Lily folds back the cover of her notebook. “We met the first week you flew home for your cousin’s funeral.” She glances up as if to gauge my reaction. “Sorry for your loss, by the way.”
The flash of compassion in her eyes twists something in my chest. I react with a curt nod. “Thank you.”
She returns my nod and then refocuses on her notes. “What did you do that first week?”
I tilt my head back in thought to six weeks ago. “Let’s see. I attended a polo match, had drinks at the pub with some friends, and…” I snap my fingers, “I helped my sister with her annual fundraiser event.”
Lily taps her pen against her lips, drawing my attention there yet again. “Hmm, polo might work. Drinks with friends…perhaps I tagged along with one of them as a last-minute invite. That could work. What was the fundraiser for?”
“Underprivileged children. She started it not long after she went into private practice.”
Something flashes behind Lily’s eyes, then disappears with a smile that’s decidedly forced. “Drinks with friends, it is. We wound up talking all evening and spending almost every day together after that.”
She falls silent as she writes in her notebook. Does she not enjoy children or fundraisers? That seems highly unlikely.
I find myself wanting to learn more about her. Where did she come from, and how did she wind up being a close protection officer? What was her family like? Did she have any siblings?
“What about you?”
Her gaze jumps to mine. “What about me?”
“I should know details about you as well, correct?” I add a whimsical tone to my voice. “Seems odd that we talked for hours, yet I know nothing about you.”
She checks her watch. “We met barely an hour ago.”
“At the pub, the night we met. I’m practicing my part.” I wink at her, just for effect.
A flight attendant stops next to my chair. “Would you like something to drink or something off our menu?”
I grin up at her. “Just some water, please.”
“Are you sure I can’t get you something more…enjoyable?” One side of her mouth lifts in a sly smile.
She’s flirting with me. Normally, I’d engage and enjoy this rare occasion. In the States, one of the other guys on the team, such as Luke or Wade, would get the attention while I hung about like their wingman.
I swing my gaze to Lily. “I’m sure my wife would enjoy something.”
The attendant’s momentary flash of shock settles into a contrite expression. “So sorry. Of course! What can I get you?”
Lily’s lips twitch up just so on the sides. “Somewater, thank you.”
The attendant nods, then turns around to walk back to the galley.
“Well done…husband.” Lily’s voice drops to a husky whisper.
If I weren’t in on the ruse, I’d believe it myself. Suddenly uncomfortable, I shift in my seat. “Might as well start practicing now.”
The flight attendant returns and hands us each a cup of water. I guzzle mine down, then hold my cup out to her. “I think I need a refill.”
“Did you always want to be a hockey player?” Lily waits for my answer, pen poised over what I guesstimate to be her fourth page of notes.
In the last two hours, we’ve covered everything from food and entertainment preferences to quirky details like my complete intolerance for anything sweet that’s been salted—why eat it then? The entire purpose of eating a chocolate or a caramel is to enjoy its creamy sweetness. Why ruin it?
Yet, I still think I’m lacking enough details about Lily.
“I started playing as a child in a junior league and never looked back.”
She tilts her head. “How did your parents feel about you wanting to make a profession of it?”
