It was the third Monday in a row that I was sitting at the same gate - I suddenly realized that I was actually in the same seat - at IAH. I started a new project three weeks ago, and I knew I'd become very familiar with this flight to Chicago over the next few months. I did a lot of travelling over the last three years since I got out of college, but I didn't mind it. I saved a ton of money, since the company paid for all my meals on the road, and I got to see some cities I wouldn't have otherwise seen. Of course, if I could have arranged it better, I'd be traveling to Chicago during warmer weather - NOT during December through March. But for some reason, my company didn't seem to care about my timing preferences.
I was reading my mail on my phone when I first noticed her. She was an average-looking woman with long black hair. What caught my attention was her backpack. The logo for my alma mater was embroidered across the center in the school colors. In smaller embroidered letters, I saw it said "Gymnastics". I looked back at the girl and realized she definitely had the body of a gymnast: thin, not too tall, small breasts. She looked very young - I assumed she graduated in the last year or two. My curiosity got the better of me, so I Googled my school's gymnastic team from two years ago, and there she was: Junior Whitney Madison.
At the gate, she was talking to two guys. One was maybe in his 30s, wearing a suit and tie. The other guy was much older, also wearing a suit and tie. She had on a navy-blue business suit with a white blouse. I almost felt underdressed in my jeans and button-down shirt. I watched her for a while as she listened intently to the two guys as they talked.
When we started boarding, I was in the first group thanks to my frequent flyer status, as was the older guy talking to Whitney. After I took my seat, I watched everyone board, keeping an eye out for Whitney. She eventually boarded, so I stopped my stalking, pulled out my phone, and continued going through email.
My week at work was pretty normal. Being in the western suburbs meant I didn't really have much time to do anything fun in downtown Chicago, but I made note of places I wanted to visit if I was still here when the warmer weather approached.
Thursday afternoon I was sitting at my gate at O'hare, and I was surprised to see Whitney and the younger guy who was with her on Monday. I smiled at the coincidence of seeing them again and went back to scrolling through my news feeds.
Monday morning, I was sitting at my usual gate - usual seat - when I saw Whitney and the other two guys walk up again. I looked up Whitney on LinkedIn and saw that she worked for one of the big consulting companies. She had a business degree with a major in information systems. Seeing her two weeks in a row, I wondered if she, too, was working on a project in Chicago that would involve extended travel. Later that week, once again, I saw her and one of the guys she travelled with heading back to Houston on my flight.
The following Monday, my suspicions were confirmed when I saw her once again. But this time, she was alone. I waited a bit to see if the guys showed up, but after fifteen minutes, I decided they weren't coming. Feeling bold, I decided to walk over to where she was sitting.
"You know," I started as I stood in front of her, causing her to look up, "I thought I was a pretty big fan." Then I pointed to the luggage tag with the school logo strapped to my carry-on suitcase. "But your fancy backpack puts me to shame."
She laughed.
"I was on the gymnastics team, and they gave them to us," she explained. "I'm Whitney," she said, extending her hand.
"Hi, Whitney, I'm Chris," I said as we shook hands. "Where are your bodyguards?"
She gave me a confused look.
"You know, the two guys that usually travel with you for protection. The guys who wear the suits, probably to hide their weapons."
She laughed again.
"Ahhhh. Bob and Tom. They're my managers. They went with me a couple of times to introduce me to the client and to make sure everything was going well." Then she paused and looked back at me with a serious face. "Wait, how do you know about them?"
Now it was my turn to laugh.
"I've been taking this same flight for five weeks now, and I've seen you at the gate with them."
Whitney smiled.
"I also noticed only one of them flies back with you on Thursday."
"You take that flight, too?" she asked.
"Of course. I've been stalking you for years."
She laughed out loud.
"Yeah, looks like we're on the same schedule. I'm working on a project for a client in the western suburbs, so I'll be taking these flights for a while."
"Oh, me, too," she said. "But my client is in the city."
"Mind if I sit?" I asked, pointing to the seat next to her.
"Please," she said.
We talked for a little while about our jobs, about school, favorite restaurants at school, and other general stuff. I learned we live in totally opposite directions in Houston, well over an hour away from each other. When our flight started boarding, I asked what group she was in. When she said five, I said, "Come with me."
We lined up, and we got to the gate agent, I said, "we're travelling together." The gate agent nodded and let her board with me.
Once we were in the jetway, she said, "wow, thanks. Bob and Tom never did that."
"I always thought they were assholes," I said, causing her to laugh out loud. "Stick with me. I'll take care of you."
My airline status let me reserve the better seats up front, so when I got to mine, I said, "this is me. See you in Chicago."
When I got off the plane, I waited for Whitney, and we walked through the terminal together. When we got downstairs, she was headed to get a taxi, and I was headed to the rental car shuttle bus.
