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mine, which I’m still holding out.
    When I open my eyes again, Jonathan Huntington is looking at me. It’s his hand that’s holding mine. Gripping it firmly. Pleasantly. Reassuringly. He’s smiling and I notice that one of his canine teeth has an entire tip missing. It gives his smile a youthful quality, which I wasn’t expecting and makes me go weak at the knees. Or perhaps it’s just that I feel so incredibly embarrassed that my legs simply don’t want to hold me up anymore.
    “Miss Lawson, what a pleasure.” He still has no idea who I am. But he’s rescuing me. The warmth from his hand is spreading through my body.
    You should excuse yourself and leave, a voice inside me is saying loud and clear, but, as if frozen to the spot, I keep on staring at Jonathan Huntington’s face as if hypnotized. I just can’t get over how attractive he is.
    Then he lets go of my hand and I return to my senses. He indicates the tall Japanese man, whose age I find hard to guess.
    “May I introduce Yuuto Nagako, a business associate of mine, who has just arrived from Tokyo?” I turn around and nod at the man who is observing me with an odd, penetrating gaze. Jonathan Huntington says the names of the other four and they silently bow their heads, but I can only remember that the tall blonde is called Steven—I forget the other names right away. My brain doesn’t seem to be working properly.
    “And this is our new …intern, Miss Lawson?” Jonathan Huntington continues. He says it in a joking sort of way; it sounds condescending. Something in his tone makes me feel defensive. He really is very arrogant. That’s what my sister called him, when we looked at his photo together. She was obviously right about that.
    On the other hand, it gradually dawns on me that he didn’t expose me for my idiotic mistake and my gratitude soon outweighs all other feelings. If that’s what they mean by proper English manners, I’m willing to put up with a little bit of arrogance.
    “I …yes. From …Chicago,” I stammer, as if I were trying to explain why I behaved so incredibly stupidly. I can tell the Japanese man is getting impatient. I have the feeling that I wouldn’t have gotten away with it so lightly if I’d made a scene like that in front of him—at least, that’s how I interpret the way he’s still staring at me.
    At last my brain seems to have started working again. I feel lucky. I was so naïve; it hurt. Now at least I won’t have to spend the rest of my life praying the ground will swallow me. But if I stand around for much longer, that might change.
    “I must get going—to catch the subway. Because I’ve got an appointment to get to.” I look at Jonathan Huntington and the whole thing seems so absurd that I shrug my shoulders and can’t suppress a smile. “With you.”
    He raises his eyebrows in astonishment. “With me?”
    “Um, yes, no, I mean—with your company. You know. The internship.” Now I’m squirming again. For God’s sake, Grace, don’t try to be funny. After this performance, he’ll probably cancel their partnership with the University of Chicago because he’s had quite enough of the dim-witted American girls they’ve been bringing into the country. I should go before I make things even worse. “Well. Goodbye.”
    I grip the handle of my suitcase and pull it after me. The men step in closer to each other and start talking right away, closing the gap in their circle, as if they had just been waiting for me to finally leave. I turn around briefly once more, but when my eyes meet those of the Japanese man, who’s talking to Jonathan Huntington, I turn my head away at once. I sincerely hope they are talking business and not about me.
    I close my eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of the suitcase tugging at my arm, as I roll it along after me. Well, that was it—I met Jonathan Huntington. You did a great job, Grace, a really great job. When I meet him again at the office I can only hope he’s