Tempting Her Best Friend (13 page)

It took a few seconds for his meaning to sink in, but it still didn’t make sense. “Getting to him before his plane leaves isn’t going to matter unless you know how to get us through security.” She waited for his “oh, right,” response, but he didn’t so much as flinch at the mention of the complication. A spark of hope flared in her chest. “Can you?”

His eyebrow hitched arrogantly as if to scold her for even doubting him. Holding the door open, he said, “Honey, as far as you’re concerned, this is Oz, and I’m the motherfucking Wizard.”

Chapter Eleven

Alyssa and Trent burst through the main doors of the Masquerade to the bustling semicircular drive. She looked to where the taxi line was three rows deep. Her stomach dropped. “We’ll never make it if we have to wait that long.”

“Gimme a sec to see what I have to work with,” he said as he scanned the area while Alyssa tried like hell not to tug on his sleeve like an impatient child. “Bingo.”

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward an old pink Cadillac convertible the length of a yacht. An Elvis impersonator, who was just as much a “late model” as the car, wearing a white jumpsuit bedazzled to the gills that stretched uncomfortably over his ample belly sat behind the wheel. A Marilyn Monroe in her iconic white halter dress opened the passenger door just as Alyssa and Trent practically barreled into the side of the car.

The couple’s initial surprise turned to elation as they granted Trent with the kind of enthusiastic handshake and hug a long-lost friend received. Trent made quickie introductions. Either he didn’t think she could retain new info in her anxious condition—which was probably accurate—or they’d legally changed their names to Elvis and Marilyn. After Trent gave them the Cliff’s Notes version of her predicament, they insisted on giving them a ride to the airport before Trent had the chance to ask, beg, or grovel on Alyssa’s behalf.

As she climbed into the back and pulled the yards of fabric in behind her, relief and hope flooded her system. Thirty seconds later that feeling was replaced by nausea as Elvis navigated the crazy Vegas traffic with the all the finesse of a stunt driver.

The only thing that kept her from detailing the white leather with her lunch was Marilyn’s game of 20 Questions. The woman asked about her and Dillon and the events that led up to the need for a NASCAR escort to the airport. Alyssa was thankful for the distraction and found the couple’s sincerity and comedic back-and-forth endearing. That, and the fact that Trent had known them for years, helped her feel at ease with them, despite Elvis’s driving.

Fifteen harrowing minutes later they pulled up to the departing terminal and jumped out of the car. Elvis tossed the keys to a waiting valet and they rushed through the automatic sliding glass doors. They’d no sooner crossed the threshold when they came to an abrupt stop. Hundreds of eyes were now staring at them as though someone had announced their arrival. Alyssa imagined the stories that would be told for years to come.
So, Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, a bride, and a gay guy walk into the Vegas airport…
It sounded like a bad joke.

“It’s a
ball
gown,” she muttered under her breath.

Marilyn leaned closer. “What was that, dear?”

“Oh, nothing.” Verbally arguing with people about their assumed future conversations was probably a good indication of a nervous breakdown. Perfect. “Now what do we do?”

“There he is. Come on.”

“There
who
is?”

Trent grabbed Alyssa’s hand and led their foursome over to a gorgeous blond. The sleeves of his polo shirt hugged his muscular biceps, and the security badge dangling from a lanyard around his neck drew attention to the defined pecs underneath. Add in the not-a-hair-out-of-place cut, evenly tanned skin, and ice-blue eyes and the guy looked like Barbie’s other half.

“Alyssa, this is Will. If anyone can get us where we need to go in this airport, it’s him. He’s the most manipulative man I know.” Will arched a brow in Trent’s direction as if to say
And…?
Trent released a resigned sigh and finished with, “He’s also my ex-boyfriend.”

Alyssa blinked her surprise.
O-kayyyy.
Big, hunky dude was apparently
Trent’s
other half. Or used to be, anyway.

“Guilty as charged on all counts,” Will stated with a quick wink, then cut a look over to Trent. “Though I’d rather the ‘ex’ part was left off that last one.”

Trent shot him a warning with narrowed eyes. “Don’t start.”

A smile and deep chuckle transformed Will’s stunning good looks to downright panty-melting. Or brief-melting, as it were. He turned and held Alyssa by the shoulders, his hands as large as Dillon’s, but missing the rough calluses that caused her skin to tingle. “You, my dear, are absolutely stunning. Come on. Let’s get you to your Prince Charming.”

She exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

As apparently everyone was wont to do with her tonight, Will grasped her hand and led her through the throng of travelers milling in the airport. “If I’d known a damsel in distress would get me a phone call, I would’ve sent one your way weeks ago, Trenton.”

“Seriously?” Trent pressed a hand to his chest and gave Will a look of disbelief. “I’m the one who got a
Dear Trent
letter with a
P.S. I’m taking the cat
. Which, BTW, was total BS because
I
picked out Sinatra in the first place.”

Will smiled over at the rest of them. “I named him, though. He has the most beautiful blue eyes.” Then back to Trent said, “You can’t deny you didn’t think living together wasn’t working out.”

The small group clipped along, rounding a corner and just barely sidestepping an old couple toddling along the windows of a gift shop.

“All I said was stop drinking all the damn Grey Goose. You’re the one who blew it out of proportion.”

“Maybe I wanted you to stop me.”

Trent whipped his gaze over, clearly shocked by his ex’s statement. He opened his mouth to respond, but Alyssa jumped in with a question of her own before things got too heavy. “How do we get through security?”

Will nodded at a Salma Hayek look-alike. “Connie Garcia.”

“She’s going to let us through?”

The woman winked in response and began winding her way toward a human version of Oscar the Grouch in a TSA uniform shirt that strained at the buttons. “No, she’s going to work her magic on Henry Rivers.”

“And then
he’s
going to let us through?” she asked hopeful.

“No, once he’s distracted we can sneak past to get to Pat.”

“Never mind,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll just try to go with the flow.”

He smiled. “Good idea.”

They watched as Connie reached her target. She struck up a conversation and expertly drew his attention to her ample cleavage with a seemingly innocent scratch with her French-manicured nail. Then she laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“That’s our cue,” Will said. “Everybody act normal and follow me.”

Knots tied and retied themselves in Alyssa’s stomach. She’d always been a rule follower, and this wasn’t like parking in a handicapped spot. The government didn’t mess around when it came to airport security, not these days. Images of them being dragged into a remote room for interrogation and body-cavity probing flooded her mind.

Grabbing Will’s arm with both hands, Alyssa prevented him from going anywhere. “I don’t want to go to jail. I’m thinking maybe this is a bad idea. And by ‘maybe’ I mean definitely.”

Will gently pried her fingers from his biceps as he spoke low enough for only her to hear. “I might still be crazy about Trent, but that doesn’t make me crazy in the head. I wouldn’t do this for him if I thought my job, much less my freedom, was at stake. You just have to trust me, and we’ll be on the other side in no time. Okay?”

Alyssa studied his bright blue eyes and felt her blood pressure go down a few notches. Though her head still screamed for her to turn around, her heart was about to board a plane somewhere on the other side of those security gates. Trent might be the Wizard of Oz, but Will was Glinda the Good Witch. He was the only one who could get her to where she needed to be.

Nodding her head with renewed confidence, she said, “Yeah, okay.”

“Atta girl,” he said, softly chucking her beneath the chin before giving the sign to the group that the plan was still a go.

They played follow the leader over to the corralled security area where he opened a section and gave it to Trent who hooked it back up once they were all through. Will led them to a sweet-looking old lady with white hair and more wrinkles than a shar-pei puppy. Back and forth, she paced on the other side of the security arches, helping the more travel-challenged individuals find their bins and get on their way.

As soon as she saw them, she moved off to the side and held open a small swinging door and motioned them forward.

One by one, they passed through without a single alarm going off. Will kept walking so they kept following, past the stainless steel tables backed up with bins of belongings and past the “Recombobulation Area” where travelers desperately tried to
re
do everything they were just forced to
un
do.

“Hurry, we have to take the tram to the D Gates.”

The motley crew hustled to the boarding area for the tram and arrived just as the doors opened to accept passengers. They piled in and all grabbed a pole. Will turned around to do a head count like a teacher on a field trip. “Everyone in?”

“Yep,” Elvis answered. “Looks like we’re in the clear.”

“Thanks to me and Pat,” a woman with a feminine, accented voice said behind them.

The group turned to see Connie and Pat rush on before the doors closed securely behind them and the tram began to move.

