III

As Ann made her way down the aisle, she craned her neck to see ahead of her. Where had he gone? She was nearly to the front of the plane now, but hadn't seen any sign of the male flight attendant. At the front of the plane, the female flight attendant who had gotten after Ann for leaving her seat stood with a smirk. "Found your man yet, darlin'?" Her New York accent and masculine mannerism annoyed Ann. "No, as a matter of fact, I haven't. And I would like to see the captain at once, please." The woman sized her up with a disdainful eye. "Oh, you do, do you? Well I'm afraid--" At that moment the captain exited the cockpit. "Did I hear that I am a wanted man?" he asked with a French accent and warm smile. Ann blushed. "Hello Sir. I am looking for one of the flight attendants. He seems to have disappeared, and it is extremely urgent that I find him...on strictly personal business." Ann asked him in French. The tall, dark-haired captain raised an eyebrow. "I see. Well, Marge here, she can give you a list of the names with photographs. If you can point him out to me, I'll call him for you on the PA system. Flight attendants are not supposed to leave the aircraft before all the passengers are gone. Marge, don't look at me like that--I know we're not usually supposed to show the list to anyone, but I'm making an exception in this case--please show Mademoiselle the list." Marge gave Ann a dirty look. She turned around and reached into a compartment beside the cockpit door, pulled some papers from a folder and thrust them at Ann. "Thank you kindly," Ann told her sweetly. Her eyes skimmed the photographs of several flight attendants, but she did not see the man who had slipped her the paper. "I don't see his picture here." Ann said. "But I am sure he was on this flight and that he was wearing a flight attendant's uniform!" The captain nodded thoughtfully and said "Well, once in a while we get a last-minute replacement and we do not get their info. Check at the Delta/Air France information counter as you leave. They should have all of the info you need." He smiled, "I am sorry I could not be of more help to you." "That's okay," Ann told him, "I appreciate your help very much." She smiled and left the plane.

Ann hurried to get her luggage after quickly passing through Customs, and then made her way to the Delta info counter. "Excuse me, but I need to some information about an Air France flight attendant. I was told by our plane's captain that you could help me." The man glanced down at something on his computer before he answered her. "Ah yes...uh, well, actually ma'am, you need a special permission slip for me to release any uhh.. such information to you. Umm...do you have that? The release slip, I mean." Ann was getting more exhausted by the minute, but she must find out what the mysterious man knew about her family! "No, I don't have one. Where can I get one, please?" The young man did not appear to be listening to her. He was glancing down at his computer screen again. "Uhhh...yeah, um, well you need to get it from the director of security of Air France." he again looked away from her. "Well, can you tell me where I can find his office?" asked Ann with forced patience. "Umm..no, I actually can't give out that information." This was getting worse than in France! There you'd eventually get what you wanted to know out of the person, even if you had to hem and haw for an hour. "Excuse me...but are you Miss Haymoure?" boomed a loud and jovial voice from behind her. A tall, very handsome European-looking man stood with his eyebrows raised expectantly. "I am Henrico Santez (call me Henri), Mr. Lannabe's personal assistant. Ann stammered her response. "Umm..yes, yes I am." She felt very stupid and unprofessional. This was her new boss' personal assistant, and all she could do was gawk like a schoolgirl? She quickly regained her composure. "You'll have to forgive my jetlag." Ann smiled properly but sincerely. "Ah, well, I always blame my first week's mistakes and blunders in a new place on jetlag. And anybody who has travelled much themselves readily accepts the excuse!" Henri said with an unmistakably Spanish (or was it Italian?) accent. He continued "The "Big Boss" as we call him, Mr. Lannabe, that is, asked that I "pick you up"--haha! --no pun intended Miss Haymoure--and give you a little reconaissance tour of your new workplace." He winked at her. "The 'Space Needle', or 'Le Needle' as we call our great news tower! Here we are. And here is my new beauty. A gift to myself for being a good boy. Ha ha! My own little 'Black Beauty', she is!" As he talked--non-stop, Ann thought tiredly--they had walked outside to the pick-up and drop-off lane. Mr. Santez' car was parked at a rather reckless angle halfway on the curb. The more she heard the man speak, the more the word "reckless" seemed to suit his personality. "Maybe "neckless" would suit him better, if he doesn't quit his jabbering soon!" Ann thought to herself with a grin. Henri mistook her grin as admiration of his shiny new machine. "You like her too, eh?" he asked with a rather stupid grin. "Ann had no problem smiling in return, though she was afraid she would snicker at any moment. It was a lovely car. She new what make it was, but her foggy, sleep-deprived mind could not recall it. European, she knew that. "Well, hop in!" Henri held her car door open. Ann eased her tired self into the car, and sighed at the few moments of silence before Henri opened the door on the driver's side and got in. He took off at once, without even securing his seatbelt.
Ann was about to turn to Henri to ask if she might first be let off at her hotel, when her eye caught the car's logo on the dashboard in front of her: "Alfa Romeo". Ann's brain suddenly jumped to attention. What had the paper said? "beware a romeo"?! Of course!! "Beware A. Romeo"!! Ann's heart skipped several beats, but she casually turned to Henri and asked him how far her hotel was from the "Needle".