“Good morning,” James says. “How was your flight?”
“Eventful,” she declares. She drops her laptop bag on her seat and with hands now free, turns to go back to the buffet area. “Can I get you anything?”
He indicates his plate. Knife and fork neatly together and off to the side. Tomato-red smears give way to egg-yolk stains and watery-brown liquid with slimy remnants of mushroom. “I’ve had enough, thanks.”
She picks up a plate as she enters the buffet area. She gives the doughnuts and muffins a miss. The same with the cereals. That much sugar for breakfast and she’d have a headache by the time the first session ends. She settles for fruit with Greek yoghurt and toasted English muffins topped with fried egg, ignoring the rest. If she stuffed herself with pastries and pancakes, she’d have to double her gym time or be the size of a house by the time she goes home. She’ll leave those treats for break time when she’ll probably need a little lift.
As she slides into the chair opposite her boss, she points at the paper on the table. “What have you got there?”
“An itinerary. I worked it out on the plane.”
Anna nods. She might have done the same if she hadn’t been otherwise occupied.
“These sessions and workshops would be my recommendations. I’ll cover these,” James indicates his own list, “and then we can brief each other. I’ll check in with you at coffee time, and then we can meet up at lunch for a proper update.”
“Aye, aye, boss,” she says, gently teasing. James is a good supervisor and a great teacher. She is lucky to have him.
“If there is anything you’d rather go to, it’s no problem.” He looks at her earnestly.
“No. It makes sense to do it this way.” She takes the list. She’s down for In-Utero Foetal Resuscitation at eight. “It’s good.”
“Excellent. I particularly wanted to go to the talk on neuropathic pain, but they clashed. So what was eventful about your flight?” he asks.
Anna starts her story but midway through realises he isn’t listening. His eyes are focused elsewhere. She turns around to track where he is looking and sees him staring at the entrance podium. A beautiful blonde is waiting for the attendant to return. Her presence seems to have had a poleaxing effect on her normally level-headed boss.
“She’s pretty,” she remarks, oh so casually.
“Uh. Yes.” Her boss seems to return to consciousness.
“Why don’t we invite her over? She might be lonely.” Anna bites her lip to keep from grinning.
“That’s not necessary,” James says, flushing furiously. Then, as he sees Anna stand, his words take on urgency. “No, Anna!” And then panic as Anna beckons to the blonde. “What are you doing?”
Anna settles back down in her seat. Her boss has a few seconds to work on calming his flaming face before the blonde arrives.
“It’s heaving in here!” She looks around. “Can I sit with you?”
Anna pulls her bag off the remaining seat and pushes it out. Her boss appears tongue-tied as the blonde bombshell sits beside him. She shakes her flowing golden locks back and he seems to choke on his own tongue.
“James was just going to get himself something to drink. Can he get you anything?” Anna helps her boss along with good manners.
The blonde turns her melting amber eyes on him. “Oh, please. Coffee. Milk, no sugar.” She smiles her appreciation, and James falls over the leg of his chair as he stands to do her bidding.
“You might regret that,” Anna says as James disappears.
But Bella ignores her. “Who’s he?” she asks, nodding in the direction of the buffet bar.
“My boss, James.”
Bella’s eyebrows go up. “He’s young for a consultant,” she says.
“Not particularly. Perhaps he just looks younger. He told me when he first qualified he had to grow a beard so patients would take him seriously.”
“A beard wouldn’t harm. A consultant, eh? And you’re still in London?” Bella stares after him. “Is he single?”
“You’re joking?” Anna might have been lightly ribbing her boss, but it seems the joke is on her. She is so used to thinking of her James as … well, James. She struggles to make the leap to thinking of him as an object of someone’s desire.
“Oh? Sorry.” Bella puts her hand on Anna’s. “Is he yours?”