Will bent down to buss the older lady’s soft cheek with a quick kiss before bestowing the same on Connie. “Thanks for helping out, ladies.”

Alyssa held her hand out to shake theirs in relief and gratitude. “Yes, thank you both so much. I truly appreciate it.”

Connie’s eyes sparkled. “It will be thanks enough to see you reunite with your man.” She sighed wistfully. “It is very romantic, no?”

Holy shit, if this kept up, she’d have a live studio audience worthy of a daytime talk show. She tried not to think about that as the tram slowed to a stop. When the doors opened, everyone spilled out into the lower level like a clown car in a circus. While most of the travelers walked briskly toward the escalators, their party walked even brisker.

As Alyssa hoisted her skirts up and hopped onto one of the moving metal steps, she heard a woman’s voice echoing from above. “Last call for Frontier Flight 756 to Denver. We’ll be closing the doors and departing in five minutes.”

A bolt of panic shot through her as she looked to her ringleaders for confirmation that she’d heard wrong. There had to be at least thirty minutes before his plane left.

Will cursed and peered down at her with bad news in his eyes. “They must have moved the time up. And the gate is on the other side of the terminal.”

They stepped off the escalator and moved off to the side to let the people behind them continue on. Connie’s lush mouth turned down in pouty empathy. “Even if we run we will never make it in time. I am so sorry,
mija
.”

Alyssa swallowed past the lump of disappointment in her throat, then took a deep breath in until it dissolved completely. It had no right to be there. These people had gone above and beyond to help her and she wasn’t about to discredit that with a pity party. “That’s okay,” she said, trying her best to tug up the corners of her mouth. “It was a crazy idea to begin with. I’m not usually so impulsive.”

“Maybe you won’t have to wait that long after all,” Pat said. “Look! We can hitch a ride with Charlie.”

Six pairs of eyes followed to where Pat pointed to a man driving a stretch golf-cart thing with three benches—two facing forward and one facing back. Sitting next to Charlie was a showgirl with giant turquoise plumes sticking out of her headdress like a peacock in full strut mode. Her left calf rested on the dash of the cart with an ice pack strapped to her ankle.

“It’ll be close, but it’s worth a shot.” Will ran after Charlie. His athletically large frame dodged people in his path like a football player avoiding the defensive line on his way to the end zone. It took less than a minute for Will to stop him, give a quick explanation, and get him turned around to pick up the rest of them. Extending his hand to Alyssa, he smiled. “Your chariot, m’lady.”

She placed her hand in his and climbed in next to him as everyone else found themselves a seat. Charlie warned them to hang on and then the cart jerked forward as he put his foot to the floor. When the whining of the electric battery didn’t warn people of their approach, Charlie honked the horn and parted the crowd like Moses of the TSA. Alyssa’s heart beat a crushing rhythm against her ribs despite her slow breaths and reminding herself that it wasn’t likely they would catch the plane in time.

The showgirl twisted in her seat the best she could and said, “Hi, I’m Amber.”

“I’m Alyssa. Sorry for hijacking your ride. What did you do to your ankle?”

Amber glanced at it with a disgusted look on her heavily made-up face. “Rolled it. That’ll teach me to buy knockoff heels.” She held up the offending shoe in one hand and its spiked heel in the other.

“Yikes. I hope you recover quickly.”

“Thanks. Me, too.” Amber looked wistfully at Alyssa’s gown. “I love your wedding dress, by the way. You look beautiful.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” Alyssa replied awkwardly, “but this isn’t a wedding dress. I was going to a masquerade ball. It just happens to be white so…”

Amber’s eyes narrowed as though she were thinking hard or trying to recall something. “Are you sure? Because my cousin got married about three months ago, and even though I had a lot of champagne, I’m almost positive she had the same dress.”

Oh, for Pete’s sake. Why did everyone care what
kind
of dress she wore? Right then and there Alyssa vowed to never wear a white dress again until her
actual
wedding day. If that day should ever come to pass. “Really? Huh.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess anything is possible.”

Over the last minute, the density of travelers had thinned considerably until now their cart had no obstacles whatsoever. Alyssa searched for signs of airline life—flight attendants ushering on the last few passengers, people dragging their carry-ons behind them as they disappeared into the gangway, anything that would tell her she still had precious seconds left to get to Dillon—but there were none.