Hit & Mrs. by Lesley Crewe Page B

kid’s hysterical reaction. The mother threw cold water on her face. Bette wished she’d do that to the baby.
    â€œI’m sorry, but I really have to go, or I’ll miss my ride.”
    The mother wiped her face with a paper towel and reached over to claim her enraged child. He let her know what he thought of the whole situation. He barfed all over her.
    â€œOh God.”
    â€œOh dear.” Bette passed her some more paper towels. “He’s not very happy, is he?”
    â€œHe can join the club.”
    A few other women got into the act, so Bette picked up her bag. “Good luck, dear.”
    â€œYeah, thanks.”
    Bette went out the door with the wrong bag.
    Two things happened then. Bette walked over to Augusta and told her about the uproar in the bathroom as Linda and Gemma showed up. And the young mother tidied herself as best she could and put her still-screaming baby in his stroller. She reached into the carry-all for Keaton’s soother and just about fainted when she realized the bag wasn’t hers. It was filled with someone else’s stuff. It had to be the red-haired lady’s.
    She began to shiver almost uncontrollably, unsure whether to run after the woman or call her contact outside. In the end, she reached for her phone, because she couldn’t run through the airport with a stroller without having people notice her. She took the stroller and the bags into an alcove. Her fingers were suddenly too big for the cellphone. She fumbled with the number a couple of times. “Work, goddamn you.” She tried again. It rang once.
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œI’ve lost the bag.”
    â€œ WHAT ?”
    She started to cry. “It happened so fast. A woman grabbed it. It looked like mine, so she must have mixed them up.”
    â€œWhat woman?”
    â€œI’m not sure.”
    â€œ What woman? ”
    â€œShe’s short and has red hair. She’s travelling with another woman named Keaton, who’s tall and blonde, very pretty. I think there were four of them. She said they were going to the…where was it?…The Waldorf, I think. She just left. You can still catch her.”
    â€œYou better hope I do.” The phone went dead.
    The young woman’s teeth began to chatter. “What have I done?”
    Once the four friends reunited, the rush was on to find the car company that was supposedly waiting for them. They went out the door and looked around. Just then a black car sped up to them. The driver jumped out.
    â€œKeaton?”
    Linda gave a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness. We have reservations.”
    â€œYes. For the Waldorf?”
    â€œThat’s right. Thank you.”
    â€œYous guys are getting soaked. Why don’t you get in?” He popped the trunk and reached for their bags. He stowed them away. “I can put your carry-on bag in here too.” He reached for Bette’s first.
    â€œThat’s okay. I’ll hold onto it.” The others felt the same, so he slammed the trunk and Linda got in the front seat with him while the others crowded together in the back.
    The driver took off with unseemly haste. As they peeled out, Linda said, “Whoa. After that flight, I have no intention of being killed on my way to the hotel.”
    â€œYou’re in New York, lady. This is the way we drive. If you don’t like it, walk.”
    Bette clapped her hands. “Oh yes, we really are in New York. You sound like a real cabby.”
    The driver glanced at Linda. “Your friend’s a genius.”
    For some reason, the four friends found this hilarious. The realization that they were actually on their way to Manhattan hit them at the same time. They chattered away like magpies.
    The drive into the city was a Formula One race. It was thrilling and scary all at the same time. The rain-spattered windows made it hard for them to see clearly, and they fogged up the glass in their attempts to see if