Although Veetie was disenchanted with her love life to date, she was far from the motivated career woman she now professed to be to her personnel department during her biannual appraisals. Secretly, she remained a home-loving romantic, still deeply wanting to believe in love at first sight. In the three years that had passed since she left Pete, she had been looking for her White-Knight-Mr-Right, and hoped that the simple act of looking might be enough to help her find him. If she’d had to sum up her first impressions of Rashid in three words, she would have said, Distinguished, Kind, Gallant. Everything that she was expecting of her White-Knight-Mr-Right. She looked at Rashid hopefully, wishing that she might catch his eye and start a conversation, but Rashid was unused to being the object of any sort of attention, least of all female attention, and didn’t notice. So Veetie took a deep breath and, leaning forward, asked, ‘Will you let me buy you a drink? It’s the least I can do, for helping me, I mean.’ She’d intended to hold out her hand and introduce herself, but Rashid looked up and looked shocked. Oh God, she thought, spotting the tomato juice at his side, perhaps he didn’t drink, perhaps she’d mortally offended him. Or perhaps he didn’t think that women should buy drinks for strange men at airports.

After what seemed an eternity, but was really just a moment, Rashid spoke. That’s very kind, but the drinks in the lounge are free, you know. You don’t have to buy them.’

Veetie felt heat rising back to her cheeks. ‘I didn’t realize,’ she said apologetically, before admitting, ‘I don’t fly Business Class very often. In fact, I don’t fly Business Class at all. This is my first time.’ Rashid was charmed by Veetie’s candour, her refreshing honesty, and looked at her properly, noticing her hesitant smile and her pink and white complexion heated by the delicate flush. With her blonde hair untidily falling out of what had been a neat chignon earlier in the day, she seemed really quite young. Remembering her comment at the front desk, he wondered who her obnoxious colleagues were, who had left this frail, pale English rose to carry their things while they rudely excluded her from their drinks gathering.

’But thank you very much for offering, Ms …?’