Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
—Silver to Webber
SILVER
“You should totally get married here,” Eedie said as she stood at my side, looking out at the beach.
“I think it’d be lovely,” I admitted. “A destination wedding would be perfect, too, because neither one of us has much family. We could get your grandmother here, and my sister and her husband. The club if they can make it. And get married right there on the beach.”
The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it.
“You could wear a flowy white wedding dress that’ll wave artfully in the ocean breeze. And Dad could wear jeans, no shoes, and a button-down shirt.” Eedie clapped her hands together, her eyes huge and excited.
God, I loved Webber’s kid.
She was so beautiful.
It flabbergasted me that Elizabeth could treat her like she was a piece of trash that she was too good to pick up.
“What else do you think?” I wondered.
“I think that Audric’s place is awesome, and that he should definitely come out here to visit more.” She paused. “And bring me with him, because I could seriously get used to this weather. A UV of nine and ten almost every single day? Eighty-degree weather. Ocean breeze?”
“Maybe when Hai gets into the Air Force, he can get stationed here or something,” I offered.
“One can hope,” she breathed. “Because that sounds a lot like heaven to me.”
I patted her elbow. “What do you think about the…”
Every single phone in the area went off, and more importantly all of them were belonging to the women that were at our table.
Eedie and I were the only ones whose phones didn’t go off, and it left me with a sinking feeling that sent shivers straight down my spine.
Eedie and I looked at each other, and it was like we both knew.
“What happened?” I whispered, not sure I wanted to know the answer.
“Is it Dad?” Eedie asked.
They all looked at Eedie, and the sorrowful look on their faces confirmed it.
Something had happened to Webber.
If I never saw another airport again, I would be happy.
“Please.” I felt like Kevin’s mom from Home Alone. “Please, I have to get home. Please.”
Except, it wasn’t my kid who’d been left alone at home. It was the man that I loved with my whole heart.
Eedie stood beside me, tears slowly snaking down her cheeks.
The woman behind the desk gave me a pitying look. “There’s not another flight that leaves tonight. Only this one.”
Anger fueled my veins.
“I paid seven thousand dollars to get on that flight right there.” I pointed at the plane that was down for maintenance.
It’d been down for maintenance for six hours now, and all six of those hours, Webber had been in surgery.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s literally nothing I can do,” she said.
“Except, there was something you could do. You got them on a plane.” I pointed at the senators who’d been in Hawaii for vacation.
They were no one special just because they held positions in office.
Eedie and I had been on standby for this flight.
Eedie and I had done the work. We’d waited. And we’d waited. And we’d waited.
All the while Webber had been in a hospital fighting for his life.
And now they were telling me that there was ‘nothing they could do?’
“Ma’am…” She looked annoyed.
“Hey, what’s going on here?”
It was the politician who’d taken our spot.
“What’s going on is we were next to be put on this flight on standby,” I said. “Only, you walked up with your important little name badge there and suddenly y’all are on the plane. Not only are you on the plane, but the people who were in first class where you are about to sit are now in coach. People who paid a lot of money for those seats. Yet, all you had to do was come in here, waving your stupid credentials, and you’re all of a sudden important. Let me tell you something, just because your name is on an office door in Congress doesn’t mean that you don’t take shits like the rest of us.”
The man’s smarmy smile slipped. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’ll bet you are,” I grumbled. “Yet, even now that you know that you took someone’s spot, you don’t care enough to give up your seat, do you?”
He smiled wider, and I wanted to pop him in the mouth.
“When you get a chance, tell the airlines that Congressman McCready took one of your spots, and they’ll compensate you,” he tried.
I gritted my teeth. “Is that all you have to say? My fiancé is in the fucking hospital right now dying, and you’re here trying to get to home to Dallas so you can play golf with the fucking Cowboys, cutting your three-week vacation to Hawaii short. Fuck the Cowboys. Fuck your golf game. And fuck your stupid ‘tell them Congressman McCready sent you.’”