Chapter 2 Collie
COLLIE
“What do you mean my flight is canceled? Planes fly through bad weather all the time.”
“Ma’am, I’m truly sorry for any inconvenience this has caused. Unfortunately, we cannot allow passengers to board until we get word from the inbound crew confirming the weather has cleared up. It’s a precaution that’s strictly for the safety of all passengers on board.”
“What kind of bad weather could there possibly be in Tennessee during the winter?”
“Fog, ma’am. There’s vapor fog in the air due to the cold temperatures.”
I yank my suitcase to my side, the same one now suffering from a broken wheel, and hike my weekender bag over my shoulder. “You mean to tell me…I’m missing my flight back home because of fog?”
The poor guy looks ready to bolt. “Yes, ma’am.”
I inch my face closer to his, reading his name tag just in case I need to be that girl and ask for a manager. I’m not above it today. “Thomas, is it?”
The terrified airline worker nods.
“Can I call you Thomas? That good with you?”
Another nod. “Excellent. Now, listen here, Thomas. Picture yourself in my shoes. You just get off a work conference in Nashville, only to get fired right before heading to the airport to travel back home. Your boss basically buys you off with a five-thousand-dollar check that you quite literally would rather burn than take from her at this point. Then, you show up at the airport, only to be run over by a group of church kids hustling past you and bust your ass on the concrete. But wait. You thought it was only concrete, and come to find out it’s icy mud.
Yep, you heard that right. Mud. So, not only did I get mud all over my favorite sweatpants, I also broke a freaking wheel on my suitcase.
And now this! How does that kind of morning sound to you? ”
Thomas looks close to tears. I’m very much acting out of character, but I’m too far gone. Might as well see my sassy behavior through.
“Uh…that sounds pretty bad, ma’am.”
“You betcha, it is. So, I apologize if I seem a little dramatic—”
“That’s an understatement, Ms. Meadows.”
I smirk. “Appreciate that, Thomas. You sure are observant, aren’t you? So, what’s next then? If my flight is canceled, where do I go from here?”
He shifts his sights to what I’m assuming to be a coworker, like he needs another set of eyes on our interaction in case he winds up on a missing persons list.
I’m not that pissed off.
“Focus, Thomas,” I snip. “We’re holding up the line here.”
“Oh,” he stammers. “You’ll be notified via our airline app of your flight’s new departure time.”
“And when might that be?”
Thomas shrugs. “Hard to say.”
Great. This is just great. I’ve got no job. I’m stuck in Nashville with no flight home, a dirty ass, and broken luggage. No car, either, leaving me deserted at the airport.
Deep breaths, Collie. Deep breaths.
“Freaking Music City,” I screech, not caring who witnesses my chaos. “Okay. Okay. It’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out,” I ramble, attempting to steady my panic. “I’ll find some coffee and call my sister. She’ll know exactly what to do.”
“Okay…”
I nod to Thomas and retreat, praying to the stars above that I can figure out a game plan. “Thank you for your time, Thomas. I’ll be sure to leave you a five-star review.”
“What’s a girl gotta do to get a decent coffee around here?”
I tap my hand on the metal bar top, signaling for the bartender to show me some attention. He sends me a suppressed look before holding up a finger to the customer in front of him and sauntering toward me.
I’m convinced today is cursed.
“Ma’am, this is a bar,” the burly bartender tells me, as if I don’t already know that. “You won’t find coffee here, but there’s a barista counter a couple gates over if you want to check them out.”
“Listen, buddy. I’ve had a morning from hell and already had it out with the airline worker. All I need is a decent cup of coffee, and I’ll be on my way. That so much to ask?”
“Actually, yeah. Seeing as how we don’t have coffee here.”
Without giving me a chance to respond, he turns on his heels, but not enough to silence me. Not when I know for a fact that man has a stash of coffee beans somewhere behind this bar.
Taking matters into my own hands, I grab a straw from the canister near the bar nuts and pull off the paper, wad it into a ball, and stuff the rolled paper into the end of a straw.
Seems like someone needs a hard-earned lesson about the customer always being right.
