Deal Of A Lifetime. T. R. McClure
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Yorkers are unfriendly.
Al nodded. “Your brother made it out in the nick of time. They canceled the last flight in, so the airport’s closing. What do you expect? There’s a hurricane moving up the East Coast, and central Pennsylvania is on the outer edges. We get flooding. No big deal. Happens every spring.”
“Good.” Her stool scraped against the wooden floor as she stood and shrugged into the yellow poncho.
“What am I supposed to do?” Alex had the distinct feeling, of the four locals in the bar, the woman, Sera, was his best chance at finding a solution to his problem. But the guarded expression on her face as she paused—the bright vinyl puddled around her neck, emphasizing the blackness of the curly hair—had him rethinking his conclusion.
She pulled the poncho down, slipped her hands through the holes and shook her head, sending curls flying in all directions. “Where are you headed?”
Hope sparked in his chest. Maybe he had misjudged the woman. “Clover Hill Farms. Outside Bear Meadows.”
“No kidding. Well, good luck.” She picked up her paisley purse and headed for the door. “Thanks for the drink, Mike.”
“Hey, Sera. Isn’t Clover Hill Farms close to your place?” Scooby eyed Sera’s glass with her unfinished drink. “You live right next—” Scooby’s enthusiasm deflated at the woman’s sharp glance.
One hand on the dark door, she paused. Her shoulders lifted and dropped, as if she had taken a big sigh. When she turned, his gaze met hers and held.
Pretty green eyes blinked once. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. A full minute passed before she replied. “I’m driving the pickup, Scooby. He doesn’t look like a pickup kind of guy.”
Alex knew if he didn’t do something soon, he would be sleeping on the uncomfortable vinyl chairs in the lobby. So he smiled. For a brief second the woman smiled back, before the smile disappeared and her eyes became guarded. Up close, they almost appeared blue. If he didn’t want to spend the night in the airport, the poncho-wearing, blue-or green-eyed woman was his last hope. “I could be a pickup kind of guy.” He smiled in what he hoped was a persuasive manner. “I’ll pay you.”
She pursed her lips as she considered his answer. “Clover Hill Farms, huh?” She caught the eye of the ticket agent. “There’s no one left in the airport. What about the pilots?”
Al stroked his beard. “Gone.”
Her chin dropped to her chest, as if in defeat. When she looked up, her jaw was set. “Show me your driver’s license.”
Alex supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. In this day and age, a person couldn’t be too careful. He pulled his wallet from his pocket, withdrew his New York license and laid it on the counter. She returned to the bar, every step hesitant as if this were the last place she wanted to be. She glanced down at the piece of plastic. “This license is expired.” Despite the rain, or maybe because of it, her dark hair curled around her face.
Alex looked down at the piece of plastic. “What did you say?”
She tapped the plastic with one finger. “Your license is expired.”
Alex looked around the bar at the three men. “Of course not.” Picking up the license, he checked the date. She was right. Somehow he had allowed the license to expire. Considering he didn’t own a car, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He held the license in front of her eyes. “Look at the picture. Doesn’t the picture look like me?”
“Not really. That guy has a beard.”
He held the license out to the three men, and each shrugged. No question whose side they were on.
She eyed him warily. “Suppose you are Alexander Kimmel. So what? Kimmels don’t own Clover Hill Farms.” She tossed the license back onto the counter. “This doesn’t exactly reassure me.” Thrusting her shoulders back, she took a deep breath and stared the man straight in the eyes.
So she wasn’t a trusting sort. He guessed that was a good thing. “I’m Cyrus Carter’s cousin. My mother and his father are brother and sister. Call him. He’s expecting me.”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked Alex up and down. “Why didn’t Cy come pick you up?”
This time it was Alex’s turn to shrug. “You got me. He said the new vet’s coming over to look at a sick cow and he has to be there.”
Finally the smile he had been trying for with the pickup response appeared on the woman’s face. “Typical.” A sharp wrinkle appeared between dark brows as she looked up at Alex. “You’re Cy’s cousin? For real?”
Mike slid a thin phone across the top of the bar. “Call him.”
Sera picked up the cell phone and flipped through the screens. Finding what she needed, she held the phone to her ear. “Hello? Mrs. Carter? Hi. This is Serafina Callahan. Could I speak to Cyrus?” She nodded, her fingers toying with the snaps on her yellow poncho. “Yes, ma’am. We’re fine. Listen—” She rolled her eyes and shot an irritated look in Alex’s direction.
He held his hands out to the side. “Good luck getting a word in edgewise.” He smiled as he pictured his aunt pelting Sera with questions like snowballs.
Scooby picked up Sera’s glass, and just as he lifted it to his lips, Mike snatched it out of his hand. “Sorry, buddy.”
“Aww, come on. Just one sip.” Scooby held up one finger.
“No.” Mike emptied the glass in the sink with a smile.
“Mrs...Mrs. Carter, I’m at the airport, and there’s a guy here who says he’s Cy’s cousin...Uh-huh...Uh-huh...He is? Well, what if...Uh-huh...I see...Thank you...Good night.” She returned the phone to Mike, who dropped it in his shirt pocket.
Alex crossed his arms in satisfaction. “What did Aunt Jean say, Sera?” The satisfaction of being right bloomed in his chest. Now, if he could just convince her to give him a ride.
She stared at the bar. Her lips pursed once, twice, before she took a deep breath and looked at him, hard. “She confirmed you are who you say you are.”
Sera’s gaze flicked from the counter to his luggage. “That’s all you brought?”
“I’m just here for the weekend. I have a flight home Monday morning.” His license still lay on the counter. He retrieved it and returned his wallet to his back pocket.
“The New York connection. Out Monday, return Friday.” Her lips pursed, then straightened, and pursed again, before settling into a slight grimace. She’d apparently arrived at a decision, because she sprang up and strode toward the dark door with the colorful glass. The yellow poncho flared around her jean-clad legs like a superhero’s cape. “Come along, then.”
Alex cast a glance first at Scooby, then the ticket agent and then Mike, who reached under the counter and pulled out a Hershey’s bar, which he handed to Alex. “Try sweetening her up with this. She likes chocolate.”
Scooby and Al followed Sera into the main terminal. Switching off the lights in the bar, Mike disappeared into the back.
Grabbing his suitcase, Alex went to find the lady with the pickup. He wished he had never left the city.
AS HE HEADED for the front doors, the big overhead lights dimmed, leaving the terminal lobby in shadows. The young woman in the yellow poncho was his only option. Despite the nagging feeling of uncertainty in his chest, he followed.
That quick, she had disappeared. The sidewalk and road in front of the terminal were empty. His cousin owed him big-time after this. The least he could do when requesting a favor would be to pick him up at the airport. A sign read Taxi Stand, but the space was empty.