She's meant to be catching flights, not catching feelings...
Molly and Andrew are just trying to get home to Ireland for the holidays, when a freak snowstorm grounds their flight. Nothing romantic has ever happened between them: they're friends and that's all. But once a year, for the last ten years, Molly has spent seven hours and fifteen minutes sitting next to Andrew on the last flight before Christmas from Chicago to Dublin, drinking terrible airplane wine and catching up on each other's lives. In spite of all the ways the two friends are different, it's the holiday tradition neither of them has ever wanted to give up. Molly isn't that bothered by Christmas, but--in yet another way they're total opposites--Andrew is a full-on fanatic for the festive season and she knows how much getting back to Ireland means to him. So, instead of doing the sane thing and just celebrating the holidays together in America, she does the stupid thing. The irrational thing. She vows to get him home. And in time for his mam's famous Christmas dinner. The clock is ticking. But Molly always has a plan. And--as long as the highly-specific combination of taxis, planes, boats, and trains all run on time--it can't possibly go wrong. What she doesn't know is that, as the snow falls over the city and over the heads of two friends who are sure they're not meant to be together, the universe might just have a plan of its own...
