“Risks? Hah! What risks?” she demanded. “It’s not like we’re war correspondents or anything.”
“Agreed. But we do take risks every time we’re on an assignment. Like rappelling down canyons, flying in small planes and helicopters, bar fights in Croatia,” he teased. “Not to mention that all this traveling is hard on a relationship. Ben’s going to have a tough decision on his hands if he decides to – uh, never mind.”
But Lauren was like the proverbial dog with a bone when she scented some juicy gossip. “What about Ben? And what’s this tough decision he has to make? Oh. Do you mean about the engagement?”
Karl gave her an odd look. “What engagement? To Elle? Who told you that?”
Lauren drained her wine glass. “She did. Just before they went on that trip to Spain last month. She seemed pretty sure that he was going to pop the question during their vacation.”
Karl shook his head. “First time I’m hearing about it. And given the fact that Ben might decide to take my job when I leave at the end of the year, I doubt he’s thinking about getting married. And – ah, shit, I just spilled the beans, didn’t I?”
She laughed and placed a smacking kiss on his bearded cheek. “You always were lousy at keeping secrets. It’s one of the many things I’m going to miss about you. Now, what’s all this about Ben taking your job? Where did you hear that bit of news?”
He sighed. “I really shouldn’t say anything, especially since I was the one who put the idea in his head right before we left on this trip. Who knows if he’s taking it seriously or not. But it sounds like he definitely won’t be staying in his current job once his contract’s up. Hates all the paper pushing and the meetings, and not being part of the action.”
“Wow.” She shook her head in disbelief. “That would be – mind-blowing. I mean, it’s not only a complete change of direction in his career, but it would mean a pay cut as well. And I can’t imagine Elle would be too happy with him traveling so much. She seems – needy.”
Karl guffawed. “Ya think? Not to mention the bigger issue that I pointed out to Ben – namely, how Elle would really, really not like the idea of him traveling with you. I doubt she could handle the two of you taking the Staten Island Ferry together, much less traveling to exotic locales for two weeks at a time.”
Lauren stared at her co-worker slack-jawed. “You told him that?” she croaked. “What – what did he say?”
Karl gave her a devilish grin. “Well, he didn’t deny it, if that’s what you mean. And he also acknowledged that – what was all that again – oh, yeah. He admitted that he thinks you’re hot, and that the two of you might have some quote unquote “chemistry” between you but that there was nothing actually going on. And while the first two points are so obvious that a total stranger would pick up on them within twenty seconds, I’m not buying the third one. Because I’ve known for a long time now, kiddo, that you and the boss have a real thing for each other. It’s like an electrical storm every time the two of you are in the same room.”
It was one of the very few times in her life that Lauren was rendered speechless. Karl looked very smug as he drank his beer, and she was sorely tempted to give him a shove or pull his long hair in retaliation. And even though it was a true rarity for her, she also knew when to concede a point.
She acknowledged with a scowl that there was no way she was going to be able to bluff or bullshit her way out of this one. Karl knew her too well, and had obviously taken very thorough notice of her reaction to the little bombshell he had just dropped on her.
“Shit.” She drained her wine glass and held up the nearly empty bottle. “If we’re going to have this discussion, we’re definitely going to need more booze. Story of my life.”
***
Forty minutes later, Karl was the one who had been rendered speechless.
“Wow,” was all he could say. He was now sitting out on Lauren’s balcony beside her, having fetched another bottle of wine that they had just about polished off by now.
“Yeah. It’s pretty messed up, isn’t it?” she asked, blowing out a breath. “And now I’ve got no clue what to do. I still love the bastard like I’ll never love anyone else, but I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for what he did. And where does Elle figure into all of this?”
Karl nodded. “It’s a real clusterfuck, that’s for sure. But your aunt was right, kiddo. Whatever it is that Ben has to tell you, you owe it to yourself to hear him out. And given what I know about him – what a good guy he is – I’m pretty sure he had a solid reason for what he did.”
“I can’t imagine what. In fact, I’ve spent the better part of six years trying to figure it out,” she admitted.
“Stubborn, bossy broad,” declared Karl. “You should have let him explain a long time ago, saved both of you a lot of grief.”
Lauren shook her head. “You don’t know that. I mean, if he cared about me that much, then why did he leave? It was good between us, Karl, really good. I know he couldn’t have faked that, nobody could. So did he get cold feet, have another girlfriend or secret family stashed somewhere, owed money to the mob? And believe me, those are some of the more logical explanations I’ve come up with over the years.”
“Jesus, with that sort of imagination, you should be the one writing books,” chuckled Karl. “Look, stop driving yourself nuts and just let the guy talk, okay? I mean, I get it that he broke your heart but enough is enough, kiddo. Stop being so goddamned stubborn for once in your life and just listen to him.”
“I tried, remember?” she replied sullenly. “He was too busy to talk. Told me to send him an email. And that’s exactly what I’m tempted to do. In fact, I’ve got one in my draft folder, all ready to send. Along with my letter of resignation.”