Today ain’t the day to mess with me, buddy.
The satisfaction I feel knowing the smile the burly bartender is sporting will be wiped clean in under two seconds, almost makes up for my bad mood.
Almost.
Not caring who sees me, I give it my best effort and launch the rolled-up paper ball straight at his chest. Got him.
No part of me expected a warm response from the guy, so his sneer doesn’t surprise me. But at least it got him to come back over here.
“Did you just shoot a spitball at me?” He throws a rag over his shoulder and leans forward to give me his undivided attention.
“Technically, there was no spit involved. But yes. It got your attention, didn’t it?” I grin, knowing full well he won’t return the gesture.
The bartender rolls his eyes. “Listen, lady—”
“Lady?” I cut him off. “I’m thirty-three. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”
Another eye roll. “Fine. Young lady,” he emphasizes. “I already told you. I don’t have coffee here. This is a bar. You want liquor, beer, seltzer—I got you. But you can send as many spitballs my way as you want, and it still won’t change that.”
I’m one purse caught on a door handle away from losing it.
That may be true, but there’s one thing he forgot. I, however, smelled it the second I almost walked past the secluded bar. The fresh ground smell is exactly what caught my attention.
“Explain her espresso martini to me then.” I point to the lady diagonal from me, sipping her creamy brown martini with mini beans floating at the top.
I wouldn’t call it color that drains from his face because that would be overzealous, but I definitely caught him off guard.
“We use espresso for martinis, yes. But we don’t sell espresso by itself. Again, for the hundredth time, there’s a barista counter just around the corner.”
“I have a wet mud stain on my ass and don’t exactly feel like parading around the airport right now.”
He chuckles, and it’s not because he feels like entertaining me. The dude is lucky I don’t reach across the counter and give him something to laugh about. I may be small, but I can handle myself.
Am I seriously preparing to throw down with a lumberjack?
“Sounds like a personal problem,” he comments, pride in his tone.
Oh, funny guy.
I exhale and it feels like I’m learning to breathe for the first time.
I feel the air choking up in my chest. In all honesty, I don’t have the energy to keep defending myself anymore.
I just want this day to be over and go to sleep.
But seeing as how that’s not an option right now, it looks like an espresso martini at ten in the morning will have to do.
“Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll take one and keep ’em comin’.”
My agreement earns me a smile. “Now, was that so hard?” he asks me, arrogance riding high.
“Today is not the day to fuck with me, burly bartender. I’m running on four hours of sleep and a handful of shitty circumstances.
You have no idea the damage those two things alone can do to a woman’s patience and confidence.
So, go be a guy and fetch that drink for me.
” My glare seems to be enough to keep him quiet.
Look at me…fighting with the bartender on this beautiful Monday morning. Sitting in the Nashville airport without a plan is not how I pictured my long weekend ending.
No, because I should be celebrating a successful training conference with my team. Relishing in the new fundamentals future fitness instructors have learned, mechanics they’ve perfected, and every nutritional track they’ve met to help their clients succeed for long-term results.
Because I’m a kick-ass instructor myself, and who better to learn from than me?
Seems my boss thought so too, after she used my skills to cover her ass through the conference, then fired me on the spot. Not sure the bitterness from that sting will ever go away.
Zero warning. Zero appreciation for everything I’ve done to help grow her business.
I’ve got no choice but to shove it under the rug and trudge forward. It’s their loss, right? I’m a Meadows girl, and we don’t let small people win.
I’ll figure this out. I could go back home and try to reset before job hunting again?
But goodness, I’m not sure if I can take being home right now.
I love my sister, Capri, but if I have to taste test one more piece of fruit-filled cake while she’s home for wedding planning or try on another maid of honor dress, I may explode.
The wedding is in a couple of months. We have time.
I just need a break. If only I knew what that looked like.
Right now, this espresso martini is the only company I need. The only plan I need.
I’ve suddenly got a freed-up schedule, and a check for five grand tempting me to blow it on pointless shit just for the hell of it.
I guess I have no choice but to do what I always do.
Figure it out.