"You on the usual Thursday flight?" I asked.
"Sure am."
"Okay. Then I'll see you Thursday," I said with a little wave.
Whitney smiled as she returned the wave, and we went our separate ways.
Thursday afternoon, I smiled when I got to the gate and saw Whitney sitting there. I sat next to her and we talked about our week at work.
We repeated this routine for a few weeks. I know I enjoyed the time I spent talking to Whitney; I think she enjoyed the time, too. After one of our Monday flights, we were walking toward the baggage claim on our way to her taxi and my shuttle bus. When we got on the escalator that goes down to the ground level, I turned to her.
"Any chance you're available for dinner one night this week? I don't mind driving downtown to meet you."
She smiled.
"Yeah, I'd like that. Sometimes I work later Monday to plan the week, but Tuesday or Wednesday would be good."
"Great," I said. "Let's do Tuesday."
"Okay," she said, again smiling. "But, you know, traffic will kinda suck if you're driving into the city at that time."
"Yeah, but you're worth it," I said.
She actually blushed, as she quietly said, "I'm glad you think so."
We exchanged phone numbers, and when we got to our usual separation point, I said, "See you tomorrow night. We'll figure out plans."
I was feeling really good when I headed out the door into the cold Chicago wind.
I asked some friends at work about restaurants and got a few recommendations. I checked ratings online and made a reservation at one in the West Loop. I texted the information to Whitney and asked if she'd like me to pick her up. She said it would be easier to meet me at the restaurant.
"Looking forward to seeing you" was her final text.
"Me, too" was my final reply.
Tuesday night, I made sure to leave work early enough to get me to the restaurant on time in spite of traffic. I stopped by the hotel to brush my teeth and then checked Apple Maps. According to the app, I'd get downtown much faster than I expected. So, I waited at the hotel a little bit before leaving, but I still left plenty of time just in case traffic got worse after I left. Turns out Apple Maps was right, and I got to the restaurant early. After leaving my car with the valet, I walked around a bit. But I made sure to get to the restaurant early just in case Whitney was early. I took a seat at the bar where I could see the front door.
Whitney showed up about ten minutes early. I waved to her from the bar, and she smiled. When I met her half-way, she gave me a big hug. I had already checked my coat, but she was still wearing hers. It was unbuttoned, so I managed to slide my hands inside the coat and around her lower back when we hugged. It felt really nice. When we broke the hug, I asked if she wanted to check her coat, but she said she'd keep it. She was wearing jeans and long sleeve thin sweater; she looked great.
After we got seated, we ordered drinks. She was incredibly easy to talk to and told some funny stories about her time on the gymnastics team - especially some of the trips to other schools. I learned that she had a steady boyfriend in college - one of the male gymnasts - but they broke up part way through her senior year. Like me, the constant travel allowed her to bank a lot of her salary, and she was hoping to buy a small townhouse as soon as she could.
After dinner, I offered to drop her at her hotel, and she accepted. When I pulled up in the circle drive, I put the car in park.
"I'll get out for a second," I said.
I walked around to her side of the car to meet her after she got out. As hoped for, she gave me another nice hug - and a short kiss on the lips.
"Thanks, Chris. I had a great time."
"So did I, Whitney. Thank you for meeting me."
"See you Thursday," we both said at the same time, and then started laughing.
The following week, I drove downtown again to meet her for dinner. We tried a restaurant in Greek Town that night, and it was good. But spending time with Whitney was even better than the food.
When we got back to the hotel, just before I was about to get out of the car, Whitney leaned across the console, put her hand behind me head, and gave me a long, very nice kiss.
"This was fun," she said when she broke the kiss. "See you Thursday."
After she got out, I sat motionless for a minute. I really liked Whitney, and it appeared she liked me, too. I looked forward to seeing her at the gate for our return trip.
As usual, I checked the flight status Thursday before I left the office, and everything was on time. Chicago was expecting some snow later that night, but it was long after we'd be out of there. I saw Whitney at the gate and sat with her.
After about twenty minutes, I got a notice from the airline that our flight would be delayed by two hours. Apparently, after taking off, our inbound aircraft had an issue, and they had to turn back. So, the plane was going to be late getting to Chicago. Whitney and I decided to grab dinner at one of the sit-down restaurants in the airport. We kept checking our phones as we got additional alerts about more delays. Finally, our inbound equipment left. As it got later and later, the weather got worse and worse. I was questioning whether we'd get out at all that night. Whitney looked pretty upset, and she excused herself to make a call. Finally we both got the alert at the same time: our flight was cancelled tonight and wouldn't be leaving until the morning.
I said, "SHIT!", and Whitney laughed.
"Let's get out of here," she said.
