The line in front of them budged a fraction, but Shay stayed where she was, glancing from the redhead to her husband and weighing her options. The woman had said she owed her one, hadn't she?
"Which team is he--you know what, no, it's too personal. I wouldn't want you to think--"
"No, no, it's quite all right. He works in San Diego." Phillip was walking toward them now and his wife made a little motion as if to say "you didn't hear anything from me."
Following the other woman's lead, Shay turned around and stuffed her belongings in a tray before turning on her heel and saying, "Phil, so good to meet you. Your wife and I rode here together on the plane."
He smiled, if somewhat confused, and took her outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you--"
"Shay Meyers. A & M Publicity." She grinned wider and the redhead did her best to look impassive.
"Right, well, like I said. Nice to meet you--"
"Wait!" A loud, deep voice rumbled through the security line and then she saw him--tall and blond and sprinting.
In the airport.
"Matt, don't--" she shouted, but it was too late. The security detail was swarming him from every direction and soon she coul
d hardly see him through the fog of uniforms and stern faces.
"Sir, you're going to need to come with us to answer a few questions," one of the men said.
“Wait, no, there’s a simple explanation.” Shay jogged out of the security line, leaving all her belongings in her wake. A beefy security guard had tackled Matt to the ground and was now? laying on top of him like they’d just gone on a particularly successful first date.
“We’ll be the judge of that, ma’am.” Another officer nodded toward her while they hoisted Matt up and guided him none-too gently to a back room.
“Shit,” she murmured, then grabbed her things. But before she sprinted off after them, she pulled a card from her purse and handed it to a very confused-looking Phillip.
“Was that Matt Archer?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yep. And if you want the rest of the story, call me at this number.” Not waiting for his response, she took off after the last straggling guard.
* * *
They detained him for three hours. Three hours of watching the clock while they went through everything on his person, asked him every question they could think of, and then, eventually gave up.
The whole while, all he could do was stare at the clock and wonder if Shay had gotten on the plane. Not that it was much of a question. The likeliness of her hanging around for a guy who'd gotten tackled in the airport, after all, wasn't very good.
"So you're telling me you just thought it was a good idea to 'wait' and run into the airport?" the fifth security officer, a ginger man with a huge mustache and beard , asked on a sigh.
"Yeah," he said.
"Right. Well, you're free to go. Just...be more careful next time, okay buddy?" The guard opened the door and he walked out with slumped shoulders, his hands in his pockets. He couldn't even call her. He'd just have to wait until--
"Matt." He turned to find her sitting just outside the room, her laptop perched on top of the bench beside her.
"Shay, I..." He speared a hand through his hair. "I guess my big gesture didn't go off exactly the way I'd hoped."
She laughed. "Guess not."
They stood there, staring at each other for a long moment, and then she said, "Look, I've had a lot of time to think about this. Especially while I was sitting here. I should have--"
"No, no. I don't want your apologies. I know why you did it. It wasn't meant to hurt me. I overreacted and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for everything I said and most of all I'm sorry for ever agreeing to your terms in the first place."
"You're..." Her smile fell. "Oh. Right."
"I never should have let you tell me that we could only be together for these past couple of weeks. I should have known even then that it wouldn't be enough. That I would need more time with you."