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The Seven Minutes

Seth pulls into the glamorous drive of a ritzy hotel in the heart of Boston. The second he takes the car out of drive, my door is tugged open by a balding gentleman in a red vest with gold hems.

"Good evening, Ma'am," he greets, extending his hand.

"Oh? Okay." I take the man's hand and he helps me from the car.

I catch a glimpse of his name on his name tag. Michael. And when I'm standing safely on the path leading to the hotel's entryway, Michael releases me and Seth takes his place, threading his warm fingers through mine. He tells Michael about our suitcases in the trunk. Michael nods and retrieves our luggage from the car. He keeps his fingers locked with mine as we approach a gold rotating door. I let Seth take the lead, and he pushes through one of the glass wings. We come out the other side unscathed.

"Seth!"

We turn in the direction of the shout, meeting the happy faces of Darryl, Jackson, and the rest of Seth's team. They wave us over and I'm tugged along. I admire the lobby as
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