Free The 7th Tarot Card by Valerie Clay Page B

get to the gate without a ticket.”
    “ Right, well . . . we can buy tickets, go to the gate, get incriminating pictures for Laini, then cancel our tickets. I think we can get a refund if we cancel before the flight departs.”
    “ Umm, in that case, I guess that would work. I can’t afford a trip to Vegas right now.”
    The line inched along painfully slowly until we finally made our way to the ticket counter. Mark was long gone at that point. “Two tickets on Flight 606 to Vegas please,” Julie said smiling.
    The agent, whose nametag said ‘Lupe,’ was a serious young Hispanic woman wearing gold, wire-rimmed eyeglasses, John Lennon style. Her long dark hair, brushed back from her face, was held in place by a black fabric headband. As she regarded us coolly, I got the feeling she’d seen more than her share of unique passengers. “Coach is sold out,” she said, still eyeing us unsmiling, “but first class has seats available.”
    “ That’ll be fine,” Julie replied as she handed the agent her credit card.
    First class to Vegas —I gulped.
    “ And when do you plan on returning?” Lupe asked, viewing us over the top of her glasses.
    “ Tomorrow early evening,” Julie responded. “What flights do you have around that time?”
    “ We have a non-stop leaving at six fifty-five P.M., arriving Seattle at nine thirty-five. Would you like that one?”
    Julie turned to me for a nod of approval. I stared at her blankly, so she answered, “That would be perfect; first class again please.”
    I jabbed Julie in the ribs with my elbow.
    “ What?” she said under her breath. “If we’re going to take an imaginary trip to Vegas, we might as well take it in style.”
    You can ’t argue with that.
    Lupe scrutinized us for a long moment, then asked, “Do you ladies have any luggage to check?”
    “ No, this is just a quick, overnight trip,” I explained, moving closer to the counter and reducing my voice to a confidential level. “A friend of ours is having a little emergency. Sort of a last minute thing. You know how that goes.” I flashed a winning smile. The agent furrowed her eyebrows, said nothing, but continued to process our paperwork.
    When she handed us our boarding passes she warned, “You’d better hurry; they’ve already begun boarding.” We thanked her and dashed off in the direction of the gate. As we approached the security area, my heart sank. An extensive, winding line of passengers, awkwardly removing shoes and jackets in preparation for the metal detectors, stood between us and the gate, and we were rapidly running out of time. We had no other option but to get in line and wait. On the wall to the right of the metal detectors, a large digital clock displayed the time of eleven forty-five. In fifteen minutes the plane would be backing away from the terminal.
    After a lengthy delay we finally made it through with minutes to spare, and sprinted down the busy concourse towards the gate. “Who knew it would take so long to get through security,” I shouted as we ran side by side.
    “ We could have made it through a lot quicker if you hadn’t argued with that officer about your hat. You just wouldn’t give up, would you? Even when he opened his jacket and started patting his gun.”
    “ I can’t believe they made me take it off. How embarrassing. I didn’t even fix my hair this morning because it was going to be stuffed under this stupid hat. Jackets and shoes are bad enough. You watch, one of these days, some crazy terrorist woman will try to smuggle a bomb in her bra, and then we’ll be forced to go through lingerie inspections.”
    We rounded a corner narrowly missing a cart , lights flashing, carrying a young man with crutches and several bags. “Sorry!” We shouted in unison as we separated and raced around it.
    “ At least your tie didn’t set off any alarms,” Julie yelled. That would have been a fun one to explain.”
    I was sweating like a racehorse when we finally reached