He hesitated with his hand the door handle. He wanted to just go and ignore it, but he just knew who it had to be. Cursing, he dropped his bag and went to the phone.
A moment of silence and then, “I can’t let you catch that flight, Grant.”
He felt the blood rush to his feet. “Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?” He was fighting to control himself, but he knew she could feel his anger in his voice.
“You won’t be taking a flight home today, Grant. Tell the front desk you’ll be staying in Boston for now.”
His hand was beginning to shake. “No! No, no, no! I’m leaving now, and you can’t stop me. Do you hear me? I’m going home!”
He slammed the phone down and ran out the door with his bag in hand, more determined than ever to make his flight. He raced downstairs and quickly checked out, happy when the desk clerk told him his cab was waiting. He ran outside, threw his bag in the back and got in.
“Airport, please. United Airlines, I’m in a hurry.”
The cabbie nodded without looking back and pulled into traffic. They were making good time and Grant was looking forward to getting home and having it all behind him when he heard the cab driver curse and begin pulling over to the shoulder.
“What’s going on, why are you stopping?” He couldn’t believe this was happening.
“I’m sorry sir, there must be something wrong with the radiator or something, the engine is overheating.”
He stopped the cab and got out and lifted the hood. Grant sat in the back staring out the window in disbelief. Soon he could see a plume of steam rising above the hood. Damn. This just can’t be happening, he thought. He got out and went to have a look. It wasn’t good.
“I can’t understand this, sir, the car was serviced yesterday, this just doesn’t make any sense.”
Grant was sure the redhead had something to do with it. How, he had no idea, but this was surely her doing.
“Can you get me another cab right away? I have to catch my flight, it’s very important.”
The cab driver got back in the seat and radioed in. He listened for a minute and got out, shaking his head.
“It’s really busy. They’re not sure when they can get another cab here. I’m really sorry.”
Grant pounded his fist on the back of the seat and cursed a blue streak. There had to be a way. He got out and grabbed his bag and went to side of the road and stuck his thumb out. It was all he could think to do. Maybe he’d get lucky. A few minutes later a car pulled over.
“What’s up, buddy, your cab crap out on you?”
Grant was over the moon. “Yeah, it did. I don’t suppose you could get me to the airport? I’ll pay you. Whatever you want. You name it.”
The guy looked surprised, and for a minute Grant was sure he was going to say no, then, “Well…all right, get in. What the hell.”
Grant threw his bag in the back and jumped in. “Thanks so much, man, you have no idea how much this means to me.”
He looked at his watch. It might still be possible.
Part 8, The End, tomorrow.