KARMA COLADA

Chapter Eight

DON'T show up.

Don't show up.

Leon repeated the hex in his mind, anxiously tapping his foot on the floor with the enthusiasm of a jackrabbit. Yesterday, he'd told Naomi to meet at the airport at precisely six a.m. From a quick glance at his wristwatch, Naomi had precisely fifteen minutes to magically appear under his nose before he leaves without her.

He was looking forward to that prospect rather immensely.

The flight from Seattle to Bangkok would take an arduous twenty hours and ten minutes, with a layover in Tokyo (a short one, if they were lucky), so Leon wanted to hop on the earliest flight possible.

At the corner of his eye, he noticed a hoard of rowdy, hormonal college students lining up at a check-in counter. He hoped they weren't going to Bangkok. Or this trip would end up more of a nightmare than he was prepared for.

Out of nowhere, somebody ran over his foot (the tapping one) with their hefty luggage bag, causing Leon to cry out in agony—more out of concern for his expensive Italian leather shoe, rather than his actual toes.

"Sorry, bro!"

Leon glared at his offender, a guy about twenty wearing top-to-toe Adidas with a nose piercing and a haircut that strongly resembled a llama.

He looked unperturbed by Leon's rage, turning to his gaggle of identical llama-like friends to laugh boisterously, before sauntering over to the check-in counter to join the rest of his herd.

Leon had to take a massive breather to stop himself from turning into the human equivalent of a fire-breathing dragon. At that precise moment, a gentle cough yanked his murderous glare away from the college students, and Leon whipped around to see Naomi staring at him, obviously having witnessed what just happened.

"Is your foot okay?" Naomi asked with genuine concern, cocking her head innocently. His eyes immediately flew to the large straw sunhat on her head, before falling to her bohemian dress and matching sandals. Leon scoffed, annoyed.

Did she think this was a fucking holiday?

"I'm fine," he replied curtly.

"Are you sure? Looked like he was lugging a human in that bag."

Sure felt like it, he wanted to add, but bit his tongue to preserve his wounded ego.

Instead, Leon straightened his navy blazer in an effort to appear more composed and quipped, "I wasn't sure you'd show up. In fact, I was hoping you wouldn't."

Naomi offered a brilliant, megawatt smile in return that nearly blinded him.

"I told you I would. One thing you should know about me is that I always keep my promises, Fitzy."

Leon recoiled in instant disgust. "Fitzy?"

"Yeah. From now on, I'm calling you Fitzy whenever you're being incredibly rude to me. So you'll learn not to," she practically sang, setting a fire to his already raw nerve endings.

"Then I'll call you Nosy."

Naomi's eyes widened into saucers and Leon reveled in this tiny, but significant victory.

He continued, "Whenever you're causing trouble, which I bet, is a common occurrence where you're concerned — so start getting used to it." Leon turned on his heel and stomped towards the nearest ticket counter.

When Naomi refused to budge, he taunted loudly enough for everyone around them to hear, "Come along now, Nosy!"

That sure snapped her out of it, because she started trotting after him like a pint-sized dynamite, all red-faced from strangers staring at her.