“You think?” I say and we bothlaugh.
“And I usually sit alone during flights to Milan. I purchase both seats to save me the headache of some oddball sitting next tome.”
“Are there many oddballs in firstclass?”
He tilts his head. “You’d besurprised.”
Hours have passed by much quicker than I expected for an eight-hour flight. Antonio and I have spent time eating, reviewing lingerie catalogs of competitors, discussing details of the ball—all of which soundamazing.
He leans back in his seat, placing his folded hands in his lap. “Enough work stuff. Let’s move on to more personalthings.”
I too lean back, turning my head to face him. “Personal?”
Offering a side grin, he looks at me with intent. “Yes. I think we should take time to learn more about each other, given we will be spending nearly two weekstogether.”
“Okay. And how do we accomplish that? Play twenty questions orsomething?”
He chuckles. “How about just three. Tell me three things no one knows aboutyou.”
I could go all out and tell him at least one thing no one knows: I think I may have a crush on my new boss—despite the fact that I’ve sworn off men and there is theNonnafactor.
But I think it’s best to keep this one all tomyself.
