Page 5 of Trusting His Heart
“Which terminal?”
“I don’t know,” now her poise dropped and he saw panic settle in.
“My flight to Sydney leaves in two hours, I guess I need to find the international terminal.”
“Bec, if you don’t mind me saying, if you are on the QFX34, then I’m on the same flight and we have five minutes to get to check in.” He picked up his bag and started a light jog. He couldn’t see her beside him or hear her close behind. Turning, Geoff saw Bec struggle with her two large bags. Damn, he didn’t have time for this.
“Layla, it’s Geoff, can you call the airline and confirm my flight and Rebecca Garran, yes G A R R A N. We are about five minutes away, please check us in online, call in any favors and buy us time to get there. Thanks.”
Geoffrey put his phone away as he rejoined Bec who raised her eyebrow.
“Don’t ask, give me those bags, you take mine. I’m not about to let the woman who helped me then miss her flight.”
Together, they pushed through the crowds and found the premium desk.
“Professor Swains, I can see you are checked through to Sydney. Are these your bags?”
“No,” he took his own smaller bag from Bec. “This one is mine. Do you mind fast tracking my friend through, this is her first time going international and she is a little nervous.”
“Certainly, Professor. Would you like to be seated together?”
Geoffrey thought quickly, he never looked forward to the long flight to Australia and he might end up with a worse companion.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” forced smile. Helping her had to be better than an apology.
From there, they sailed through customs. Neither Geoffrey nor Bec flagged any extra attention and she surprised him with her own membership into the Premium Lounge.
“More comfortable waiting here for our flight than outside,” she noted.
“I admit, I thought I would have to sign you in. Care to join me for a drink while we wait?”
Again, her throaty laugh. The poise returned, softened only by the curls bouncing around her face.
“So, Professor Geoff Swains, you clearly have a story.”
“Not so fast, Rebecca, call me Bec.” Geoffrey escorted Bec to a small table away from the bar.
“You don’t fly much – evidenced by not knowing which terminal to go to. You are not going on a holiday – especially not wearing an expensive suit. Yet you have airline membership. Your story is much more interesting than mine!”
“Professor Swains,” she began, stopping when he placed one hand over hers on the table.
“Bec, we have a long flight together. Call me Geoff and stop with the Professor nonsense.” Realizing what he had done, he quickly removed his hand and noticed her wedding band.
“Geoff. Let me extend the same courtesy. Your accent is Australian or New Zealand. If you are going home and we are flying to Sydney, I’d say Australian. Professor would indicate you are an academic but there are a number of universities in Sydney. One small bag would indicate you were here for a short visit, probably for work. Most academics don’t make serious money and semester breaks are the time to work on the research without students interrupting. So, if you are a member of the Lounge, either the university thinks highly of you, or, you enjoy your semester breaks more than most.”
She sat back in her chair, with a toss of her head she challenged him to respond. If she wanted to play the game of “guess the stranger” then she picked the wrong man at the wrong time, his emotions worn thin after spending yesterday at his wife’s grave.
His face lost pretense of good manners and in a moment of frustration at the events of the past three weeks, he continued.
“The ash blonde hair hides the greys that started a couple of years ago when you turned thirty. You keep your hair long to stay youthful and to seem relevant in the boardroom where you know you only have a small number of years left to either make your mark or go off and have babies.
“You travel with a wedding ring, heavy luggage and no husband. Either you are leaving him, or he left you – probably because of the hours you spend at work. You think you can sum me up after one short car trip,” in his own pain, Geoffrey ignored the look of anguish across her face, “But lady you don’t have a clue.”
“Please excuse me,” Bec left the table.
Dammit. What happened back there? Inside a classroom, Geoffrey maintained a reputation of vicious and cutting remarks. But outside the classroom, he didn’t make friends but was never intentionally hurtful or rude.
Geoffrey waited for her to return until he heard their flight called. The next twenty-four hours would be uncomfortable at best. He walked slowly towards the terminal knowing the plane would not leave without a checked in guest, and giving himself time to create an excuse or apology sufficient to ward off further conversation.