“Where are the guys?”
Bree shrugged. “I can’t get hold of Lincoln.”
“Shall we head to the gate and wait for them there?” Eliza turned and carved a wake as they pushed upstream against the tide of traveling humanity. Bree fell into line with Eliza’s long stride, skipping on the occasional step to keep up with leopard-skin luggage.
Eliza slowed. “I’m so glad you decided to take advantage of Sam looking after the girls. You don’t know how lucky you are—the girls in my Pilates class don’t think he’s real.”
Bree chuckled. “Just lucky, I guess. Did you enjoy the show in Miami?”
Eliza nodded. “It was all right. It was good to see some sun again and get out of the cold for a while.”
“But didn’t you win a big award?”
Eliza powered through the crowd. “They give those things out like candy, so it was just my turn. Anyway, did Emily’s concert go well? I saw the photos you posted.”
Bree skirted a family parked in the middle of the walkway, juggling climbing children and a mountain of baggage. “She loved it, but a recital is a recital—five minutes of interest in a two-hour program. Oh, before I forget—” Bree rummaged through her handbag and drew out a small bracelet of painted pink-and-yellow beads and twine, shining with glitter. “Emily made this for her auntie Lize.”
Eliza slipped the bracelet over her wrist. “You tell her Auntie Lize loves it and I’ll wear it in Australia. How are Imogen’s singing lessons coming along?”
The crowd thinned as they approached gate 58. Bree and Eliza batted back the focus of their conversation to each other like Wimbledon finalists as they found two empty seats next to the window.
Eliza scanned the crowd for familiar faces. “We’re doing it again, aren’t we? Trying to downplay the successes in our lives.”
“I guess it’s what we do. You’re glad I’m taking time off from the family, and I’m glad you could fit this trip in with your busy schedule.” Bree squeezed Eliza’s knee. “I’m so glad you came.”
“I couldn’t leave you on your own and a promise is a promise, isn’t it? Plus, this trip has come at a good time, to be honest.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Eliza pursed thin lips. “The chairman has asked me to consider the CEO job.”
“So you’ll be running your own fashion label? That’s amazing!”
Eliza’s face showed she didn’t share Bree’s excitement. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I’m one step from the pinnacle of my industry, but something isn’t sitting right. Going to the middle of nowhere and dropping offline is exactly what I need at the moment. And I’ve been researching it. Did you know there’s an outback thing in Australia called a walkabout? Although I read somewhere they don’t call it that anymore. A journey of self-discovery—maybe I could do something like that. Find out what I’m supposed to be doing in life.”
“But you’ve got the perfect life. Aren’t you happy?”
Eliza gave the tiniest shake of her head as she continued scanning the crowd. “I feel like I’m supposed to do something different, you know? Something that means something—”
“But you’re so successful.” Bree couldn’t comprehend her friend’s perfect life being anything but a dream. “Unless this is about something else?”
Eliza rolled her eyes. “I hope you’re not referring to having a man in my life. I’m above all that biological clock nonsense, and I’m not really looking for Mr. Right, although I sure have dated a few Mr. You’ll Dos over the past year. I think it’s deeper than that. I thought I’d have changed the world by now.”
Bree put an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “What did you used to say to me in our dorm? You need to believe in yourself?”
Eliza smiled. “I do believe in myself. Maybe I’ve reached the point where I wonder if I’m believing in the right thing.”
“You and I can chat about it under the stars in outback Australia. At least it will be warm for us.” Bree surveyed the growing throng at the gate. “So we know Lincoln hasn’t changed since college, and do you think Andy has put on even more weight since the ten-year dinner?”
“Who knows? I’ve spent hours online trying to find him, but even my ninja skills on Google couldn’t uncover him. And that cell phone number he gave me at the reunion was disconnected.”
Bree leaned into her old friend with a conspiratorial whisper. “Have you worked out how you’ll handle Lincoln?”
Eliza shrugged as behind them a plane pushed back from the gate. “There’s nothing to handle. Check his social media—he’s doing very well for himself and seems like he’s enjoying life.”
“But what about those LinkedIn notifications you got saying he was looking at your profile?”
“So?”
“Twenty times?”
“It’s a free country, Breezy, and he was probably checking my contact details for this trip.”
“But twenty times? He hasn’t gotten over graduation, has he?”
Eliza laughed it off. “I would hope so. We should have all grown up since then.”
“Well, on social media it looks like Lincoln is living it up. It’s nothing but money and parties.”
Eliza frowned. “What did Professor Snowden always say? ‘Change is inevitable; growth is optional.’ But as I said, that’s ancient history.”
“Speaking of ancient history—” Bree leaped to her feet and waved at a tall man making his way toward the gate, sunglasses pushed up onto tousled brown hair that looked good despite the late hour. He wore a faded Switchfoot T-shirt under a linen jacket and chinos. “Linc!”
He beelined toward them, a huge smile splitting his face. Bree rushed to throw her arms around him. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“You too, Breezy. It’s hard to believe that the last time the three of us were together was fifteen years ago. It feels like yesterday.”
A heady cloud of cologne enveloped Bree as she shot a raised-eyebrow look at Eliza, before she gazed back into a familiar face that could have been lifted from their yearbook photo. He hadn’t aged a day either. She hoped Andy had been battered by storms in life similar to hers, if only so she could share the tag of ugly duckling. “You didn’t come to the ten-year dinner.”
Passengers milled around the gate as a shadow passed over Lincoln’s face. “Work was crazy so I couldn’t fly in. We’ve got this ridiculously long flight to catch up on all that anyway.” He peered past Bree. “Hey, Lize. Is it okay to still call you Lize or is Mrs. . . .”
Eliza stepped forward, and Bree clocked the smallest hesitation before their polite embrace. “Lize is fine.”
Bree stood dwarfed between two old friends who could easily have passed for runway models. Still.
Lincoln surveyed the growing crowd. “Andy not here yet?”
Eliza checked her phone. “No, and I couldn’t find him online either. How can you do business in the twenty-first century without being online?”
Lincoln scrolled through his phone. “I need to see the airline.” He charged off to a counter staffed by a flight attendant in a green-and-yellow uniform.