The air outside the restaurant was hot and dry; it stank of jet fuel and deep-fry oil. The sun blasted down through a cloudless sky and the heat waves radiating up from the asphalt made it feel like there hadn’t been a breeze in days. Gus longed to be back in Santa Barbara, hanging out at the pier with Shawn, feeling the soft salt spray on his face. Instead he quickened his step and crossed the street to where a narrow concrete sidewalk snaked along the lanes of the airport entrance.

As he’d expected, the airport was practically deserted. Gus made a left at the Southwest counter and walked quickly through the narrow corridor that connected the two terminals. Fishing his driver’s license out of his pocket, he stepped up to the United counter.

The ticket agent glanced at Gus’ license, then typed his name into the system. “Looks like we’re up for a quick trip today, Mr. Guster,” he said. “We have you booked on the nine o’clock return flight tonight.”

“That’s right,” Gus said.

“Must be business, then,” the agent said, printing out Gus’ boarding pass. “If you were going to San Francisco for pleasure, there’s no way you’d be coming back in only six hours.”

“Business,” Gus agreed, feeling a sudden urge to confess everything to the complete stranger who was beaming across the counter at him. To explain everything he’d been feeling over the past couple of months and why what he was doing wasn’t really a betrayal. Instead he scooped up his driver’s license and boarding pass and walked toward the gate.

Chapter Six

Shawn glanced at his watch, then looked down at the popcorn shrimp and clam strips the waiter had just deposited on his table.