Juan downed the little that was left of his warm beer, gathered his things, and started down the terminal toward the gate. On the way, he passed a newsstand and decided to grab a bottle of water for the flight. He opened the glass-front refrigerator containing the plastic bottles, reached inside—and spied a woman’s billfold lying right there on the shelf. Clearly someone had accidentally set it down and then forgotten it. He looked around to see if the owner was nearby, but saw no one.

Buoyed by his recent good news—and Miguel’s—he decided to be a good Samaritan and take it to the Lost and Found. Wherever that was. His flight had only just begun pre-boarding; he had time.

The wallet lay open, and the driver’s license was visible. It seemed the wallet’s owner was a beautiful woman with red hair and bright green eyes.

Juan felt a pang of sadness for the wallet’s owner. She would probably be frantic once she realized it was missing.

He looked around once more and gasped as he spied a woman with bright red hair striding through the terminal, her gaze panning back and forth.

Juan glanced again at the driver’s license, caught the name, and yelled, “Hey, Katherine!”

The girl stopped and turned.

Juan held up the wallet.

“Oh my God!” She hurried over. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe I was that stupid. Now I remember. I was going to buy a water, then changed my mind and I just…”

She took the wallet and flipped through it, then looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time. Her eyes were the most intense shade of green that Juan had ever seen. And she was breathtakingly beautiful.

Juan suddenly felt awkward.

She held out a twenty-dollar bill. “Thank you so much for being honest. Take this for—”

“There’s no need.” Juan waved her off. “I’m just glad I saw you race by. Otherwise I would have had to track down the Lost and Found.”

“Well… not everyone would be that honest.”

She smiled, and for a moment Juan felt the world stand still.

“Well,” she said. “I have someone waiting to pick me up.” She put her hands together as if to pray, one of her hands still clutching her wallet. “Bless you. Thanks again.” And she turned and raced away, past the security entrance, and out of Juan’s sight.

“American Airlines flight 4359 to Rochester is now boarding at gate 3.”

Juan stared at where the redheaded girl had gone, then turned away, feeling a sudden sense of loss. Get a grip, Juan. It’s just some nice-looking ditzy chick who forgot her wallet.

As he retrieved his boarding pass from his shirt pocket and handed it to the attendant at the gate, the green-eyed girl’s face was vividly etched in Juan’s mind.