Now That I've Found You - Kristina Forest Page 0,9

get a taxi?”

“No,” I say, instinctively pulling my baseball cap lower, pushing my sunglasses farther up on my nose. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

“All right, then.” She nods and starts to back away.

I avert my gaze and brace myself for the inevitable moment when she realizes who I am and yells at me for mocking Paul Christopher. Or worse, when she snaps a picture of me and posts it on social media.

But surprisingly, the woman turns and walks in the opposite direction, intent on helping a family that looks lost. She doesn’t even spare me a second glance.

Before I do end up being recognized, I walk back outside again, rolling my two huge suitcases behind me. I look to my left and right for Frank, but I still don’t see him. There are tons of other cars here, though. Including a grocery store truck parked all the way at the end. A short Black man with a thick mustache and bald head talks loudly on his phone, leaning against the side of the truck.

I pull out my phone to call Gigi, and that’s when I see that I’ve received two texts. One is from my mom.

Did you land? she asks.

I text back, Yes. Going to Gigi’s now.

Her reply comes right away: Good. Stay safe. And out of trouble.

I’ve been in New York for barely twenty minutes. What trouble does she expect me to cause in that short of a window? Before I can even let her message get to me, I read the second text, from Kerri.

Hey, I tracked your flight and saw that you just landed. Was everything okay? I hope you got some sleep. Did you get picked up yet?

The flight was okay, I respond. I’m waiting for my ride now.

How long have you been waiting? Do you want me to call you a car? she asks.

I text back, No, I’m okay. Gigi’s driver is on his way. Thank you, though.

Okay, let me know when you get there?

Our exchange makes me feel a little better. Yep, will do.

I wipe sweat beads from my forehead and call Gigi again. She doesn’t answer. I sigh and call once more. This time she picks up.

“Hello?” she says.

I don’t know if it’s the heat and exhaustion or the fact that I’m so happy to finally hear her voice, but I suddenly feel like crying again.

“Hi, Gigi.” I hold back a sob. “I’m here at the airport.”

“Oh, Evie Marie,” she says, sounding relieved, “I thought it might be you calling. Is everything all right? Have you found Mr. Gabriel? He should be waiting there for you.”

“Is that your new driver?” I ask, surprised that Frank must have retired too. “What kind of car does he drive?”

“Oh, no, Mr. Gabriel is a dear friend who was kind enough to do me a favor,” she says. “I haven’t had a driver since Frank moved back to Florida. Are you waiting at arrivals? He’s hard to miss.” She pulls the phone away from her ear. “Milo, didn’t you say he was at the American Airlines terminal?” I hear a boy’s voice respond “Yeah!” in the background.

I blink, trying to process what’s happening. Milo? The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. “Gigi … who was that?”

“Oh, you remember Milo. He was here last Christmas. I’m going to call Mr. Gabriel right now and make sure he finds you. Hold tight.”

“Gigi, wait—”

But she’s already hung up.

He’s hard to miss? What is that supposed to mean? I turn my head this way and that, looking for a bright-red Mercedes instead of a black one, but I don’t see anything.

“Evie! Evie, is that you?”

I whip my head to the left and see the short, bald man who was leaning against the grocery truck walking toward me, waving his hands in my direction. Immediately, alarm bells sound in my head. I’ve been discovered, even in my carefully curated disguise. Is he paparazzi or something? He doesn’t have a camera. Maybe he’s a reporter? My eyes go to the cell phone in his right hand, and I take a step backward.

He smiles at me, relieved. “Evie! I’m your grandmother’s friend, Mr. Gabriel. I thought maybe you’d hopped into a cab. You look a lot different from the picture she showed me.”

I squint at him. Now that he’s closer, I see that his red T-shirt says GABRIEL’S GROCERIES in thick white letters.

Wait a minute. This guy is taking me to Gigi’s?

“How was your flight?” he asks, and before I can answer, he’s