Karl heaved a sigh. “Are you still on that? You know this is just a knee jerk reaction, Lauren. You love your job. And you love Ben. And if you can be a little patient, you might be able to have both. Because my guess is that Ben is well aware that he’d have to choose between Elle and this job. And if having you along is thrown in as a bonus, I’d take that bet all day long as to what his choice would be.”
“A bonus, huh? How flattering,” she retorted. “But what if you’re wrong, Karl? What if he is serious about Elle and plans to stay in his current job? Because if that’s the case, there is no way I can go on this way.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “It’s too hard, you know? To see him so often and know he’s with her. To not be able to tell him how I feel. So if he stays with her – I go. I’m going to go out of my mind soon otherwise.”
Karl squeezed her hand. “Then tell him, honey. You’re the bravest, ballsiest chick I’ve ever met. Nothing intimidates you or scares you off. So as soon as we get back to New York, you march into Ben’s office, lock the door, and tell him everything you just told me. Life’s too short, kiddo, so stop wasting it, okay?”
Karl’s words remained with her for the rest of the evening as she finished packing and got ready for bed. She took out her laptop to check her email one more time, and once again read over the two unsent messages in her draft folder. She wound up deleting one of them, and making yet another minor revision to the other, but held off on sending it.
Her sleep was restless, a rarity for her since she usually slept like a log. But the conversation she’d had with Karl had set the wheels in motion in her brain, and try as she might she couldn’t stop them from spinning out of control.
It was nearly an hour before her alarm was due to go off when she gave up on the thought of sleeping, figuring that with the twenty four plus hours of flying ahead of her that she could sleep on one or all of the four flights. She took a leisurely shower, dressed, and booted up her laptop again, answering several emails and checking a variety of websites.
And then, just before she had to leave to meet the others, she hit Send.
***
“For fuck’s sake, Georgina, you do not have to vomit again. It’s all in your head, understand? We have less than f
ive minutes to make this connecting flight, and I swear if you make us miss it I’ll lock you in that damned toilet for two days.”
But for once George was not letting Lauren boss him around, groaning loudly as he clutched his unsettled belly. “I can’t help it,” he gasped. “Go on without me if you have to, but I’ve got to – oh, damn!”
Before Lauren could hold him back, George dashed into the men’s room, pressing a hand to his mouth as he disappeared from sight.
“Damn him and his delicate digestive system!” cursed Lauren, kicking the nearest wall in frustration. “And damn Nadine for booking us connecting flights barely thirty minutes apart. I mean, even if it wasn’t still monsoon season the odds of a flight delay in this part of the world are pretty high. You guys do realize that if we miss this flight to Delhi it’s going to have a ripple effect and screw up the next two flights as well.”
Karl patted her on the back. “Calm down, kiddo. George can’t help it if he’s got motion sickness. And it was a pretty turbulent flight, you must admit. I’m a little queasy myself.”
Lauren glared at him. “You’re not helping, Karl. It’s bad enough we’ve got to take four flights, but Chennai International would not be my first – or even my hundred and first – choice of airports to hang around in for a few hours waiting for a new connection.”
Chris nodded. “I’m with Lauren. Maybe we should just run for the gate and let George find his own way home. Why should we have to be miserable just because he’s got a weak gut?”
“And don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, someone who already knew he suffered from motion sickness shouldn’t have taken this job?” muttered Lauren darkly. “Considering that eighty percent of this job involves travel.”
George emerged from the men’s room a few seconds later, looking as though he was about to collapse. He was pale, sweating, and shaking, and Lauren grabbed his arm impatiently, plucking his laptop bag from his other hand and tossing it to Karl.
“Come on, Georgina,” she told him irritably. “We’ve now got about ninety seconds before our flight to Delhi takes off, so you’d better be prepared to run for your life. Otherwise, your head’s going to be the next thing that gets flushed down that toilet.”
***
New York
It was just past six a.m. when Ben emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist while he used a second to dry his hair. His bedroom was dimly lit as he began to pull clothes from his closet and dresser, not worrying about waking Elle at such an early hour since she was fast asleep across the hall.
Since her parents had returned to England more than three weeks ago, he had yet to return to Elle’s bed. He’d been spending a lot of extra time at the office, arriving in very early and staying until well past quitting time. He had admittedly been avoiding her, not ready just yet to have “the talk”, but he hoped his increasing absences were also helping in his quest to let her down easy.
There was no possible way, he reasoned as he pulled on a pair of jeans, that Elle could not realize their relationship had some serious problems. Aside from the fact that they hadn’t slept together in months, he had become increasingly withdrawn and uncommunicative. But Elle continued to act as if nothing was wrong, smiling and conversing normally, and not addressing the oversized elephant in the room. That she was in a state of denial was glaringly obvious, and Ben resolved not to keep her in limbo any longer. He was going to talk to her this weekend, he promised himself, even if it was a certainty that there would be a huge scene.
He would stay in a hotel for a week or two until he could find a short-term rental. Elle would be upset, deeply emotional, but it was the right thing to do for both of them. He just hoped that eventually she would come to accept that fact, though he feared it would be a hard truth for her to acknowledge.
