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“I suspect you will require lodgings while you wait for another flight or repairs.” Since this had never happened at myairport, I wasn’t sure the right protocols and my brief training on the subject escaped my brain. “I’ve spoken with a couple of motels, and these are the top three I’d recommend.”
The available rooms were no Marriots or Hiltons, but they had the best views of the ocean which helped bump their 2.8 stars closer to 3. One in Cheshire Bay, and two in Stewart Surf.
“Thank you.” The pilot took my list, gave it a once over and handed it to Mr. Welsh. “This is most helpful.”
“I really need a drink.” The tall one spoke in a different accent I couldn’t place. It certainly wasn’t local. It wasn’t even Canadian.
I quickly searched his hand and there was no ring. Was he single? Maybe.
Cupid sat above my shoulder and readied his arrow.
“There’s a great local pub in Cheshire Bay and the owner is the absolute best in the business.” I grabbed a pad of paper from my desk and scratched down the name and address of the place. “Ask for Amber.”
Mr. Welsh took the information and folded it up, sticking it into his shirt pocket. He turned his back to me and whispered to the crew, maintaining his rigid posture. Finally, he spun on the heel of an expensive shiny shoe, removed his sunglasses, and spoke in broken English. “Would it trouble you, please call taxi service?”
Where was this foreign chap from?
Since I was finished my shift for the day and had nothing better to do than see the look on Amber’s face when he walked into her bar, I volunteered. “I’ll do you one better. Amber’s Ale isn’t too far away, I’ll drive you over.”
“Your hospitality be appreciated.”
“Actually,” Eric walked over, giving me a what-the-hell-are-you-thinking look. “I’ll take you there. I’m sure Cedar has aton of paperwork to pull up.”
Not really, but I understood what he was doing, the sweet guy he was. Eric probably had paperwork of his own to fill out, witness statements and all that jazz.
“Give me five minutes,” Eric said to Mr. Welsh, dashing over to another desk to make a quick phone call.
“Thanks, Eric.”
Besides, Mitch probably would’ve lost his mind had I escorted a stranger somewhere, even if nothing truly exciting ever happened in this part of the world. This crash landing would be gossip for months.
Mr. Welsh stood there, hands clasped behind his back while speaking in clipped foreign words to the pilot and captain. The pilot tapped him on the arm when Eric hopped back over.
“Alright. Let’s go. Right this way.”
“Remember, ask for Amber.” I waved as Eric and Mr. Welsh stepped back onto the tarmac and disappeared under the watchful eyes of the flight crew. “Can I get you anything? Is there anyone I can call for you?”
They pulled out their phones, as the pilot opened the door and stepped outside. “We’re good for now.” Her voice had a lilting accent as well, but nowhere near as strong as Mr. Welsh’s.
“Just holler if you need anything.” In the meantime, I had a quick call to place myself. I dialled my friend.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Nothing much.” I twirled the phone cord, making jump rope movements. “You have a VIP coming in who’ll be asking specifically for you. His plane just belly landed here, and he needs a stiff drink.”
I wanted to drop hints about the melodic accent or the dashing good looks that come from amazing genes. Assuming he wasn’t married, he’d be good for keeping Amber entertained for a couple of hours, if she gave him the time of day. However,she’d always been a sucker for an accent.
“Thanks for the heads up. I gotta run.”
“Have fun.” A smile beamed out of me like a ray of sunshine.
# # #
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Continue reading for a sneak peak at Awake in Cheshire Bay and Christmas in Cheshire Bay.
