“You cold?” Travis asked, no doubt noticing Geoff had suddenly shivered. He reached above his head to the heating control switch, but Geoff assured him he was fine. Travis smiled, then grabbed his guitar and played while Geoff watched and drank from the bottle of beer that was going warm in his hand.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. McAllan, but dinner is ready to be served as you ordered.” The flight attendant led the way. The table was covered with a crisp white cloth and set with crystal wineglasses. The cabin lighting dimmed as Travis and Geoff took their places and began the meal. While they picked at the crusty Italian bread and salad, Geoff looked alternately into Travis’s eyes and out the window at San Francisco far below, a blaze of twinkling lights in the darkness. He was flattere