His cell phone buzzed just as he finished buttoning his shirt. Ben frowned, for no one ever called him this early, even a crew member who was more than halfway around the world. And as he glanced at the caller ID, he noticed it was a local number.
“Hello?” he said, his heart beginning to beat a little faster in trepidation. After all, who’d be calling him this early with good news?”
“Ben. God, oh God. It’s Nadine. And, oh Jesus, I just had the news on. I was getting ready to go out for a run and I always listen to CNN at this time of the morning.” Nadine was babbling, pretty close to being hysterical. “And, God, the plane – there’s been a crash, Ben. A flight out of Chennai headed for Delhi. And, Jesus, I’m almost positive it’s the flight that George and the others were supposed to be taking.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Ben, Robert McKinnon is on the line for you.”
Ben closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose where a dull headache had begun several hours ago, and had gradually spread to what felt like his entire body. He’d been expecting this call from Lauren’s family, had in fact picked up the phone three different times to call them first, but had been interrupted on each attempt.
“Put him through, Kym. Thanks.”
He had already spoken to both of George’s parents – two times each – both demanding answers and having hysterics each time; to Tamsyn, who’d nearly broken his heart when she had asked tearfully “Does this mean my baby is never going to know its father?”; and to Chris’s father, who’d been backpacking somewhere in Colorado and had either had a terrible connection or been half-stoned.
This call from Lauren’s father, therefore, was both expected and at least a couple of hours overdo.
“Robert.” Ben greeted him somberly. “I imagine you’ve heard the same news reports we have. How are you and your wife holding up?”
The older man’s voice sounded hoarse, as though he’d been crying. “Not terribly well, Ben, as you might expect. Natalie is – not doing well at all. Julia and Nathan just arrived a few minutes ago, and they’re doing their best to comfort her. But I need to know everything you do at this point. Is there any chance that my little girl is still alive?”
Ben had anticipated this question, had answered it several times already this morning, and wished again that he had more reliable information to share.
“There’s a chance, yes,” he replied gravely. “Lauren and the others were on a flight from Port Blair to Chennai, and their departure was delayed by nearly half an hour. The flight also encountered some serious turbulence en route, which delayed its arrival by a few more minutes. If the flight from Port Blair had left on time, then they would have had barely thirty minutes to make the next flight from Chennai to Delhi – the flight that crashed on takeoff. Based on what we know, they would have had less than five minutes to make the connection, given that the two gates were in different terminals.”
Robert’s voice sounded a bit steadier at this news. “So it’s quite possible that they weren’t on that flight? When will we know for certain?”
That was a question Ben had been asked – and had asked himself – multiple times so far today. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Apparently, when the plane exploded on takeoff, it took out power and telephone lines, and no one’s had any luck getting much information. We have people here at the magazine in constant contact with both the FAA and the State Department trying to get updates, but until the passenger lists are released, or we hear from one of the crew, we won’t know anything definite.”
“Yes. I understand. I’ve been watching the coverage on television, what little there is, and it sounds like the crash not only disrupted the communications systems but that the debris is blocking the main highway into the city.”
“There hasn’t been a whole lot of news,” agreed Ben. “And I’m sure the priority is to tend to the victims of the crash. Plus, all incoming and outgoing flights have been grounded, which is to be expected. We haven’t even been able to reach them on the satellite phone, but I’m told that’s not unusual in these sorts of disasters, that communications can be blocked in order to give priority to emergency services. But we�
��ll keep trying to reach them, as well as utilize all of our contacts to get more news.”
Robert blew out a frustrated breath. “I suppose under the circumstances that’s all you can do. Except to hope. And pray.”
Ben shut his eyes again, rubbing his temple. “Believe me, Robert, I’ve been doing plenty of both since I first heard the news early this morning. We have to remain positive, have to assume that they didn’t make it onto that flight. The odds aren’t great that they did.”
“With most anyone else I’d agree,” retorted Robert. “But with Lauren – well, you’ve seen her in action. She’d think nothing of badgering a gate agent or pitching a fit until they called the plane back to the gate.”
“Even Lauren can’t control everything,” Ben assured him gently. “And given how tight security is at airports nowadays, I doubt she would have been able to pull something like that off.”
“I suppose you’re right.” There was a pause for several seconds before Robert murmured in hushed tones, “God, if something happens to my girl I don’t know what we’ll do, Ben. My wife is holding on by a thread right now.”
“I know exactly how she feels,” whispered Ben. “Lauren is – well, she’s a very special woman, isn’t she? And, well - ”
“You’re in love with my daughter,” finished Robert. “Yes, I’ve been aware of that for quite some time. And I trust that if she makes it out of this that you plan on telling her exactly how you feel. Now, please. Call us the moment you have any news. No matter the time or no matter what the news.”
Robert hung up before Ben could even start to think up a reply, and he was left staring dumbly at the receiver.
But current circumstances didn’t allow for him to spend time pondering why Robert McKinnon had sounded so sure of himself just now, why he had very matter-of-factly stated that Ben was in love with Lauren. Had Lauren in fact confided in her father, or was Robert simply making an educated guess based on what he had observed?
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