<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Lauren Embry</strong></span><br/><br/><br/>(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/46/Trilby_Paradise_Lauren01.jpg)<br/><br/><br/><em>“Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at Key West International airport. Please make sure one last time your seat belt is securely fastened. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.”</em><br/><br/>Lauren handed her plastic cup to the flight attendant with a brilliant smile.  Even with a one-hour layover in Atlanta, the flight from Baltimore to Key West was only four and a half hours; they would touch down around 2:30.  Monica provided the vacation week, so Lauren provided the flight.  It was only fair.  It was actually Alan who had paid for the condo: Spring Break in Key West, the prize in a silent auction to benefit the Symphony Guild.  But that was before the separation.  Monica had picked up the notification of the winning bid and the reservation paperwork herself, and as far as Lauren knew, she never even mentioned it to Alan.  If he even remembered the silent auction, he probably thought he’d been outbid.<br/><br/>She hoped not.  She really wanted that son of a bitch to know that Monica had taken it away from him.<br/><br/>The plane made a wide, sweeping turn, and began the descent.  When they landed, they could bypass the luggage carousel and go straight to the car rental.  Lauren had only brought her carryon, and an oversized shoulder bag.  A couple of changes of clothes, and a few swimsuits.  If they needed something else, they could get better beachwear in Key West than they could in Baltimore.  And anyway, she had already raided Amy’s closet for a few things to wear.  Since…  that had happened…  the thing with Richard… she had lost weight.  Maybe too much.  But she was wearing a twenty-year-old’s tight, faded skinny jeans and a pale pink gauzy top, and knowing it made her feel…  almost good.  Just as long as she didn’t look silly.  A woman her age….<br/><br/>All around them, the men in Business Class began closing up their laptops.  She and Monica were the only women in that section.  When they boarded, they saw mostly a collection of haircuts as the man looked down at their tiny screens, typing away at spreadsheets and presentations.  Everyone sitting around them wore sharp black suits and crisp white shirts, and the ones who bothered to look up just nodded to the two women, and went back to their laptops.  A few times, though, she caught one or another of the men stealing sidelong looks at Monica.  And no wonder.  Monica was gorgeous, and exotic, and incredibly talented.  Alan was a first-class jackass, and one day he would know that.<br/><br/>Because there just had to be some kind of moral justice in the world.  People had to pay for the things they did that hurt other people.  If you broke faith with someone, there had to be some kind of divine retribution.  Otherwise, where was the balance?  Where was your equilibrium?  What goes around, comes around.  What you do to someone else comes back to you threefold.  Lauren just hoped that she and Monica were there to see it when Alan got his payback, because it was sure to be earth-shattering.<br/><br/>The plane touched down with a series of soft bumps, and Lauren’s hands gripped the armrest tight, and she held her breath.  She wasn’t afraid of flying.  Landing, though….  That was always a little nerve-wracking.  She’d never quite gotten used to that part of it.<br/><br/>But the pilot brought the plane in without incident, just like always.  Lauren let go of the breath she was holding, and leaned across Monica to look out of the window.  It was a beautiful, beautiful day -- the sun was golden, the air was clear, and the clouds looked sharp and bright.  There were even palm trees off by the highway!<br/><br/>She closed her hand over Monica’s for just a moment.<br/><br/>“Thank you again for bringing me,” she said.  “We’re going to have such a good time!”<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>