“Other” bag … as in one bag?

The horror of her mistake hit her like a punch in the gut. “Oh, shit,” she said breathlessly.

Concern crossed Matt’s face. “Are you okay?”

Her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes locked onto his. “Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” she half-whispered, half-whined.

“Jules?”

“I left my carry-on …” She could barely get the words out.

“You left it somewhere?”

She nodded, mouth agape. “On the bus. From the airport.” Tears welled up, stinging her eyes.

“Okay, hey, it’ll be okay. Let’s get you upstairs and we’ll call them, okay?”

She felt a tear escape down her cheek, and she brushed it away like she was swatting a mosquito. Crying wasn’t going to solve anything. “I’m so stupid,” she spat out. How could she have forgotten her carry-on?

“Hey, don’t say that. We’ve all done stuff like this, okay? Come on, just follow me. We’ll sort it out.”

Jules was unconvinced. There was no way in hell that someone didn’t take off with her bag, the bag with all the presents she’d brought for Chloe’s friends, the bag with her—

Oh, SHIT!

With her passport.

There was never a good time to call a call centre, but this was possibly the worst—calling an airport shuttle bus company three days before Christmas. Jules had been in the queue on speakerphone for forty-two minutes. At this rate, she wouldn’t have any nails left.

Ash and Matt had been great, though, reassuring her. They’d each left something important somewhere. Ash had left her work laptop at Friday night drinks, only realising the next Monday morning. She got it back. And Matt had left his phone in the back of a cab. He got it back.

Perhaps there was hope. Jules hoped there was hope, because how was she supposed to fly back to the States next week without a passport?

“Hello, thank you for calling Sky Bus. This is Alicia. How can I help you?” Jules’s eyes flew to the phone. All the tension of the past hour threatened to overwhelm her, and she took a deep breath before she spoke, so she didn’t lose it.

She explained what had happened and gave a detailed description of the carry-on, as well as her best recollection of what time she’d boarded the bus. She was put on hold. Her stomach churned again, and this time it had nothing to do with jet lag or being overtired or the good-looking guy who stood watching her, his chocolate brown eyes intensely focused on her.

“Are you there?” said Alicia.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“We’re pretty sure we’ve got your bag.” Relief coursed through Jules and she blew out a long breath.

“Brilliant! I told ya,” Ash shouted from the kitchen. Matt patted her shoulder and Jules staved off the hysterical laughter bubbling up in her throat.

“That’s great. Thank you, Alicia. Where do I go to collect it?’

“You came into the Southern Cross station, yeah?” Jules looked at Ash for confirmation and she nodded.