Chapter 54 Luke
LUKE
The last thing I wanted was to end up stranded in Chicago when I was so close to getting back to Anna. I adjusted my sunglasses and tried to focus on Hal, who was scanning the gate area with his usual vigilance. Tom stood a few feet away, arms crossed, doing the same.
My phone buzzed, and relief flooded me. Finally, there must be some news. Topher’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hey,” I said, stepping aside with Hal shadowing me protectively to avoid the flow of foot traffic.
“Don’t get too excited,” Topher said. “I just talked to someone at Muses. Anna’s not in New Orleans.”
I froze. Hal's head turned slightly toward me, picking up on my shift in body language. “What do you mean she’s not there?”
“She went on vacation. They thought maybe New York or North Carolina. I don’t know. They weren’t exactly chatty about it.”
Vacation? My grip tightened on the phone. “You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not,” Topher said. “I know this throws a wrench in your grand gesture, but—”
“But nothing,” I retorted, running a hand through my hair. “Why didn’t anyone tell me this before I bought a plane ticket? My assistant tried to route me through Atlanta, of all places.”
“Atlanta?” Topher let out a dry laugh. “That’s the worst way to get to New Orleans. You’ve been flying all day to go in circles.”
“Yeah, thanks for the geography lesson,” I bit back, pacing the terminal as irritation churned in my chest. “Maybe I should’ve taken Gerald Fargo up on his offer to fly on his private jet.”
“You think?” Topher deadpanned. “You’ve been running on adrenaline and bad ideas for weeks, Luke. Maybe it’s time to sit down and think this through.”
“Think this through?” I stopped short, glaring at a row of plastic airport chairs in Gate C16 as if they were to blame for my situation. “I’ve been thinking about nothing else but Anna. She’s all I’ve thought about since I left.”
“Then maybe focus that energy on finding her, not snapping at your only ally,” Topher said. “I’m on your side. But maybe this detour is a sign to slow down and figure out your next move.”
A detour. Right. As if I hadn’t already wasted enough time running in the wrong direction. I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll find her.”
“Good luck,” Topher muttered, clearly skeptical. “You’re going to need it.”
I hung up and shoved my phone back into my pocket, my heart pounding. She wasn’t in New Orleans. What was I supposed to do now?
I glanced at the departure board, half-expecting some divine sign to tell me what to do next. Nothing. My eyes flicked to Gate C15, where a crowd of passengers was gathering.
And that’s when I saw her.