She closed her eyes and tears pushed past her lashes. “I can’t thank you enough. Please thank Lourdes for me. I promise you, you won’t regret it. I will make you all so proud.”
“Oh, cherie,” she said with affection in her voice, “you already make us proud. Very proud.”
Olivia disconnected and held the phone to her chest. Gratitude welled inside her until she ached with it.
Her first thought was to call Tate and tell him.
That dragged her down a little. Okay, a lot.
Olivia collected her suitcase, moved to a corner chair in her gate area and curled up. Holding her phone close, she watched the jets take off and land and taxi. Carts and people trailed over the tarmac.
Her life was on target once again. On an even better trajectory than when she’d come. Her cooking and catering skills had taken a leap in the right direction. She’d broken through that ugly barrier standing between her and her mother and sister, and they could start rebuilding. She’d get the money for school back from her mother in a few more days when she’d collected final payments from several clients, and Quinn had promised to get her mother to a business consultant even if she had to drag Teresa by the hair.
Olivia had also fallen in love.
And she had the broken heart to prove it.
She closed her eyes and dropped her forehead to her knee.
Maybe her life wasn’t aimed at that bulls-eye quite right after all.
Tate wandered toward his gate with his duffle over his shoulder, his head down, reading a book on his phone, muttering to himself.
When he nearly missed running into someone, he lowered his phone. “Fuck it.”
He’d study on the plane.
He wandered into the TSA pre-check line, and breezed through security. He loved flying out of Washington National. With only three wings in the main terminal, it was so much smaller and quieter than Dulles, and much easier to reach with Metro.
He looked around for somewhere to eat. He was starving and he needed a drink. He’d barely eaten anything all day yesterday and hadn’t been able to work up an appetite for anything but Olivia today.
Now, his body was demanding fuel. Tate wandered toward his gate, the very last in the terminal, checking menus of eateries as he passed. But he still couldn’t find anything that interested him.
“Drink first,” he muttered to himself. Maybe that would help him relax. Then, maybe he could eat.
He turned the corner in the last section of the terminal and found the American Tap Room. Tate found a table, dropped his duffle on a chair and sat. When a waitress came by he said, “Bring me your favorite beer on tap.”
She grinned, nodded and moved to the bar.
Tate planted his elbows on the table and rubbed his face with both hands. “Je suis désolé.” He knew his pronunciation sucked. He could only hope she appreciated the effort. “Je t'aime. “Je reste jusqu'à ce que vous voyez que vous pouvez me faire confiance.”
“Here you go.” The waitresses voice brought his head up. “Devil’s Backbone.”
He smirked. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
She moved on to the next table and Tate wrapped his hand around the cold glass and inhaled the rich scent. “Je reste jusqu'à ce que vous voyez…” His tongue got all tangled. “Goddamnit.”
He lifted the glass to his lips, inhaled deeply and filled his mouth with the bold beer. As he set the drink down, he watched people wander past on their way to their gates. During a lull in foot traffic, his gaze moved deeper into the seating area of the gate beyond, which was empty, and the windows that looked out onto the tarmac.
He wondered if Olivia was already back in Paris. Wondered how long it would be before she’d talk to him again. He’d texted and called her several times last night, but she’d never answered.
Movement in the corner drew his gaze. Someone was sitting there, looking out the window. A little haven in a sea of strangers. When they left maybe he’d do the same until it was time to board.
He took another drink of his beer, trying to relax. Trying to let things fall where they should instead of always forcing them. Acr
oss the way, the person stood and paced in front of the window. It was a woman and she was silhouetted against the bright sunlight outside.
Tate sighed, thinking of Olivia. Of how badly he wanted to feel her in his arms. Of what a long road it could be back to trust between them.