“Oh, yeah? Are you taking your vacation in the Houston area? Or flying on to somewhere else?”
He looked away from her to stare out the window and sighed. “I don’t quite know. I would like to disappear and go off the grid, but I may not have the option. So I’m playing it by ear.” He cleared his throat and turned back to her, the uncertainty in his eyes vanishing. “You are from Houston?”
The doubt in his voice before the change of subject surprised her. She’d expected a Hollywood actor to be full of confidence. “Yes. I grew up in West Texas, but have lived in Houston for many years now. I’m Alex,” she said as she extended her hand to him.
He took her hand in his and raised an eyebrow. “Alex? Unusual for a woman.”
The unexpected warmth of his hand sent an electric zing up her arm, distracting her.What the heck was that?she wondered.
She rubbed her fingers together and focused on his unspoken question. “Short for Alexis, but Alex fits me better. Also, particularly useful to have a man’s name when working in a male-dominated field within a male-dominated industry.” She smirked at the last bit, then asked, “And you are…?”
“Fin. And I understand how that would work to your advantage. What do you do for a living?”
So that’s how we’re playing this,Alex thought.Focus on me and we don’t have to acknowledge who you are.With the rules of engagement set, Alex told him about her job as a project manager, throwing in a few stories about working in the sometimes “redneck” environment of oilfield manufacturing. She entertained him with stories of traveling as the only female in the group. He had a rich laugh, and she enjoyed bringing a grin to his face.
“I like your accent,” he told her.
She gave him an affronted look, then played up her Texas drawl, “Ahhave no idea to what y’all arereferrin’.Ahdonawthave an accent.” She burst into giggles, and he laughed with her. “Oh, man. You know, I tell people not everyone from Texas is a cowboy or an oil baron, but I was raised on a cattle ranch, rode horses, and rounded up cows. And now I work in the oilfield. I’m a walking cliché!” She rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air.
He chuckled at her joke and asked, “You ride horses?”
“I did. It’s been a while. How about you?”
“Aye. I love horses. I keep a few back home and ride as much as possible. Unfortunately, it’s not as often as I would like,” he added, his mouth turned down.
“Where is ‘back home?’ In Scotland?” she prompted. Again, he went still and narrowed his eyes at her, so she added, “Your brogue isn’t as pronounced as some of my colleagues, but it still comes through.”
Fin’s shoulders relaxed. “Aye, in Scotland. I grew up near Aberdeen and still have a home there.”
They traded stories from their childhoods. She learned he had an older brother and a younger sister with whom he’d shared many adventures exploring the countryside. He learned she had grown up an only child surrounded by an extended family made up of ranch hands, veterinarians, and other ranch-related workers. They laughed at each other’s youthful adventures until the flight attendant interrupted them for the meal.
As they ate, Fin pointed to her laptop and asked if he had interrupted her work. His consideration touched Alex. “No, it’s fine. You may not have noticed, but I’m an extrovert and like to talk to people. Maybe a tad too much,” she added with a grin. “But not everyone wants to engage that way, so I keep it handy in case the passenger next to me would rather not converse.”
“I’m curious. How do you determine if people want to talk? Or if they would prefer to sit quietly?”
She shrugged. “Tool of my trade. I work with everyone from the shop floor to the C-level executives. Andthatcomes with a slew of varied environments, expertise, social norms, and personalities. It’s critical to know how to read the room—to understand the atmosphere and keep every one of those diverse personalities focused on the endgame. Body language, terminology used, behavior patterns… a person communicates much of their inner thoughts without ever opening their mouth. It’s my job to filter through the noise and decipher what’s going on beyond what’s being said.”
He stared at her. She could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to remember what he had said and how he had behaved… wondering if she knew his secrets. She’d seen that startled look before when she’d described what she did. Fin squirmed in his seat and Alex sensed his discomfort growing.
“For instance, I pegged you as a ‘sitting in silence type’ so you surprised me by making small talk.” She grinned at him and gave him a friendly wink, hoping to break the tension caused by her previous remark.
He burst out laughing. “Well, no one has ever accused me of being—what is it you Americans say?—a ‘Chatty Cathy,’ but you’re easy to talk to.” He paused long enough for Alex to wonder if he would say anything further, then added, “I’m an introvert by nature and have become protective of my privacy in recent years.”
She nodded. “The Internet has made it easy to feel exposed. We should all pay more attention to our privacy. It’s an excellent practice.”
He ate a few bites as he pondered this.
The conversation turned to places each had visited and locations still on their bucket lists. The time passed pleasantly, and Alex realized they only had a few hours left on the flight. Strange how disappointing that was.
Fin stretchedin his seat and watched Alex stand to retrieve her backpack from the overhead bin. She was tall for a woman and moved with a grace born of both athleticism and confidence. Her wavy blond hair swayed around her shoulders as she moved. He noticed several men and one woman likewise observing her physique and smiled in appreciation, wondering if she was aware of the effect she had on others. He doubted it.
As the captain announced the weather conditions for Houston, he closed his eyes and thought about the last nine hours. He felt so relaxed. Alex was delightful company, her sense of humor both witty and self-effacing. She didn’t seem to know who he was, which meant he could let down his guard and be himself. He didn’t have to mind what he said or watch for an unexpected camera pointing at him. He wanted that feeling to continue, an escape from reality for a little while longer.
From everything they discussed, he gathered Alex was single. She was a career woman who worked hard and lived fully. He wondered if she would be up to spending some time with him during his self-imposed retreat.
Paper rustled beside him, and he opened his eyes to see her looking at him while she opened a pack of pretzels. Before he could say anything, she asked, “Tired?”
“No, I was thinking how lovely this plane ride has been.”
