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“I won’t give advice on subjects I have no authority on.” She grinned. “In case that wasn’t clear, I mean men.”
A smile cracked my face. “Fair enough.”
“I’m not telling you to forget about him or whatever shit he’s trying to pull. Just forget about it for now. Go get on a plane and be there for your best friend.”
I nodded once. “You’re right.”
“Before you go, I have the perfect dress for you to take.”
I huddledin my jacket and clutched my suitcase. The airport was practically deserted and it was barely ten. The night was so quiet, it was unnerving.
I’d texted Trish as soon as my plane landed. She promised a car would be by to pick me up soon.
A taxi inched forward almost eagerly. Again, a difference from New York. If I was on a street corner there, a thousand would have passed me by.
I’d made the right decision to come. I knew that. But I’d never been on a plane, let alone this far away. City life was all I’d ever known. This fresh air and quiet had my already frazzled nerves working overtime.
I glanced to my left, headlights growing brighter as they approached. A black SUV pulled to the curb in front of me.
“Miss Holland?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Gerald from the Four Seasons Hotel. Let me take your things.”
He held open the back door for me before loading my suitcase in the trunk.
“Wyoming’s been waiting for you,” he said as he maneuvered the car out of the airport.
I snorted. Somehow I doubted that. “Funny, I never gave Wyoming any thought at all.” Until lately.
He laughed. “First time?”
“Probably my last too.”
“Don’t be so sure about that.”
When he stoppedin front of the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar and put the SUV in park, I frowned.
“Here we are.”
“This shuttle doesn’t go all the way to the hotel?”
He grinned. “I have my instructions. Can’t deviate.”
I was on the sidewalk, staring up at the sign, before I could blink.Trish better be in here.I pulled on the door handle; country music, dancing couples, and people of all kinds parked at the bar greeted me.
I hesitated, scouring one side of the room to the other. Trish barreled toward me, and I met her halfway. She threw her arms around me.
“You’re here.”
“I’m here.” I clutched her back before I held her at arm’s length. “How much champagne have you had?”
She giggled. “A little.”
“Looks like I need to catch up.”
She grabbed my hand and dragged me across the dance floor to a row of tables. “Look who’s here.”
