“Oh, is that one of Reynold Foster’s boys?” she asked.
“I don’t know. He said his father was in manufacturing.”
“Yes, I bet that is. Reynold has some pretty wild young men. But, they are all very handsome, if I remember right.”
“Yes, Chase is very handsome. We talked on Skype, and I couldn’t believe he wasn’t a movie star.”
“Well, I hope things work out for the two of you.”
“Me, too,” I said eagerly.
***
I don’t think I had ever been as nervous as I was when I started to walk off the plane toward the airport. I didn’t know what to expect. The uncertainty was more than I could handle, and I walked slower to let some of my fellow passengers go ahead of me.
What if he didn’t like me? What if I wasn’t who he thought I was? Maybe I would be too tall or not tall enough. Maybe I wouldn’t be pretty enough. So many thoughts flooded my head that I found it hard to move.
One by one, I let the other passengers go ahead of me as I tried to get the courage up to walk into the airport. I walked slowly up the gate exit and moved deliberately by putting one foot in front of the other. I tried to look through the windows to see if I saw Chase, but there were just too many people out there.
It was my first time in America, and I just wasn’t prepared to see Chase. I was so scared.
When I finally got the nerve to walk into the airport, I wasn’t greeted with Chase as I had hoped I would be. Instead, we had been guided right into the immigration area of security. Everyone needed to show their passports and go through a line where the security officers asked you questions.
It was much tougher security than I had ever been through. But, I supposed more people tried to get into America than Liechtenstein. The immigration stops while in Europe were extremely fast if you were from there; I really had never seen an immigration department as big as the one I arrived at in Atlanta.
“State your name,” the man in uniform asked me.
“Jordan Miller.”
“What is the nature of your business in Atlanta?”
I stood there and looked at him briefly as I tried to figure out the best way to explain why I was in Atlanta. I wasn’t really on vacation or a business trip. I was there to see Chase and hopefully go on a few dates.
“Ma’am, do you speak English?” he said kindly.
“Um, yes. I’m just visiting a friend. Is that what you mean?”
“Yes, thank you. How long do you expect to be in the country?”
Again, I went blank. I didn’t have a specific length of time in mind. I hoped that I would even be able to stay, but I doubt that would make a security officer very happy if I said that.
“Just a couple of weeks,” I replied.
He stamped my passport and handed it back to me.
“You can pick your bag up over there,” he said as he pointed to a huge line of people.
There were many more people than just the ones on my flight. We all stood around and waited for the baggage to come down the conveyer belt and then scrambled like children to get to our bags first.
When I finally saw my bag, there was no way I could get through the crowd of people to it, so I just followed it around the conveyor belt until it got to an area where there were not as many people. I was very happy I had brought a bag with wheels on it, and I rolled it behind me out the security gate, toward the exit.
“Jordan!” I heard a man’s voice call out.
I had been so caught up in the stress of getting through security that I had forgotten to look for Chase when I got out of the doors. It was likely the several cocktails I had on the plane played a bit of a roll in my forgetfulness, as well.
“Jordan, over here,” I heard his voice say again.
When I turned around, I saw him. He stood a little over six feet tall and had on a suit that looked like it had been custom tailored to fit him. His dark brown hair was styled perfectly, and I could see his brilliant blue eyes.