Almost Gone

Zane.

He must have found out she was leaving at this time. She’d heard from various friends he’d been phoning around, asking where she was and checking up on the Florida story. Zane could be manipulative, and not everyone knew about her situation. Someone must have innocently told him the truth.

Before he could look in her direction, she swiveled the cart round, yanking her tracksuit hood over her head to hide her wavy auburn hair. She rushed the other way, steering the cart behind a pillar and out of his sight.

The Air France check-in desk was at the far end of the terminal. There was no way she could get past without him seeing her.

Think, Cassie, she told herself. In the past, Zane had praised her for her ability to make a fast plan in a tricky situation. “You think on your feet,” he’d said. That had been at the beginning of their relationship. By the end, he’d been accusing her bitterly of being sneaky, underhanded, too damn clever for her own good.

Time to be too damn clever, then. She took a deep breath, hoping for ideas. Zane was standing near the terminal entrance. Why? It would have been easier to wait by the check-in desk where he’d be sure of spotting her. So that meant he didn’t know which airline she was flying. Whoever he’d gotten the information from either hadn’t known, or hadn’t said. If she could find another way to the desk, she might be able to check in before he came looking.

Cassie unloaded her luggage, shouldering the heavy backpack and dragging her suitcase behind her. There was an escalator at the building’s entrance—she’d passed it on her way in. If she rode it up to the top level she hoped she would find one going down, or an elevator, at the other end.

Abandoning the luggage cart, she hurried back the way she had come and rode the escalator up. The one at the other end was broken, so she climbed down the steep steps, dragging her heavy bag behind her. The Air France check-in desk was a short distance away, but to her dismay, there was already a long and slow-moving line.

Pulling the gray hood further forward, she joined the line, took a paperback from her purse, and began reading. She wasn’t taking in the words, and the hood was sweltering. She wanted to rip it away, cool the perspiration on her neck. She couldn’t risk it, though, not when her bright hair would be instantly visible. Better to stay in hiding.

But then a firm hand tapped her on her shoulder.

She whirled round, gasping, and found herself staring into the surprised eyes of a tall blonde who was about her own age.

“Sorry to startle you,” she said. “I’m Jess. I noticed your backpack and thought I should say hello.”

“Oh. Yes. Maureen’s Au Pairs.”

“Are you flying out on an assignment?” Jess asked.

“I am.”

“Me too. Do you want to see if the airline will seat us together? We could request it at check-in.”

While Jess chatted about the weather in France, Cassie glanced nervously around the terminal. She knew Zane wouldn’t give up easily—not after driving all the way out here. He would want something from her—an apology, a commitment. He would force her to come with him for “a goodbye drink” and pick a fight. He wouldn’t care if she arrived in France with fresh bruises… or missed her flight completely.

And then she saw him. He was heading in her direction, a few counters away, scanning each line carefully as he searched.

She turned away quickly, in case he sensed her gaze. With a flicker of hope, she saw they had reached the front of their line.

“Ma’am, you’ll need to remove that,” the check-in clerk said, pointing to Cassie’s hood.

Complying reluctantly, she pushed it back.

“Hey, Cass!” She heard Zane shouting the words.

Cassie froze, knowing a response would mean disaster.

Clumsy with nerves, she dropped her passport and scrabbled for it, her top-heavy backpack tipping over her head.

Another shout, and this time she glanced back.

He had seen her and was pushing his way through the line, elbowing people aside. The passengers were angry; she could hear raised voices. Zane was causing a commotion.

“We’d like to sit together if possible,” Jess told the clerk, and Cassie bit her lip at the additional delay.

Zane shouted again, and she realized with a sick feeling that he would reach her in a few moments. He’d turn on the charm and beg her for a chance to talk, reassure Cassie that it would only take a minute for him to say what he needed in private. His aim, she knew from experience, would be to get her away and alone. And then the charm would vanish.

“Who’s that guy?” Jess asked curiously. “Is he looking for you?”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend,” Cassie muttered. “I’ve been trying to avoid him. I don’t want him causing trouble before I leave.”

“But he’s already causing trouble!” Jess whirled round, irate.

“Security!” she screamed. “Help us! Somebody stop that man!”

Galvanized by Jess’s cries, one of the passengers grabbed Zane’s jacket as he pushed past. He slipped on the tiles, arms flailing, dragging one of the posts down with him as he fell.

“Hold him,” Jess appealed. “Security, quick!”

With a surge of relief, Cassie saw that security had indeed been alerted. Two airport police were rushing over to the line. They were going to reach it in time, before Zane could get to her, or even run away.

“I came to say goodbye to my girlfriend, officers,” Zane gabbled, but his attempts at charm were lost on the duo.

“Cassie,” he called, as the taller officer grasped his arm. “Au revoir.”

Reluctantly she turned to face him.

“Au revoir! It’s not goodbye,” he shouted, as the officers marched him away. “I’m gonna see you again. Sooner than you think. You better take care.”

She recognized the warning in Zane’s last words—but for now, they were empty threats.

“Thank you so much,” she said to Jess, overwhelmed with gratitude for her gutsy action.

“I also had a toxic boyfriend,” Jess sympathized. “I know how possessive they can be, they stick like freaking Velcro. It was a pleasure to be able to stop him.”

“Let’s go through passport control before he can find a way back in. I owe you a drink. What would you like—coffee, beer, or wine?”

“Wine, for sure,” Jess said, as they headed through the gates.

“So, where in France are you headed to?” Cassie asked, after they had ordered the wine.

“This time, I’m going to a family in Versailles. Close to where the palace is, I believe. I hope I’ll have a chance to go and see it when I have a day off.”

“You said this time? Have you been on an assignment before?”

“I have, but it didn’t work out well.” Jess dropped an ice cube in her glass. “The family was dreadful. In fact, they put me off using Maureen’s Au Pairs ever again. I went with a different agency this time. But don’t worry,” she added hurriedly, “I’m sure you will be fine. Maureen must have some good clients on her books.”

Cassie’s mouth felt suddenly dry. She took a big gulp of wine.

“I thought she was reputable. I mean, her slogan is The Premier European Agency.”