She thanked him and was soon dining on slightly dry chicken and vegetables and rice. Still, it was hot and better than nothing. As she ate, she asked Kyle more questions about his clockmaking plans. “I think we left off with you telling me about how Claude mentored you as a clockmaker, but is that why you’re going to France? I can’t quite remember.”
“Yes. Claude sometimes spoke of the region he’d grown up in back in France. Not too far from the Rolex factory in Geneva. Apparently, there were a number of expert clockmakers in his region. So, I plan to explore, visit a few watch factories and clock companies, and I’ve even contacted some private clockmakers. Almost everyone’s been very welcoming. And if I find the right spot, I might do a short apprenticeship. Acquire some new skills. Rather ‘old’ skills. I want to make clocks the way they did a hundred or more years ago.”
She wiped her mouth with the tiny napkin that came with her meal. “How interesting. And after your apprenticeship ends? Will you remain in France?”
“I’m not sure. But my dream is to have my own clock and watch shop someday.”
“What a wonderful dream.”
After she finished her meal, Kyle pulled out his iPad. “How’s your French?” he asked.
She considered this. “Well, I haven’t really practiced much since high school, but I did bring a little handbook that I’ve been studying these last few days.”
“Good for you. I downloaded an English-to-French program. Want to brush up?”
“Sure.” She nodded. “What a great way to pass the time.”
Together they practiced some dialogues and did vocabulary tests and even played a couple of games. But after an hour or so, Simone felt the plane shifting, almost as if they were descending. “What’s happening?” She grabbed his arm. “It feels like we’re going down.”
He put his iPad back into the chair pocket. “You’re right. We are going down.”
“But it’s too soon. Paris must still be several hours away. We must be over the Atlantic right now.” She searched his face for answers, surprised that he seemed this calm despite their clear descent. “What’s going on, Kyle? What’s wrong? Why are we going down in the middle of the ocean?”
Before he could answer, the flight attendants announced that passengers should return to their seats, fasten their seat belts, and put their tray tables up to prepare for landing. The pilot said something too, but Simone’s mind spun so wildly that she couldn’t make it out. She didn’t need anyone to tell her what lay ahead. It was just as she’d predicted—they were about to plummet into the icy Atlantic Ocean. She closed her eyes and desperately prayed.
Chapter 5
ICELAND?” SIMONE REPEATED what Kyle had just told her following a somewhat bumpy landing, which to her relief was not in the ocean. “Why are we in Iceland?” She lowered her voice. “Have we been hijacked?”
“No.” Kyle chuckled. “You didn’t know this flight connects in Iceland?”
“I had no idea.” She peered out the window only to see darkness and blue runway lights passing by as the plane taxied toward the terminal. She turned back to Kyle. “I still don’t get it. I mean, Iceland? It seems a bit off the beaten path from Paris.”
“Well, it’s a shorter route to fly over the Artic Circle. And since you booked your flight on Icelandair—”
“I didn’t book this flight, my friend did.” She sighed. “I refused to take a nonstop flight from LA to Paris. . . . I was afraid to be in a plane for so long.”
“Well, Reykjavik is Icelandair’s hub, which is why they connect here,” he said. “That’s why the flight was so cheap.”
“And Paris?” she asked, feeling dumb.
“After this, it’s straight to Paris.” As the plane stopped, Kyle unbuckled his seat belt and, already, other passengers were standing up and gathering their things.
“Are we supposed to get off the plane?” She felt fully discombobulated now.
“I am. And you should too. There’s a ninety-minute layover. Nice chance to stretch your legs. Just grab your carry-on. Later you’ll reboard since this plane continues to Paris.” He stood, looking down the aisle to where other passengers were lined up to exit.
Still confused and curious about the time, Simone reached for her bag, extracted her phone, then waited for it to power up. When it did, she was surprised to see it was nearly midnight in LA. No wonder she felt so fuzzy, she should be sleeping soundly right now. She looked up to see Kyle about to exit the plane. He waved and smiled. Not willing to miss out on more time with him, Simone grabbed her things and hurried to get off the plane.
“What time is it here?” she asked Kyle as she caught up with him.
“About eight a.m.,” he said. “Want to get some coffee? Or some breakfast?”
“Breakfast?” She considered how it was midnight back home then agreed. Not because she was hungry, but because she wanted to be with Kyle.
When they were finally seated at a table with their coffees, Simone began to relax. “It’s good to be on solid ground again.” She sipped her latte and sighed.
“I have to commend you on how well you did on that flight.” He lifted his coffee to toast her. “Well done.”
“You mean in between panic attacks?”
He smiled. “At least the attacks didn’t last too long.”
“I really thought we were crash-landing into the ocean,” she confessed sheepishly. “I was preparing to die.”
“And here we are alive and well and about to have an Icelandic breakfast.”
Kyle’s order involved a large plate of meats and cheeses while Simone’s was merely yogurt and granola. But it was being with Kyle that made it special. Already Simone was imagining spending time with him in Paris. Oh, he hadn’t said anything specifically about this, but based on how he was treating her . . . well, it just seemed likely. They were just finishing when Kyle checked his watch.
“Uh-oh.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to have to make a run for it.”
“A run for it?” She frowned up at the clock in the café. “Our flight’s not supposed to leave for—”
“My flight leaves in fifteen minutes.” He laid some tip money on the table and stood.
“Your flight?”
“To Oslo.” He grabbed his bag, throwing a strap over his shoulder. “They’ve probably boarded. Sorry to dash out like this.”
“Oslo?” She stood. “I thought you were going to Paris.”
“After Oslo.” He pulled out his phone. “Hurry, Simone. Walk with me to the gate. It’s right over there. Give me your phone number so we can reconnect in Paris.”
She picked up her bag and followed him, calling out the digits as they jogged to the gate that was nearly empty. Then, after a quick goodbye and a surprising kiss from Kyle (on the cheek!), he was gone. For some inexplicable reason Simone felt more alone than ever. As she walked back to the gate for the Paris flight, she felt a lump growing in her throat.
After reboarding her plane and returning to the same seat, tears began to trickle down. She knew it was silly. Good grief, she’d only known Kyle for a few hours . . . and yet it seemed like a year. Besides, hadn’t he promised to get together with her in Paris? And what about that kiss? Did it mean something? Or was he just very demonstrative?