I take my ringing phone out of my bag. It's Alice.

“Hey. Did I leave something at home?”

“No,” she says, laughing nervously. That’s weird. What has she got to be nervous about?

“Good.” I exhale with relief. “I thought I was going to have to ask the taxi driver to turn around.”

I'm already running late so I have no time to get anything from home anyway. I was planning to take the BART train, but it took me longer than expected to get ready this morning. I didn't think gathering the last few items and putting them in the bag would take so much time.

“So you're in the taxi now?”

What kind of a question is that?

“I told you when I walked out the door ten minutes ago that the taxi was waiting for me downstairs. So yes. Yes, I am in the taxi now.”

“All the...luggage in the trunk?”

“Sorry, maybe I wasn't clear enough. I’m in a moving taxi now. So yes, you're right again. The luggage is in the trunk,” I say. I sigh audibly and ask, “Why are you really calling?”

“Uh, you mentioned you were going with your boss? What's his name again?”

“Cole Foster. Yeah, I know. He's kinda famous. Why? You want an autograph?” I laugh.

I hope she doesn't really want an autograph because that would be a weird thing to ask from my boss.

I guess if she really wants one, I can make a copy of a corporate letter that has his signature on it and blow it up. Huh. There's an idea. I wonder if I can sell that on eBay for money.

“No, I’m just worried about you,” she says.

“Aww… I'm going to be fine,” I say. “I know I haven't left home since, well, you know. But I’m in a good place now. Don't worry about me.”

“That's good, Em. That really puts my mind at ease.” She pauses for a few pregnant seconds before she says, “Listen. What I texted you the other day… You know, the autocorrect… Uh, what I said about your boss…”

“Oh, you mean when you told me to lick his ass?” I lower my voice to a whisper at the end of the sentence, but I can't tell if the driver heard it. I giggle, remembering our little online chat.

“Yeah. Uh, I'm just calling to say… Don't do that.”

“Alice. Do you seriously think I’m going to lick my boss’ ass?” My whisper gets a little louder. I can't believe what Alice is implying.

“No, I don't mean literally.” I can almost hear her blush over the phone. “I mean, I know I’ve been pushing you to start dating again, and I don't want you to do anything rash.”

“You're calling me because you're worried about me going on a trip with a boy? I'm twenty-five. And it's an industry conference. I'm traveling for work,” I say, a little offended by the lack of trust Alice is displaying toward me right now. “I'm a full-grown adult, for God’s sake.”

“I know. It's just, you know how Mom used to lose her jobs because she had a habit of sleeping with her bosses?”

“Yes, Alice. I remember us having to go to sleep hungry whenever Mom lost her job and ran out of money, all because she inevitably got fired when her latest boss-slash-boyfriend grew tired of her craziness. But I’m not Mom, okay?”

Guilt rises within me. I have had some seriously dirty thoughts about Cole, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn't fantasized about things happening with him during this trip.

But those are just fantasies, stories I tell myself to fill my mind when I’m trying to fall asleep. We're talking about Cole Foster here. Surely a girl is allowed a fantasy or two when her boss looks like that.

“I know, Em. I'm just worried, okay?” She sighs into the phone. “I have a confession.” She goes quiet, then she continues, “I had a thing with someone at work once. It was awkward when it ended. I kept my job because he's not a vindictive man. But Em, he could've easily fired me, waited for me to make a mistake and then used that as an excuse. I was freaking out for a while. I didn't think I was going to be stupid enough to follow in Mom’s footsteps, but I did.”

“Oh, Alice.” My voice softens. Alice may be annoying sometimes, but her concern comes from a place of love. “You're not stupid. There was no way for you to have known that it wasn't going to work out with him. You're a smart, capable, independent woman. And you're a pretty good sister, too.”

She laughs softly. “Just… Just be careful out there, okay?”

“Okay. I promise you,” I say. “Now stop worrying about me and go get ready for work or you're going to lose your job anyway.”

“Have a safe trip, Em. I love you,” she says.

“Love you too,” I say.

I put the phone back in my bag and look out the car window. The taxi driver has been quiet the whole ride, and he doesn’t even play any music. Just the silence I need. Soon, I get lost in my thoughts.

I had no idea Alice ever went through something like that. She never told me about it. When did this happen? A chill runs down my spine when I realize I must've been too absorbed with my own problems to notice her pain.

Damn it, Emily. You need to do better for your sister’s sake.

I spend most of my commuting time either on the bus or on the train, so it feels strange to see the city whizz by from inside a car. I can relax more with the cushy seat and the knowledge that I’ll be dropped off right at the terminal entrance, instead of having to drag my wheeled suitcase from the BART station all the way to the check-in desk.

I wonder if I’ll be able to get the taxi fare reimbursed. Just as I send a text to ask Lily about it, the taxi pulls up at the airport.

I pay the taxi driver, leaving him a twenty-percent tip. No matter how much I’m struggling with money, I can never bring myself to tip any less. I’ve spent too many years working as a waitress to stiff service workers out of their tips.

