she had to impress. She’d only met the man once. After being promoted to vice president of UK operations several months ago, she’d gone to New York to tour the company’s head offices. That was when she’d met Thomas, or at least seen him. They hadn’t been introduced. She and several other top executives had been in a meeting in Bastien’s office when Thomas had sauntered in—unannounced and without knocking—to spout a lot of gobbledy gook that Inez hadn’t quite been able to catch except to note that it seemed to be sprinkled liberally with “yos, dudes, and dudettes.”
Inez had seen enough movies to know he was talking like a stereotypical 90’s California surfer. She somehow doubted the old terms were still used, but it didn’t matter since he wasn’t from California and—as far as she knew—there wasn’t much surfing done in Southern Ontario. She’d decided it was all an affectation. He was just a lazy layabout youth, taking on this surfer lingo in a misguided attempt to impress someone.
It had turned out that Bastien had called for him to deliver something to one of his brothers. Thomas was nothing more than an errand boy, she’d realized, and that had simply confirmed her assessment of him. He was an Argeneau, but rather than get a degree and take a position in the company, he delivered things and talked like a stoned idiot.
Which meant, Inez thought now, that she’d been dragged out of her bed at five in the morning to pick up a man who had no importance, and probably didn’t have a good reason to be in the country other than to loaf on new shores. It made him nothing more than an annoying pain in the arse in her mind.
Unfortunately, the request had been made by Bastien, and he was someone she did want to impress. So Inez snatched the receipt the taxi driver handed her, said thanks, and then flung the door open and hurled herself out of the cab to charge toward the Arrivals entrance.
A glance at her watch as she raced through the pneumatic doors and into the milling people said she’d made it to the airport five minutes after Bastien had said the plane would have landed. Inez felt a moment’s panic, but then assured herself that he couldn’t have got through customs yet.
Reaching the busy arrivals section, she took a moment to orient herself, and then made her way quickly along the row of glass windows toward the gate where Bastien had said she should meet Thomas.
Inez was perhaps twenty feet from where she needed to be when she saw the doors slide open and the man she was there to meet walk out. Forcing a pleasant smile to her face, Inez picked up speed and called out breathlessly, waving a hand to catch his attention.
Her call had been faint enough, Inez didn’t think he’d hear, but Thomas did glance her way as he proceeded forward. He even seemed to notice her waving at him, yet he simply continued forward and out of the airport through the pneumatic doors in front of his gate.
Shocked at the apparent snub, Inez stared after him with shock, and then cursed and burst into a run as she saw him walking toward the row of cabs waiting out front. Tossing apologies left and right, she jostled her way through the crowd to the doors and rushed out onto the concrete just in time to see the cab he got into pull away.
Inez stared after the black cab, disbelief giving way to anger. She’d been dragged from her bed and rushed out here only to have the ignorant idiot hop in a taxi and ride off on her.
“Do you need a taxi, love?”
Inez glanced around at the question, and then sighed at the sight of the same smiling cabby who’d brought her to the airport. The man had burbled happily on about this and that and nothing at all the entire ride out from the core of London where she lived. Now she would no doubt get to enjoy the same happy burble all the way to the Dorchester hotel where Thomas was staying.
“What I need is a tea,” she
Inez had seen enough movies to know he was talking like a stereotypical 90’s California surfer. She somehow doubted the old terms were still used, but it didn’t matter since he wasn’t from California and—as far as she knew—there wasn’t much surfing done in Southern Ontario. She’d decided it was all an affectation. He was just a lazy layabout youth, taking on this surfer lingo in a misguided attempt to impress someone.
It had turned out that Bastien had called for him to deliver something to one of his brothers. Thomas was nothing more than an errand boy, she’d realized, and that had simply confirmed her assessment of him. He was an Argeneau, but rather than get a degree and take a position in the company, he delivered things and talked like a stoned idiot.
Which meant, Inez thought now, that she’d been dragged out of her bed at five in the morning to pick up a man who had no importance, and probably didn’t have a good reason to be in the country other than to loaf on new shores. It made him nothing more than an annoying pain in the arse in her mind.
Unfortunately, the request had been made by Bastien, and he was someone she did want to impress. So Inez snatched the receipt the taxi driver handed her, said thanks, and then flung the door open and hurled herself out of the cab to charge toward the Arrivals entrance.
A glance at her watch as she raced through the pneumatic doors and into the milling people said she’d made it to the airport five minutes after Bastien had said the plane would have landed. Inez felt a moment’s panic, but then assured herself that he couldn’t have got through customs yet.
Reaching the busy arrivals section, she took a moment to orient herself, and then made her way quickly along the row of glass windows toward the gate where Bastien had said she should meet Thomas.
Inez was perhaps twenty feet from where she needed to be when she saw the doors slide open and the man she was there to meet walk out. Forcing a pleasant smile to her face, Inez picked up speed and called out breathlessly, waving a hand to catch his attention.
Her call had been faint enough, Inez didn’t think he’d hear, but Thomas did glance her way as he proceeded forward. He even seemed to notice her waving at him, yet he simply continued forward and out of the airport through the pneumatic doors in front of his gate.
Shocked at the apparent snub, Inez stared after him with shock, and then cursed and burst into a run as she saw him walking toward the row of cabs waiting out front. Tossing apologies left and right, she jostled her way through the crowd to the doors and rushed out onto the concrete just in time to see the cab he got into pull away.
Inez stared after the black cab, disbelief giving way to anger. She’d been dragged from her bed and rushed out here only to have the ignorant idiot hop in a taxi and ride off on her.
“Do you need a taxi, love?”
Inez glanced around at the question, and then sighed at the sight of the same smiling cabby who’d brought her to the airport. The man had burbled happily on about this and that and nothing at all the entire ride out from the core of London where she lived. Now she would no doubt get to enjoy the same happy burble all the way to the Dorchester hotel where Thomas was staying.
“What I need is a tea,” she
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