“Oh, um…twenty-six. What about you?” “I am twenty-three.” She’s still standing right in front of me, looking right at me. It’s making ...e feel uncomfortable. I wander, as casually as I can, to the window railing, and lean on it. Looks like it’s up to me to speak again: “Where are you from, Petra?” “I am from Bulgaria,” she replies. Of course she is. They’re all drop-dead stunning out there. “And you…are English, yes?” “Afraid so,” I smile. “You East Europeans can’t have a monopoly on the. Would you be able to meet her?” Fighting to keep control of his hands, Bryan kept the phone in his hand and spoke again. “Sure… The uhh… Saturday?” “Yeah. She’ll be flying into JFK airport where she will be met by a tour guide. She’ll be staying at the Hilton. Can you pick her up for 12 o‘clock?” Anne asked. “Sure. The Hilton at 12 on Saturday.” Bryan repeated, confirming the details. “Great. Thanks a lot!” With that Anne hung up the phone. Bryan jumped on the spot and punched the air. A date. More

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