Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

Shit. I had been sorted onto the short list of bumped passengers. I gathered my carry on and approached the desk.

“Hi. I’m Kaitlyn Sinclair. You called my name.”

“Yes. You’ve been reassigned to another flight to Brownsville,” the woman at the counter reported.

“Ok. When does that flight leave?”

She typed furiously on the keyboard. “You’re in luck. Since it’s a heavy vacation time, it’s basically like a shuttle service to Brownsville. There is another flight in ninety minutes.”

That didn’t seem too bad. “All right.” I didn’t have much choice.

“And we have a food voucher for you.” She beamed at me. “It’s five dollars and you can use it anywhere in the airport.”

That wouldn’t even cover the cost of a muffin at the food court. I took my new boarding pass and the not-so-generous voucher, and returned to my seat.

I had to remind myself that even if Branch hadn’t dumped me, I would still be traveling to South Padre by myself. He had bought his airline ticket a month before I did. Maybe I should have realized then that he didn’t care whether I was on this trip. He always liked his independence. If we had a date, he’d ask me to meet him there. He was the kind of guy who would rather go to a movie without me, than wait two hours for me to get out of class.

“Attention passengers traveling to Brownsville. We will begin boarding in twenty minutes. Please have your boarding passes ready.” The loud speaker crackled overhead.

Finally.

4

Kaitlyn

When the plane came to a complete stop, I wasn’t expecting to disembark down a flight of stairs and onto the concourse. The Brownsville airport was small—extremely small. I slung my bag on my left shoulder and descended the stairs. I inhaled the warm Texas air. Ok, maybe salt breezes weren’t that far away.

The flip-flop girls from my flight giggled as we crossed the tarmac. I thought I overheard them discussing cocktails and something about body shots.

&nbs

p; “Ladies, wait up!” The flask guys pushed past me, sending one of the cola bottles in the air.

“Hey!” I yelled as the lid slipped off and the pungent concoction washed down the front of my jeans.

If they were trying to stifle their laughter, they failed. “Dude, you just spilled your drink all over that girl.”

“Hey, I’m sorry.” The offender barely uttered the words before he plunged into the crowd and disappeared.

I looked down at my jeans and the stain that had bled from my thigh to the mid-point of my shin. At least I was entering baggage claim where I could retrieve my bag and change clothes. Only, the carousel circled several times, the flip-flop girls were on their way with their luggage and mine was missing.

I trudged over to the baggage desk. “Excuse me. My luggage didn’t arrive from Raleigh.”

“Fill out this form.” The man behind the counter didn’t even bother to look at me. He typed something with one hand and tossed a pen with the other.

“But, I’m supposed to catch a shuttle to my hotel. Can you try to track it first? I was bumped from my last flight and maybe it arrived before I did. I have my baggage claim ticket right here.” I held up the small barcode stapled to my boarding pass.

“Like I said, fill out the form.”

I took the pen and inserted all the necessary information into the blanks.

“Do you think you can tell me where it is?” I asked sweetly, hoping he would take pity on me.

The man glanced over the sheet on the clipboard and resumed his typing. “We’ll call you when we locate your bag.”

There was a line forming behind me. I wasn’t the only one who had an issue with traveling today.

“Ok. Thank you.” I didn’t want to thank the man. He hadn’t done anything and he wasn’t the least bit helpful, but the fate of my suitcase was in his hands.