Finding Love's Wings Read Online Free Page B

get there."  
    I grab my purse and head down the hall. Rayne is on my heel the whole way. "Thanks again, Rayne," I say as I hit the button for the elevator.
    "Anytime, Cami. Please don't hesitate to let me know if I can get you anything." I hear the chime of the elevator’s arrival and the doors slide open.
    I nod, turn, and step in..

PART THREE

    Calvin, my driver, stops in front of the Hawaiian Airlines section of LAX. I step out of the car, and the warmth of the sun kisses my bare shoulders; I’ve traded my button-up and sneakers for a tank top and heels on the way to the airport.
    I'm blown away by the number of photographers and reporters surrounding the departure area. There are about six of them heading back to the larger group inside the media area. This isn't the first time I've seen this while coming and going from LAX.  
    As I walk along the terminal, I see several young women with cameras around their necks. My guess is that some major celebrity is expected, so they're camping out. The fandom is unreal. I watch as security hurries over to them. No doubt to tell them to move along.  
    I make my way through the rest of the departure terminal and into the first class lounge, passing through the security checkpoint there and bypassing the long public lines. One of the many perks of flying first class.  
    I enter a private room that's reserved for me. The room is decorated in olive green and various shades of brown, surprisingly un-tropical for Hawaiian Airlines. In the center of the room are a square table and four very old-school office chairs. I sit in the one that faces the window overlooking the parking garage, my back to the door. Within a couple of minutes, a lounge attendant brings me a turkey sandwich, pickle, and chips. It isn't much, but I don't care. I'm not that hungry.  
    As I eat, I browse through the latest online edition of Entertainment Now magazine. The contents aren't very interesting, but there is a really nice red carpet picture of Tristan Michaels. Dressed in a suit, he really is stunning. The black skinny tie, white dress shirt, and black pants and jacket really bring out his physique. The caption reads, "Tristan Michaels, outside Nokia Theatre at the premiere of friend Travis Jackson's latest movie Rebound , wearing Armani."
    "I could have told you that," I mutter to myself. Looking at Tristan's eyes I feel the familiar tingle crawl up my spine, a sensation that makes me feel like he is really looking at me. "Gah!" I mutter, and close the magazine.  
    If I'm really going to be honest with myself, I'm only trying to avoid the drama of the last twenty-four hours. Especially what happened this morning at the gravesite. Then, of course, my embarrassing daydream during that board meeting. My emotions are all over the place, and I just need to get clear of everything that is driving me insane of late.
    Suddenly there's a lot of commotion outside in the lobby: camera flashes going off and a bunch of people talking at once. It sounds like they're asking questions. Very abruptly, the noise is cut off and the silence returns. I shrug and pull out my iPod and headphones. Placing the earbuds into my ears, I am quickly distracted by the sounds of Chris Daughtry, which effectively block out all else.  

    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    Will this madness ever end? I know the answer and it's rather stupid of me to ask myself that question.  
    "You all right?" I hear Tyson ask.  
    "Yeah. Fucking people, I swear. They act like they've never seen a celebrity at the airport before. Though the EN reporter was a little too curious about some things. Obviously he was fishing for a comment from me." I take a deep breath.  
    "Yeah, he was a bit insistent." He turns and looks at the woman approaching us.  
    "If you will follow me, I have a room down the hall for you. We've made arrangements to have you escorted to the gate once boarding has completed."
    "Thank you." I nod as she turns and starts down the