Free Whisper Privileges by Dianne Venetta Page B

greet. Aromas
of pollo asado and croquetas de jamón beckoned her
belly, not to mention the plates of guava pastry she saw
splayed across the tables next to the ham and eggs. The city
leaders were offering an amazing taste of Miami for their guests
today, dishing out breakfast for the arriving athletes—it was all
she could do not to march back there and fix a plateful for
herself!
    But it was their way of showing the athletes
the best of their city and if you asked her, it was working. Her
stomach grumbled. Ah...but Cuban food was a weakness of hers. Add
the local celebrities on hand, the football and basketball players
easy to spot, the good-looking men and women most likely actors or
models or singers and you had VIP written all over the venue. Even
the esteemed Governor was on hand to take part in the welcoming
committee. But didn’t Javier say this was a big deal ?
    He did. A very big deal on a very large
scale.
    Watching the first plane touch down, with
another aircraft discernible in the distance not far behind, she
realized he wasn’t kidding. Captivated by the fancy jet as it
glided to a halt at the end of the runway, these kids were
certainly traveling in style. It made a sharp and steady turn, then
headed their way. She’d never been on a private plane before, let
alone one on this level of sophistication. Sleek and gorgeous, it
was polished to a shine and Sydney could almost feel wealth
dripping from its exterior.
    As an airport employee directed the plane to
stop, the cheerleaders formed two lines, making space for
volunteers and a miscellany of others to get in place along with
them where the athletes were set to disembark. Sydney maintained
her distance, marveling at how well the girls directed everyone
into an organized welcoming committee as the plane turned off its
engines. Several men wearing identical white ball caps, credential
passes hanging from their necks on orange lanyards stood waiting
for the door to open. Once opened, the flight of stairs popped out.
As if instructed on cue, they assisted a girl dressed in royal blue
T-shirt and white shorts as she intently navigated the steep flight
of stairs. The spectators waited patiently, but when she hit the
ground the crowd cheered.
    Appearing stunned, the girl advanced toward
them, engulfed in a mix of shock and awe, as though she couldn’t
believe all these people were there to see her . Yet she ate
it up just the same, Sydney noted, humored by her response as
several of the high school girls held their hands out to high-five
her. Others clapped their pom-poms together and Sydney was
heartened to see, did so with as much exuberance as if they were
cheering their high school football team on its way to play for the
national championship. When the girl neared the end of the line, an
older woman reached out and wrapped her arms around her, enfolding
her in a spirited hug.
    It struck Sydney that these people were
complete strangers to these kids, yet here they were, hugging,
clapping, high-fiving… Six more athletes decked out in the same
blue shirts and white shorts filed out of the plane behind her,
followed by the pilot. All made their way through the welcoming
line before an awaiting photographer corralled everyone back toward
the aircraft for pictures. Sydney sipped from her Styrofoam cup,
the aroma stiff and pungent, as the athletes—most of them in their
teenage years—stood shoulder to shoulder with their two pilots.
    “Squeeze in,” the photographer told them.
    Bodies sprang into action and smiles beamed
as they huddled close together.
    “You guys make this plane look good!” the
co-pilot commented.
    One of the girls giggled. “I feel like a rawk star!”
    Beyond them, Sydney heard the high-pitched
engines of another plane as it slowed to a park position nearby.
Her pulse snagged as she caught sight of a tall blond man jogging
toward it. He turned, summoned one of the golf cart type vehicles
to pull up to the rear and at once Sydney