Come Fly With Me (2 page)

“Allison, you’re the only woman for whom I would give up the stranglehold I have on my bachelorhood.”
His
eyes
twinkle,
and
he
reaches
in
for
a
kiss
as
Frank
Sinatra
croons
New York, New York
from
her
mesh
beach
bag.
Grabbing
for
her
BlackBerry
in
annoyance,
she's
irritated
to
see
Jeremy’s
picture
pop
up
on
her
screen.

“Yes?”

“Ally,
remember
that
doctor
Mom
was
bugging
me
to
set
you
up
with?
Well,
he’s
available
now.”

“That’s
what
you’re
calling
me
about?
I
escaped
for
three
days.
My
phone
is
for
emergencies
only,"
she
said.

“This
is
urgent.
He
only
has
a
couple
of
days
off
before
he
starts
his
new
rotation.”

“You’re
an
E.R.
doctor.
You
of
all
people
should
know
what
constitutes
an
emergency.
I’m
hanging
up
now.”
She
clicked
her
phone
shut
with
a
snap.
She
could
go
for
months
without
hearing
his
voice
and
now
he
called
and
interrupted
her
fantasy.
What
had
George
been
telling
her
exactly?
Frank
began
to
serenade
her
again.
Kill
me
now,
she
muttered
as
she
saw
her
mother’s
face
on
the
screen.

“Mom,
I’m
on
vacation,
remember?”
Allison
forced
herself
to
speak
calmly.

“Of
course
I
remember.
I
just
spoke
to
Jeremy.”

“I
love
you,
but
we
will
not
be
having
this
conversation
now."

"Okay,
but
your
father
thinks
it's
time
for
you
to
settle
down."

"I
know.
I'll
get
right
on
it...
Love
you!”

She
hung
up
before
her
mother
had
a
chance
to
say
another
word.
Her
normally
non-meddling
mother
was
getting
involved
in
her
love
life
because
she
was
approaching
thirty—her
mother’s
magic
panic
number.
She
was
reacting
to
Allison’s
deep-down
ambivalence
towards
marriage
and
taking
matters
into
her
own
hands.

Ugh,
Clooney’s
and
Jeremy’s
faces
were
blurring
together
now—the
mood
was
gone.
She
packed
up
her
things
and
walked
up
the
beach
past
an
animated
game
of
volleyball
and
into
the
air-conditioned
atrium
of
the
hotel.
The
lobby
had
giant
palm
trees
lining
the
inside
that
stood
three
stories
high.
It
felt
so
airy
and
breathable,
a
welcome
change
from
the
cramped
and
bustling
city
streets
of
New
York

She
showered
and
decided
to
order
up
room
service.
The
softly
crashing
waves
as
they
pounded
against
the
darkening
sky
were
her
dinner
companions
as
she
sat
on
the
porch
facing
the
horizon.
They
offered
no
reproach,
only
companionship—would
that
she
be
as
lucky
in
her
real
life
relationships.
She
finished
her
meal
and
gathered
her
silky
hair
in
a
no-nonsense
pony
at
the
nape
of
her
neck
as
she
decided
an
after
dinner
drink
at
the
hotel's
bar
would
be
a
good
idea.

The
new-age
elevator
music
was
drowned
out
as
its
doors
opened
to
the
noisy
lobby.
She
noticed
a
big
screen
TV
and
observed
a
number
of
N.Y.
Giants
fans
watching
Monday
Night
football.
She
stood
off
to
the
side,
appletini
in
hand—cold
and
tart,
just
like
her.
The
camaraderie
of
everyone
groaning
at
the
bad
plays
and
cheering
at
the
good
ones
was
surprisingly
fun,
and
it
sure
beat
sitting
in
the
room
by
herself.

"Why
don't
you
put
that
fancy
drink
down
and
join
us
over
here?
I'll
get
you
a
beer."

Allison
set
her
icy-blue
gaze
on
the
red-faced
executive
in
the
wrinkled
shirt
offering
her
his
smile
and
chose
to
ignore
him.
She
felt
a
slight
tap
from
behind.
Her
stock
reply
of
'not
interested'
was
on
her
lips
as
she
turned
to
see
one
of
the
hotel
staff.
He
apologized
for
disturbing
her
and
told
her
she
had
a
phone
call.

She
walked
to
the
table
farthest
from
the
game
to
hear
over
the
din.

“Ally?”
It
was
Jeremy
again.

“Jeremy,
this
had
better
be
good.”

“It
isn’t.
Dad
was
in
a
terrible
car
accident.
He’s
on
life
support.
We’re
waiting
for
you.”

Allison
blinked
rapidly
as
she
tried
to
make
sense
of
his
words.
She
felt
the
blood
drain
from
her
face.
“Didn’t
they
teach
you
how
to
tell
bad
news
in
med
school?”

“Allison,
this
is
for
real,”
he
said.

His
gentle
tone
got
the
adrenaline
surging
back
into
her
system,
and
she
flew
into
immediate
crisis-mode.
“I’ll
call
Scott
and
have
him
file
a
flight
plan.
I’ll
be
back
in
a
few
hours.
Please
wait
for
me.”