Read Smash Cut for Free Online

stretched his limbs, and craned his neck to look behind him. Seat 5C was empty. He glanced toward the lavatories and saw that both were occupied.
“Coffee, Mr. Mitchell?”
“Bless you, my child.”
The flight attendant smiled and reached across him to raise his window shade. He looked out and saw terra firma several miles below. He never failed to get a maudlin lump in his throat when he caught his first glimpse of the USA after returning from overseas.
He was ravenous and scarfed down the ham and cheese croissant. He drank a cup of black coffee. “We’re about forty-five minutes out,” the attendant told him as she poured him a refill. “Don’t forget to fill out your customs form.”
“Sure thing.”
When one of the lavatories became available, he got up and took the provided toiletry kit with him. He used the toilet, washed his face and hands, brushed his teeth, and swished with mouthwash. Before he left, he gave the enclosure a glance and shook his head, chuckling to himself, still disbelieving that he’d had incredible sex in such an unaesthetic place.
He noted as he returned to his seat that 5C was still empty. He imagined—
Christ! What was her name?
His mind did a rapid rewind, then replayed everything they’d said. No, he was certain she’d never told him her name. No wonder she’d been reluctant to continue the flight sitting beside him. She must think him a prize jerk.
He stared out the window for several minutes, castigating himself for behaving like a heel over the name issue. When he looked forward again, he noticed both lavatories were unoccupied. He whipped his head around. She was in her seat.
He had missed her passing down the aisle! How had he done that? He’d had his head turned away. He hoped she didn’t think that had been intentional and he was trying to avoid her. He tried to get her attention, but she had her head on the headrest, her eyes closed.
He was considering getting up and going to talk to her, but the announcement was made that they were on their final approach into Atlanta, that all passengers were to remain in their seats with their seat belts fastened for the remainder of the flight.
He looked back at her, ignoring the people in the seats behind his, who had to be wondering what in hell he was looking at. He willed her to open her eyes, but she didn’t.
The pilots executed a textbook landing. Impatiently Derek endured the long taxi to the terminal. As soon as they were allowed to stand, he shot from his seat and moved into the aisle. But those passengers between him and 5C had crowded into the aisle, too. They were retrieving their possessions from the overhead compartments and heading toward the exit doors between cabins. In the crush, he lost sight of her.
Outside the Jetway, the flow of passengers had become a stampede toward the reentry gates. He couldn’t see her ahead of him and guessed that she’d had to be swept along or get trampled.
He was pointed into a passport check line by a government official who didn’t want an argument. He continued to scan the throng of passengers from his flight, as well as those from several other overseas flights that had arrived at virtually the same time.
Finally he spotted her three lines over and well ahead of him. He waved, but she didn’t see him. He decided it would be more convenient to rendezvous in baggage claim than to try to make his way to her now.
It seemed to take forever, but he finally got through the passport check. In the baggage claim area, he rushed to the designated carousel and saw her on the far side of it, wrangling a suitcase off the conveyor.
Dodging passengers made short-tempered by weariness, he made his way toward her. She stopped when she saw him threading his way through the crowd.
He didn’t stop until only inches separated them. He smiled down at her. “I’m an idiot, and a first-class jerk. I don’t even know how to say hello, because I failed to get your name.”
“But I have yours.”
He was taken aback, not so much by