CHAPTER THREE
Of course, he'd texted her the terminal. The time. The flight number. She glared at her phone now, scowling towards the message from Marcus as her taxi pulled along the curb outside Terminal 3D. She'd packed light. Everything neatly folded, properly arranged, but compact, in the single carry-on luggage item she'd brought with her from New York when she'd returned home to her namesake state.
She gave a quick nod of gratitude, a quiet grunt, and a hefty tip to the man behind the wheel, then hit the curb jogging, glancing at her phone again.
Already ten minutes late. Dammit. She'd made up her mind but was going to miss the flight anyway. She picked up the pace, tugging self-consciously at her sleeves as she hurried through the sliding glass doors of the airport. Evening on a
