Carrot Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #10)(97)

“I’ve missed you, too,” Hannah said.

“So how long do you think it’ll take you to get here?”

Hannah did some fast calculations, taking into account the light Sunday night traffic and the fact that she’d just filled her gas tank. “Forty-five minutes,” she told him.

“Great! There’s an all-night diner across the street at the end of the block. I’ll get a table and meet you there. I’m hungry, and all I’ve had is airplane food.”

“I’ll be there,” she said. “’Bye, Ross.”

She clicked off the phone and tossed it back in her purse. And then she did something she’d never done before. She slid her gate card into the slot, drove in when the wooden arm rose to admit her, did a sharp U-turn over the flowerbed that acted as a center divider, and drove right back out again.

“Not rejected after all,” she said, grinning as she stepped on the gas and headed for the highway.