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Olivia Hampton reached up and opened an eye with her fingers. Light poured in from her bedroom window. She groaned and rolled to the side. She’d stayed up late again playing Soldier’s Call. No work today though, she had a plane to catch this afternoon to LA. Rock Star Entertainment had invited her to be part of their Gaming Convention demonstration for Soldier’s Call. It was the biggest convention of the year. Freaking awesome. Plus, they were paying her way.
She opened her eyes again and squinted at the alarm clock. 9:15am. It’s time to get up. Her plane was at noon. She needed to get ready and eat something. Twenty minutes later she’d managed a quick shower, twisted her long wet hair into a bun, applied some makeup, and gotten dressed —dark boot-cut jeans, a light pink angora sweater, and purple fuzzy boots that masqueraded as house shoes most of the time.
She grabbed a bagel and banana from the kitchen, threw them in her purse, and grabbed the carry-on bag she’d packed yesterday.
Time was kind. Her phone read 10:45am when she walked through the airport terminal doors. She printed her ticket at a kiosk and hurried to the security check.
A line at least twenty people deep made her groan. She picked a row, parked her suitcase next to her, and dug the cinnamon raisin bagel out of her purse. The line proceeded to move at the speed of snail slime. It would be a sprint to get to her gate after this.
Several people looked at her and she turned the other way. The last thing she wanted was to be recognized and have people make a scene. She was the traffic reporter for Channel 10, the local Fort Worth news station. It wasn’t a huge thing, but it was big enough to get her free coffee from the manager at the coffee shop she frequented in the mornings.
She loved her job. She’d worked her way up from being lowly coffee assistant, to personal assistant, to fill-in person for emergencies, to stepping into the role as the full-time traffic reporter when the last one took her leave after having a baby. Meagan, the previous traffic reporter, had wished her well and gone home to be with her daughter.
Recently, a weekend entertainment anchor position had come open. She and another girl, Celine, were both doing their best to impress their boss. Being invited to a gaming convention as a guest just might impress Allan Stinebach, her boss, enough to get her the job —as long as there were no embarrassing videos. Cons were known for fan outbursts.
The line started to move a little faster. She stuffed the last bite of bagel in her mouth, and kicked off her fuzzy purple house shoes. A security agent handed her a tray. In went her shoes and purse. Then she put her carry-on bag on the counter next to it. He pushed it through the scanner and she walked through the metal detector without a hitch. She’d been sure not to wear anything that would trip an alarm. The lines took long enough without having to pull off earrings, necklaces, bracelets, belts, and whatever other accessories she’d deemed necessary for the day. Flying was uncomfortable. No need to wear clothing that made it worse.
She grabbed her shoes off the counter on the other side, shoved her feet in, grabbed her bag , and power-walked to her gate. 11:38am flashed on the screen of her phone. It wasn’t too far. She wove between people and got to her gate as the last group was boarding.
The attendant at the gate smiled at her. “Just made it, Ms. Hampton. Thank you for flying American.”
She smiled back and hurried onto the plane.
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Harvey fidgeted in his seat. These planes, no matter how big, were made for midgets. His six-foot five-inch body did not appreciate being folded up and stuffed between an overweight old man and the plane wall. Why couldn’t his seatmate have been the gorgeous blonde chick that’d walked on at the last minute? Nope. Instead, he’d gotten stuck with a big guy who smelled like someone’s spittoon
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