He walked out of the room, his body tense with his anxiety.
Dane started to follow him, but Blair grabbed his arm as he moved past her. “He agreed to a private meeting, Dane,” she said.
Dane narrowed his eyes, shaking off her hand. “What are you up to, Hansen?”
“She still loves him.”
Dane snorted. “What happened to you?”
“I got married.”
Before Garrett, she would have forged on, convincing Allison to come to some kind of agreement. She’d been right—Garrett had softened her. He’d made her a better person.
Dane rolled his eyes in disgust and stormed out into the hall, Blair on his heels. He stopped in his tracks, seeing Allison in Marco’s arms.
“Dammit, Hansen,” Dane growled. “This case is finished, isn’t it?”
“I hope so. They still love each other.”
Dane laughed. “Don’t be so naïve, Blair. Love doesn’t solve everything.”
Blair sure as hell hoped he was wrong.
Chapter Five
It was another half hour before Allison and Marco left together, the hands laced together as they walked out. Dane left soon after his client told him the divorce was off. Blair saw them all out, then returned to find Melissa smiling ear to ear.
“What?” Blair asked.
“You. You fixed them, Cupid.”
“Cupid?” Blair’s back stiffened. “I hate Valentine’s Day. I would never play Cupid.”
“But you fixed them.”
“No. They fixed themselves. They just needed a little push.”
She had left her phone on her desk, so she grabbed it and checked for any calls from Garrett, hoping he’d caught a flight in Denver. She’d missed his call telling her his flight had finally taken off, but now she saw his text. He’d caught his flight. Which meant he’d be landing anytime now.
If she wanted to follow through with her Anti-Valentine’s Day plans, she need to get busy. “Melissa, why don’t you head home?”
She sat up, looking startled. “But it’s not even five yet.”
“Don’t you have any Valentine’s plans?”
Melissa released a bitter laugh. “Hardly.”
Blair studied her. “You never date. Don’t you want to find someone?”
“When the time’s right, I’ll know it, and now is not that time. Nor is there a right guy,” she said, shutting off her computer monitor. “But you don’t have to coerce me into leaving. Did you hear from Garrett?”
“He’s on a flight home now, and should be landing anytime.”
“Well, then you better get going too.” Melissa grabbed her purse out of her desk drawer and stood. “You want to be home when he gets there.” She grinned over her shoulder as she headed down the hall. “Even if you don’t celebrate V-Day.”
“Melissa?” Blair called after her.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for bearing with me and my surliness.”
She grinned. “Hey, you royally ticked off Dane Albright. That makes up for a lot of cranky attitude.”
Blair laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.”
She watched Melissa leave, then decided to take her advice. She’d planned on surprising Garrett with an Anti-Valentine’s Day, so she called in a Chinese takeout order. They could snuggle up on the sofa and eat Chinese food while they watched a horror movie on Netflix.
She let herself in the condo and called out Garrett’s name. It only took a few moments to realize he wasn’t home yet. She set her keys and the bag of food on the kitchen counter, feeling unsettled by the silence. She’d missed him more than she’d expected, and she planned to tell him as soon as he came home.
She checked her phone for messages. Nothing.
Then again, she’d trained him to not check in regularly. She didn’t need to know what he was doing every minute of the day, and she didn’t want to answer to him either, even if they shared an office and knew what each other was doing most of the time anyway.
Still, something felt off…not quite right. Their earlier argument had left her unsettled, and she attributed her uncertainty to that.
To help herself relax, she opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass, then sat down on the sofa and turned on the television. After her day, what she really needed was to watch something mindless. She spent the next hour flipping channels, growing more and more anxious that he hadn’t come home yet. His flight should have landed nearly two hours ago.
Maybe he’d decided not to come home. Maybe she’d pushed him too far.
Her stomach clenched, but she told herself to relax. Garrett was coming home. His flight from Denver probably got delayed too, and that was easy enough to find out.
She grabbed her phone and found the itinerary he’d emailed her before he left, then pulled up the airline’s website and plugged in the flight number—delayed.
Well, that explained it. He was probably stuck in Denver. So why hadn’t he called her? And why had he sent that text saying that he was boarding his plane and that he’d see her in K.C.?
Maybe he’d changed his mind.
She knew the idea was ridiculous even as it popped into her head, yet once it was there it continued to mushroom out of control. Garrett was the committed one in the relationship. She was the one with the issues.
But what if he’d gotten tired of her brick wall and decided he’d had enough? The quip for him to take the San Diego job was too much for anyone to take. Even Garrett.
She poured another glass of wine and started zipping through channels again. She flipped past a national news channel but turned back when she realized the images on the screen were of an aircraft in flames.
“…again we have confirmed that there are casualties,” the newscaster said in a grave voice. “But we have no confirmed numbers. To recap, Western Airlines Flight 756, originating in Denver and headed to Kansas City, made an emergency landing at Topeka Regional Airport at approximately 5:38 Central Time. The flight crew had informed air traffic control of a reported engine failure and requested an emergency landing. Air traffic control diverted the plane to Topeka, where it touched down, then skidded off the runway and burst into flames. We know that at least fifty passengers have made it off the plane, many with injuries, but we have no idea how many are still on the plane. Once again, Western Airlines Flight 756 has crash-landed at the Topeka Regional Airport.” The newscaster paused, pressing his earpiece into his ear as he listened. “Authorities are now confirming that there are ten casualties and that twenty passengers are unaccounted for.”
Blair stared at the TV in shock, dropping her wine glass onto the hardwood floor. The glass shattered, splashing Blair’s feet with wine.
Western Airlines Flight 756 was Garrett’s flight.
She picked up her phone, her fingers fumbling to pull his number up on speed dial. After five attempts, she finally got the call to go through, only to have it immediately go to voice mail.
Some rational part of her brain told her to remain calm. Freaking out wouldn’t do any good, but she had to look at the facts. If Garrett were in a plane crash, his first plan of action would be to call her and reassure her that he was okay. If the plane crashed shortly before six, he’d had over an hour to call her.