I drag my suitcase into the cool, air-conditioned airport terminal and stop in front of the monitor that shows a list of the departures.

Hmm… SEA… Flight Omega 4989…

Just as I spot our flight on the list, someone grabs my arm and I let out a loud shriek.

I turn to find Cole with his eyes wide in shock, and I immediately cover my mouth with both hands.

But it's too late. People are already looking at us curiously, whispering to each other.

Cole quickly drops my arm and puts on a strained smile, nodding at the people who are still staring. Most of them quickly realize there's nothing extraordinary going on here.

“What are you doing?” He whispers without moving his lips, which are still frozen in a weird smile aimed at the few remaining nosy travelers.

“Sorry, Cole,” I say, heat spreading across my cheeks. “I’m so sorry. You just surprised me.”

Even with that suspicious, axe-murderer expression on his face, Cole still draws the attention of the women around us. The wow-he’s-cute kind of attention; not the look-at-that-creepy-axe-murderer kind.

He looks different today. That's definitely a big part of why I was so taken aback. I didn't recognize the sizzling hot bad boy standing before me.

He's wearing a pair of jeans that hangs a little loosely on him. A plain white T-shirt shows off his broad shoulders, hard chest, and built abs. I have to suppress the urge to reach out my fingers and trace the ropes of muscles along his bare arms.

“Let's just get to the check-in desk. I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, his teeth gritted.

“Oh! Am I late?” I pull my suitcase as I walk behind Cole, openly checking out his back now that he's not looking my way. His shoulder blades are outlined beautifully underneath the thin cotton.

“Yes,” he says. “I got here first and you have the tickets. You're going to have to give me your phone number so I can reach you in the future.”

“Okay,” I say.

My heart beats a little faster at the thought of Cole calling me on the phone. Then I remind myself he’ll just be calling to coordinate work stuff, and I feel stupid.

Oh boy, this is going to be a long trip if I have to keep fanning myself around Cole.

“What took you so long anyway? I thought we agreed to meet here fifteen minutes ago,” he says.

“It took longer than I expected to finish packing, and then when I called the taxi, there was a long wait.”

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve picked you up,” Cole says, approaching the First Class check-in counter.

“Really, there's no need,” I say.

God. What would Alice say if Cole showed up at home with his fancy car? She’d probably freak out and curl up in the fetal position while rocking back and forth to soothe herself.

“Obviously there is a need because you were late today,” Cole says with finality.

He stops at the counter and shoots a charming smile to the female agent, who greets him a little too eagerly.

“Can I see your tickets, please?” She flashes Cole a big, wide smile, not paying me the slightest bit of attention. I’m surprised she can blink under the weight of her mega-thick fake eyelashes.

“Emily, the tickets?” Cole looks at me expectantly.

I dig the pieces of paper out of my bag and hand them over to the woman across the counter from us.

She takes our IDs and types away on her keyboard. After she checks our bags, she continues typing. She slides something onto the counter.

“Your gate is C40. Mr. Foster, your seat is 3A. And Miss Webb, your seat is 22B,” she says, placing the boarding passes on the counter with a smug smile directed at me.

“Hang on,” Cole says. “Why aren't we sitting together?”

“Your seat is in First Class, Mr. Foster. Miss Webb’s seat is in coach,” she says, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face.

“Is the seat beside me empty?” Cole asks.

The agent glances at her computer screen and nods. “Yes, Mr. Foster,” she says.

“Move her there. I’ll pay for the upgrade,” Cole says, pulling his wallet out of the pocket in the back of his jeans and handing the agent his credit card.

I stand beside him with my mouth hanging open. What am I supposed to do here?

That's really generous of him, and a part of me wants to protest -- at first.

But then, I don't know if I’ll ever have the chance to fly First Class ever again in my entire life. What if, in my old age, a young person comes to see me in my nursing home and asks me about my biggest regret, and I have to say, “Well, there was that one time I said no to a free First Class ticket fifty years ago…”

As if he senses my apprehension, Cole turns toward me and smiles. Is that tenderness I see in his eyes?

“Don't worry. We're already saving a lot of money by not taking the private jet anyway,” Cole says. “Besides, I have a couple of questions for you about the presentation.”

“Uh, okay” I lamely reply. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. He reminds me of his father when he does that. “It all comes out of the company expenses anyway.”

“Here's your new boarding pass, Miss Webb,” the agent says, interrupting our little awkward conversation.

As I take the boarding pass and turn to walk away, I catch her mouthing something to Cole.

“Uh, did she just ask you to call her?” I quietly ask Cole as we step away from the check-in counter.

“I guess so.” He shrugs.

“When did she give you her number?”

“When I was waiting for you.” He cocks a crooked grin my way as we walk side by side toward the security checkpoint. A wicked glint sparkles in his dark brown eyes when he says, “Why do you ask? Are you jealous?”