Carter brings me to the airport later that afternoon, and although it’s a shitshow, I’m able to fly out.

Just as I’m settling into my seat, an attractive brunette who looks like she’s in her late thirties sits next to me.

I check my phone for the last text from Carter.

Call me when you land.

“Wow. Thank God we took off,” she says. “I was getting worried for a minute.”

“Me too.”

“Hi. I’m Katherine. Nice to meet you,” she smiles, putting out a hand.

“Lacy.”

“I had the wrong seat for the first ten minutes. Well actually that’s not quite true. I tried to sit in first class, and they found out.”

“Hey, Riser Air, what are you gonna do?” I shrug.

She giggles. “We can get drunk on the plane.”

“Maybe one glass of wine or something.”

She calls the flight attendant over.

“We’ll take two glasses of…” she turns to me. “Red okay?”

“Sure.”

The flight attendant pours us each two glasses.

“Oh, I meant just one glass each,” she says. “Oh well, it’s fine. We’ll figure out something to do with these,” she winks at me, putting two glasses on my tray. “Won’t we.”

I sigh, but reluctantly take the glass in my hand. For once in life, I’m not feeling all that stressed. I actually feel good about most things, aside from the fact that I need to tell Josh we are done with our casual ‘whatever’ situation. But that won’t be too hard.

“So what do you do, Lacy?”

“I’m a dancer.”

“Oh, really? Where?”

“This company in New York called Blue Illusion.”

“Wow. I’ve heard of them. They’re doing the backup dancing for that new show A Crazy Little Country Called America. Totally impressive. I’m sure you have talent to get put on that team.”

I shrug. “I worked really hard. I’m enjoying it though. Great people on the team. How about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a social media consultant.”

“Oh,” I nod, slowly sipping my wine. “What’s that mean, exactly?”

“I help people build their following and personal brand on Instagram, Facebook and sometimes Twitter. I consult mostly for individuals looking to build their brand. I work with a wide range of people. You know, fitness trainers, athletes, singers, even dancers.”

My ears perk up. “Dancers?”

“Yeah. Backup dancers for individual acts and dance groups. Have you seen the musician, Peaches?”

I chuckle. At Peaches’ concerts, she is known for her ludicrously dressed, caked-on-makeup dance crew that compliments her own crazy style. “I’ve seen her shows, yeah.”

“Well you know those wild dancers they have backing up Peaches? I helped them get noticed and get auditions. So I do a total analysis of your online presence, and then recommend—or in some cases even take the pictures for—a new social strategy.”

“Wow. That’s spectacular.”

Another glass and a half of wine later, I’m showing her my Instagram feed.

“You think I have potential? Really?” I ask, echoing her enthusiasm.

“Oh, for sure. Blue Illusion is a big name. But you’ve got to look at your persona as a whole—and play the game. Like...where are the pictures of you and your boyfriend...or are you more of a ‘forget boys’ personality. We could have fun with both.”

“I’m kind of seeing someone,” I admit.

She squints. “Are they...camera worthy? Just curious. Please stop me if I’m getting too personal.”

I shouldn’t be saying the next words out of my mouth, but I can’t help it. Maybe it’s the wine, but Katherine has a trusting face.

“Have you heard of Carter Flynn?”

She does a double take. “Carter Flynn...the basketball player?”

I nod.

“Wow. Carter Flynn,” she says loudly, then lowers her voice. “I’m sorry. The wine has me excited. That’s amazing. Last I heard, he doesn’t like to date anyone exclusively.”

“You keep tabs on Carter’s dating habits?”

She shrugs. “It’s kind of part of my job. But yes, Carter in particular is also an interesting specimen. You know more about him than I do, though, obviously.”

I recoil a little bit. “Do I? You seem to be very knowledgeable on the subject.”

She puts her hand on my shoulder. “I have a lot of clients in interesting places, and they have a lot of ears. You wouldn’t believe the gossip I pick up.”

“Like what?”

“Most of them, I can’t even repeat. The actor Hal Daliola? Yeah he’s got a whole other family on the west coast. Double life. Shoot. Why am I telling you this? Do not repeat this stuff. I’ve had too much wine.”

“I won’t.”

“Alright, it’s probably best that we change the topic. Are we there yet?” She turns and looks out the window.

The flight attendants work their way down the aisle to pick up our glasses. Taking a deep breath, I consider what an interesting coincidence it has been to meet someone like Katherine on the plane. Blue Illusion has been a step up for me this past year, but maybe it’s possible for me to take my dance career to another level.

I wait until she turns back toward me from the window, and then I ask my question. “Would you consider working with me? I mean, we could do the preliminary consultation or something.”

“Totally. Be ready to open up your social media to me, but it’s totally worth it. Here’s my card.” She hands it over.

KATHERINE D. BECKETT

PERSONAL BRAND CONSULTANT

“Pleasure to meet you,” she says.

“You as well. I’m excited to work together.”

“Yes, indeed. I have a good feeling about you. A very good feeling.”

When we touch down, I take my phone off airplane mode, and to my surprise a barrage of texts and missed calls come in.

I’m not that popular, am I?

Lance, Carter, my sister, even my mom have called me.

I call my mom but there’s no answer, so I call my sister.

“Hello,” she answers, her voice shaky.

“Hey Eliza. What’s going on? I saw your text that just said ‘call me.’”

“I felt weird texting you this. But it’s Dad. He went to the hospital. He’s not doing too well.”

My heart drops out of its socket.

“What’s the matter?”

There’s a long pause.

“His liver,” she finally chokes out. “How soon can you be home?”

I file off the plane, wave at Katherine as she walks away, and look up at the terminal.

“Well, I’m already in the airport. I’ll be there before midnight. How bad is it?”

She swallows. “The doctors aren’t even sure if he’ll make it through the night.”

Taking a deep breath, I buy a ticket, get back on a plane, and head back to Blackwell. I call Carter and he doesn’t answer, so I leave a voice message.

Blackwell, I’m coming home.