II

Ann let out the breath she had been holding. There in front of her, taped to the sheet of paper, was a photo of her parents, her little sister, and Ann herself. Ann grabbed the seatbelt buckle off and nearly fell into the aisle. She ran as fast as the now-landing plane allowed her. "Ma'am, you must return to your seat immediately!" A middle-aged, fierce-looking female flight attendant practically yelled at her as she blocked Ann's path. "But I have to see the man who just walked up here...I mean, he was a flight attendant..he..." The woman cut Ann's sentence off. "I will have to contact the cabin and inform them to have security waitin' for you at the airport, honey, if you don't go back to your seat this second. You can see your man later." Ann returned to her seat and buckled her seatbelt. Her cheeks flamed from the stares of nearly all the passengers in her part of the plane. "Oh, who cares what they think!" Ann thought annoyedly. She looked down at the paper with the photo, now a bit rumpled from her flight down the aisle. That picture had been taken by a waiter at a fine restaurant in Saint-Jean-de-Luz, France, during the Haymoures' last vacation--two years ago. That had been the family's last outing together. The week after that vacation, Ann's father, mother, and little sister had mysteriously disappeared. The authorities from Interpol had told her that they had been abducted; no ransom note was ever received, and a year later Interpol had contacted Ann to say that Lord and Lady Haymoure and their 5 year-old daughter were "believed deceased". The officers who came to tell her this news made it clear that nothing else could be done, and that she had best make plans to have her father's estates and vineyard transferred to her name. These formalities done, Ann was now on her way to a new life, ready to put the pain of the past two years behind her. She was about to accomplish her lifelong dream of being a journalist in America, her birthplace. Ann continued to stare at the photograph of the happy, smiling faces. Her little sister Emilie was smiling one of her exaggerated smiles that scrunched up her little button nose. Ann couldn't help a sad smile at the memory of her darling little sister. But indignation soon took over. Ann looked around again for the flight attendant. "What is up with this dude anyways?? Who is he, and WHY did he have a picture of my family?" she thought to herself. Ann carefully removed the photo from the paper and turned it over. She raised an eyebrow as she read the three hastily scrawled words: "beware a romeo". "Oh really! This is too much! The flirt has the nerve to assume that just because he has a picture of my family I'll give him a second look! 'Beware of a romeo'. Honestly. " Ann was angry now. She would find that no-good sneak and ask him a thing or two! The large Air France 777 had now landed and was already taxied to the terminal. Ann hadn't even noticed the landing! "Well, for once!" she thought with a wry smile. She put her iPod in her purse and placed her ticket and passport in the outer pocket, and put her black dress coat on so she wouldn't have to carry it. "Messieurs, Dames, bienvenue a New York. Le Commandant de Bord vient d'etteindre les signaux lumineux..." The rehearsed "exitting speech" was the same in every airline. Next it came in broken English, but Ann wasn't paying attention. She had already unfastened her seatbelt, gathered her purse and laptop from under the seat, and was waiting impatiently for the line to move forward.