it works. Only our customers can use our lounges.”
This can’t be happening. I need in that lounge. I need to get my interview with Hunter while I’m… err, it’s still fresh in his mind. Once he hits the next convention or press junket or wherever he’s going next, I’ll be a forgotten memory.
I know this poor woman’s hands are tied, but maybe I can appeal to her success as a professional.
Leaning forward, a huge smile on my face I say, “I understand what you’re saying.” Her shoulders relax at my non-threatening tone. “But Hunter Stone just walked in there.”
Her spine straightens once again, and I realize too late I’ve made a mistake dropping his name.
“No! No, I’m not a fan,” I try to backtrack. “I mean I am, because who isn’t? I actually know him from years ago when he was working well off-Broadway.”
Stop babbling, Celeste. Get to the point.
Chuckling lightly, I wave my hand. “You don’t care about that. My point is, I’m a blogger.”
Wrong again. Now she looks like she’s about to call that giant “stare me down without a word” guy back. He can’t have gotten far so I better fix this.
“Hunter and I are both leaving a convention where we spoke multiple times.” I begin digging around my bag for evidence. “He offered to let me interview him before he left and gave me this card, see?”
I hand her the business card as proof. She looks down at it and frowns. “This says Eddie Addison on it.”
“Right. That’s his manager. I emailed him but haven’t heard back and this would be a great time to knock out the interview so we can both go on our way.”
“Ms. Pumpernickle…”
“Pumperkin…”
“Are you suggesting I ignore the fact that you aren’t a member here, aren’t even a customer of our airline, so you, as a member of the press, can harass one of our celebrity clients?”
“No! Oh gosh no! We’re actually sort of friends—ish. He’s friends with Matthew Roberts, who is marrying my best friend, Carrie Myers. You can look it up online. There was a small magazine spread about it. Oh! I know!” The dig in my purse begins once again. Why can’t I find anything in here? I know why… receipts. I have all of them from this weekend for tax purposes, making my usually organized purse a mess. Figures.
Finally I find what I’m looking for. “Here, see?” I hand her yet another business card. “This is our blog and website. We cover books and movies and… anyway, you can see my name right there and Carrie’s is right above mine. You know to cross reference that I know Matthew and therefore Hunter…”
Even as the words come out of my mouth, I know how weak my argument is. I might as well say I know Kevin Bacon because there’s only six degrees of separation.
“This card says the website is owned by Celestial Starr and Carrie Mibooks.”
“Those are our blog names… for… privacy reasons.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, not even having to look at her to know this conversation is over. My face is flaming with the humiliation I’m feeling. Quietly, I begin repacking all my belongings, careful to get everything in the correct places so I don’t have to re-organize again later.
When I’m finally situated, I take my boarding pass off the counter.
“I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
Turning toward the door, she stops me.
“Ms. Pumpernickle…”
I don’t bother correcting her, feeling a tiny bit of hope that she’s changed her mind and will have pity on me.
“I don’t need these business cards.”
She reaches her arm out, holding the cards with two fingers like they’ll infect her with whatever has me acting a fool.
Sheepishly, I take them from her and exit the reception area as quickly as I can, relieved the windows are frosted and no one in the concord was able to witness my humiliation.
Chapter Nine
Hunter
Two months later
It may not be a flight home to my bed and much missed pillow but I’m not complaining. A long weekend in Turks and Caicos may be exactly what I need. To say I was surprised when I received an invitation to Matthew Roberts’s wedding would be an understatement. Sure, we’ve gotten to know each other better over the last few months, having hung out a few times when our paths have crossed for work. But I always assumed destination weddings were for close family and friends.
Yet, here I am, raising my seat to its upright position as we make our