I might have had the luxury of the first-class bathroom on the plane that I was only sharing with about ten other passengers to freshen up before I got off the plane, but the people in this line certainly didn’t. Being all locked in a large sardine can for nearly nine hours, with just a couple of bathrooms to share between them, has not done most of them any favors. The BO is like a thick fog around me, making me want to dry retch, and as I look along the line, there are people who look like they have just gotten out of bed with their clothes all displaced and hair that needs attending. And don’t get me started on the kids that are crawling on the floor in and out of the line, touching other people’s bags and wanting to pat the airport security dogs. It just adds to the chaos when they are told they can’t touch them.

All I want to do is get out of here and find my personal space again. So thankfully, the closer I get to the front of the line, I can start to think about my plans and the call I need to make.

Finally, I’m through customs and picking up my bag from the carousel, and I head to the taxi rank and step into the first one waiting.

Giving the driver the address I’m heading to, I pick up my phone, pushing the number and hearing it ring in my ears.

“Forrest, everything okay? It’s late over there.” Ashton’s deep voice booms down the phone like he is on edge.

“About that. I’ve just landed in Chicago, and we need to talk. I’m on my way to your office.” There’s no need for idle chat.

“Fuck, is Harper with you? Why didn’t you warn me?” I can hear him tapping away on his computer, trying to work out what the hell is going on.

“No, it’s just me. Rem and Sandon have her under control.” Well, at least I hope they have.

“Oookkaayy. Want to tell me what’s going on then?” His typing has stopped, and now he is fully present in the conversation.

“I’d rather do that in person. I should be there in about an hour I’m guessing, with being in work traffic this time of the morning.” I grind my teeth in frustration because I hate sitting in traffic, and the sooner I can get to Ashton’s office, then the quicker I can do what I came here to do.

“Understood, and yeah, you picked a shit time to fly in. You should have messaged me, and I would’ve picked you up,” Ashton replies.