“We’re in Orville & Wilbur’s near Gate E, by the window,” said Alex’s text message. The restaurants always seemed to be better on the inside of the airport, once through security. Probably because of the captive audience, Leigh mused. Once you’re through, you have time to kill and mouths to feed.
She found Alex and Sylvia quickly, seated at one of the tables overlooking the apron and the runway beyond. In the distance was the skyline of Boston. Alex had a beer in front of ...