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The rest of our delay and the flight fly by in more ways than one. Not only is Santiago nice to look at, he makes great conversation, and unlike Stephen, he’s knowledgeable on a wide range of topics and actually listens to what I have to say. Before I know it, the plane is taxiing, but all I want is to spend a few more minutes with him, lulled by the richness of his voice.
“Where are you staying?” he asks as I fumble for my phone.
“At the hotel holding the conference. Riverside.”
“Me too.”
I’ve been focused on my phone, head bent, but when I hear those words, my head snaps up, my heart beating a little faster, butterflies floating in my stomach. “Oh, great,” I say, trying to sound disaffected, but not sure I pull it off.
“Do you want to share a cab? It’d be cheap–”
My phone buzzes in my hand, cutting him off. “It’s my boss,” I say, looking at the incoming text messages. I sigh, exasperated, typing my response quickly.
“Everything all right?”
I look up; his eyes are filled with genuine concern, particularly surprising since he’s only known me a few hours. “Yeah. I had a meeting with my boss tomorrow afternoon, but she’s moved it up a day, and with our delay, it means I have to race off the plane, and make the land-speed record from Kenner to the French Quarter.”
He laughs, but it’s a softer, more muted laugh than his others. A disappointed laugh, perhaps. “I’ll see you later, then? I like to be one of the last off the plane.”
My eyebrows furrow and I cock my head, confused. “Even when you’re in first class?”
He shrugs, flashes that disarming smile of his. He rubs his hands on his pants nervously. “Old habits die hard, right?”
The plane pulls into the gate and passengers start standing around us, reaching for items in overhead bins, shouldering bags.
He grins, his eyes smiling along with his mouth. “I’ll see you soon, Di,” he says, offering a hand to help me stand.
“I hope so,” I say, the words a whisper off my lips.
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