type of entertainment.When I’m entertaining, I go byMaster Leek.”
“Oh.So, what type of entertainment…”Ipaused when it suddenly hit me.“Ohhh.” I hissed while nodding my head.“I think I get it.”
He smiled and nodded his head.
I hadn’t been around the worldbefore, but I did watch a lot of TV, and I could read between the lines.Also, when I havespare time, I read a dark romance here and there. Luckily,the flight attendant came and asked us what we wanted to drink.
“Ginger Ale.”
He ordered the same thing. “So, tell me about Citrus Grove…”
I perked up. That was my specialty.
Three hours later, the flight attendant interruptedone of the last stories that I told Malik that I was going to tell him about CG. I didn’t even realize that I’d had been talking that long. He acted like he was very interested in what I was telling him, even though I knew he was zoning out at times. Turning toward the window, I looked out at my new home city.
So. So. Congested.
Just like my chest.
I didn’t know how I was going to survive living here. I grabbed my phone and snapped several pictures, so I could send them to my mother.Twenty minutes later, I’d deplaned, used the restroom, and headed toward the baggage claim. This airport was humongous. The whole Citrus Grove could fit inhere twice. When I finally found the baggage claim, my bags were already coming around.
“Citrus Grove.” I turned to see Malik walking up. “Thank you for keeping me entertained throughout the flight. Hopefully, I’ll get the chance to show you around the city.” He handed me his card. It wasa black card with gold lettering.
“Thank you. Maybe we can.” I eased his card in my pocket.
When my bags came around, he grabbed them off the carousel for me.
“Thank you, again, Mr. Malik.”
In between my stories, I’d learned that he was forty years old, a native of New York, and was visiting Florida on vacation.
After getting my bags, I rolled toward theexit. There were several menand womenin black suits holding iPads in their hands. I didn’t realize thatnameswere on them until I got to, like, the third man.When I stopped to back up, a man popped outwith his hand up.
“Ms. Everly.”
I looked at himbefore eying the tabletthat read Quinci Everly.
“Yes.That’s me.”
