No Ordinary Day (35 page)

“No offense,” she whispered sleepily.

She awoke with a thump as the plane touched down at JFK.

It was an enlightening experience getting off the plane out of Coach. Briony had never waited more than a few moments to deplane before, escorted by assistants and security guards, being whisked through Customs and rushed to waiting limousines by men who talked into their earpieces. Instead, she now got to stand amid the great swell of humanity as passengers snapped open compartments all around and above her and pushed their way down the aisle. Briony decided that waiting was probably best all around, so she remained in her row until almost everyone had left the plane.

She smiled pleasantly at the crew, who returned her grin tiredly, and made her way through the airport to Customs, where her Sarah B. Windsor papers and insignificant belongings didn’t raise an eyebrow. She followed the signs to the baggage claim area at the bottom of the large escalators, where Claire had told her an escort would be waiting.

Standing at the bottom of the escalator was the ever-present line of drivers holding signs with names printed discretely on them. Dead center of the line, very much out of place among the young and middle-aged men and women in blue uniforms, was a portly, elderly elf of a man, still in fine physical shape with a full head of glorious silver hair. He was dressed in a spiffy black suit and chauffeur’s cap, wearing a pair of granny glasses and a broad grin, holding a sign that said
DAKS OR BUST
.

Briony laughed out loud, startling the woman checking text messages in front of her on the moving staircase and the man passing on the left at the same time.

It was all she could do to keep from shoving the whole line in front of her off the escalator.

Instead she waited impatiently, tapping her fingers on the hand rail. When she finally reached the bottom, she dashed to the elf-man and threw her arms around him, startling the other drivers and their passengers-to-be.

“Ed! Oh, Ed, I’m so glad you could meet me. Claire said the escort company already had you booked today.”

Ed Hillenbrandt slid her carry-on bag off of her shoulder onto his own and returned her embrace, patting her affectionately on the back.

“Wouldn’t have missed it, ma’am,” he said.

“You recognized me?” she whispered into his ear. “Even with the dark hair and fake chin?”

Ed chuckled, equally quietly. “I’d know you anywhere, Miss Windsor.”

“Shhh,” Briony said. “And be careful with that bag—it has my cameras in it.”

Ed bowed politely. “Indeed I shall. Come—I’ve already had your luggage wrangled. Let’s get you out of here and off to those mountains.”

Briony nodded briskly and adjusted her sunglasses, casting a quick look around her. No one was watching, as far as she could tell; traffic in the airport was steady this morning, mostly with business travelers, many of whom were trying to sort through their own drivers in the line.

She and Ed walked nonchalantly past the paparazzi and other wandering photographers looking for celebrities in the crowd. Most of them had already given up and were awaiting other flights, or had found marks among the first-class passengers. Briony let out a deep sigh, thankful again for her Coach seat, and followed her driver to where the modest black Cadillac sedan was parked amid a crowd of stretch limos and taxis.

Ed held the door for her, then got behind the wheel. “What’ll it be for your singing pleasure, ma’am?” he asked mischievously as he waited to pull out of his parking space.

“You decide,” said Briony. She opened her carry-on and checked her camera equipment. “I’ll sing along to almost anything, as you well know.”

Ed held up a battered disk. “ ‘Simon and Garfunkel in the Park?’ One of my favorites—I was at that concert, you know.”

“Perfect.” Satisfied with the state of her gear, Briony zipped the camera bag shut and leaned back against the comfortable seat, wrapped in the thick blanket and full-sized pillow Ed had provided for her, and closed her eyes. “You do realize that concert took place before I was born, right, Ed?”

“You are one mean lady, ma’am.”

“Trying my best.” She stretched out, eyes still closed, and joined in with her driver’s excellent tenor on
Mrs. Robinson
, singing Paul Simon’s part to his Garfunkel.

She woke in what seemed like no time later, feeling the car turning and decelerating from the endless straight line of the highway. Briony sat up woozily.

“What—what’s happening?”

“Bathroom stop. You may still be young and beautiful, but my bladder’s sixty-five.”

“Where are we?”

“Schenectady-ish. There’s a very nice, clean Wendy’s right up ahead.”

“Well, you always were the expert on where all the good restrooms are.” Briony hunted around for her purse, locating it after a moment on the floor of the car. “I need to go in, too.”

“I need to make some gas and mileage notations for the service before I go in,” Ed said as he put the car in park outside the restaurant. “You go ahead—it’s early, and the parking lot’s empty. I don’t think you’ll run into anyone.”

“Oh, bless you,” Briony said. She stepped creakily out of the car, then scurried into the side door of the building, opened the bathroom door and dashed for the single stall.

She was washing her hands at the sink, staring at the face she barely recognized in the mirror, when she heard a familiar pleasant tenor voice singing an Irish bar song which seemed to be approaching from outside the bathroom door.

It was getting disturbingly close.

Quickly she tore off a paper towel and dried her hands, then stepped hurriedly to the door.

Which opened, leaving her face to face with her driver as he crossed the bathroom threshold.

“Ed! What are you doing in here?” Briony demanded.

Ed blinked, then looked over his shoulder. He turned to face her again.

“You’re in the men’s room,” he said.

He pointed to her right.

Briony looked. The urinal was in plain sight, big as day.

Ed stepped out of the way as she raced out of the bathroom and through the restaurant door, dashing across the parking lot. The car’s lights flickered and bleeped as she approached; Briony looked back over her shoulder to see her driver standing at the restaurant window, laughing. He held up the car remote, then disappeared again.

She opened the car door and climbed into the backseat, mildly mortified.

A few minutes later, Ed was back in the car. He said nothing, but turned on the engine, put the car in gear and drove off.

After a long moment of silence, Briony leaned forward beside Ed’s right ear.

“I’ll give you ten thousand dollars if you never tell anyone what just happened,” she whispered loudly.

Ed chuckled. “Keep your money. I would never have anyway.”

“You’re the best, Ed. No matter what everyone else says.”

“May I make a suggestion?” Ed asked, turning back onto the interstate.

“Certainly.”

“Lose the fake chin. It’s really scary.”

“Oh—oh boy.” Briony tugged the latex appliance off her face, laughing, then rubbed the stinging surface of her skin where sticky trails of spirit gum remained behind. “I forgot all about it.”

“Maybe having five extra pounds attached to your throat is the reason you were snoring from the George Washington Bridge to the Thruway. That thing looks like skin harvested from a cow’s udder.”

Briony blinked. “Really? I was snoring?”

“Like a drunken sailor in a hammock belowdecks.”

Briony blushed in spite of herself. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just teasing,” Ed said, chuckling. “You’re far too young and pretty to snore, even when you’re disguised as an old fishwife.”

“Well, now that we’re out of the airport I can throw that thing away,” Briony said, moving it away from her on the seat. “It will be good to be home, to just be Sarah again. I intend to remain a brunette for the time being, however.”

“What name are you using in your new career as a photographer?” her driver asked as they passed a truck loaded with hay bales.

“My fashion photos will go out under ‘Briony’ still, assuming I ever get hired on again after my anonymous shoot. I’m not sure about the other stuff I plan to do yet.”

“You’ve got time,” said Ed.

“Indeed. Nothing but time.” Briony looked out the window again. The landscape had changed from the urban surroundings of the airport to the smaller buildings of the little riverside city. She stretched out and closed her eyes again.

“Wake me up when you can see mountains on both sides of you. And not before, please.”

“You got it.”