The Third Seat
I smiled and folded his laundry and wished him a good trip, and every hour of it cost me something, and every hour of it was worth it, because it kept him careless right up until the aisle.
Chapter 7 — Ninety Minutes
Two days later Vaughan left for the airport with his bag and an easy, careless smile.
“I’ll call you when I land in Chicago, love.” “Have a safe flight,” I said.
I waited ninety minutes.
Then I took a car to the airport myself.