Amsterdam 6

"So what is it that you do in Denver?" He asked her around a bite of the chicken parmesan he had taken just a moment before. Usually, she would have thought it was gross for a man to talk with his mouth full, but he had taken an unusually dainty bite, and it seemed kind of cute. She paused with the fork halfway to her mouth and tipped her head to him.

"I'm a building inspector." She took the bite and found that while it wasn't bad, it was lukewarm. She supposed that was what happened when you sat in coach and not first class.

"I don't think I know any lady inspectors," he said. Their eyes met and she gave him a shy little smile.

"There aren't a whole lot of us, but I really like setting my own hours, and the money's not bad." Even with the dip in housing prices, and the slow market, she had been lucky enough to have steady work. She was good at what she did and sometimes she thought people liked the novelty of a woman inspector. Not that she was complaining. If it was novelty that was driving the work, she was all about it.

They each took a few bites, and then she asked him what he did.

"I'm in banking," he said simply. He didn't volunteer anything more than that and she didn't pry. She was pretty certain whatever he had to say about banking, she really wouldn't care to hear anyway.

"So why are you going to Amsterdam?" She asked when they were a few bites further into their meals. She was opening the cookie and he was finishing the cheese and cracker.

"I'm moving. My work is moving me to Amsterdam."

"Are you excited? I know I would be!" A smile stretched the corners of her mouth. "I love moving! But more than moving, I love going to new places, that's how I ended up going on this trip in the first place."

"I'm a little excited, but mostly scared and hassled." He couldn't help the little smirk that lifted the corner of his mouth.

"You are so lucky! I have always wanted to live abroad!"

"Why haven't you?" He asked. He was curious about this little woman who was funny and smart. He felt lucky he wasn't a few seats up, where he was supposed to have been. And this new pretty seat mate was more interesting than the man he had sat next to on the way to the Detroit. That man had snored with his head back from the time the plane had taken off until landing. It was a good thing he had brought earplugs with him. That didn't spare him from the hot breath on his cheek however. At least it hadn't been stinky. Just a faint smell of eggs and coffee.

"Life gets in the way sometimes," she said with just a hint of sadness in her voice.

"A guy?" He wondered at his boldness. He wasn't generally so bold. He wasn't a shrinking violet either, it was just that he didn't usually feel the need to talk with most other people. He certainly hadn't wanted to talk to the man who'd traveled next to him on the way to his friend's wedding in Mexico, but then, that man hadn't been as cute as the cinnamon colored woman next to him. Her almond shaped brown eyes glowed friendly and warm from her face, her pert nose was rounded and made him want to kiss her on the tip of it. Below that, were a set of lips that were plump and a little glossy from the dab of lip gloss she had put on just before they had gotten their food.

"Aren't the cause of most of life's problems usually somehow related to the opposite sex?"

"Ah yes." He gave a wise nod. "An ex-girlfriend is partly to blame for the move."

"She must have been something for you to move out of the country," She joked. "I once moved across town because of a man, but a whole new country... Was she psycho?"

"Nah," he said shyly. "it wasn't like that at all. We broke up and the opportunity came up, and it seemed silly to stay in Minneapolis when I was single could do something that was a little outrageous."

"Well, good for you," she had an air of someone who really cared. Most of his friends and family had told him he was crazy for picking up and moving away. "I wish I could just pick up and go sometimes."

"What keeps you from just going?" he tugged at the rubbery roll he held in his hand with his teeth, and chewed laboriously.

"I just feel kind of tied down there, you know? So many things I feel like I should be doing for my family and friends." She gave him a small lift of her lips and then she added quietly. "Someday, perhaps."

Finishing their meals, he watched the little television in front of him, and she read one of the thin books he'd seen her pull from the bag at her feet.

When the flight attendant took away their trays, they both settled in, talking to one another about silly things, and then taking a break again to read or watch a movie. It was at around five hours in that Simon started to get restless. Looking up from her movie and pulling an earphone from her ear canal, she tilted her head toward him and asked of he was alright.

"I was trying to read this Hemingway book and I just can't get into it," he sighed and tucked the tome into the seat pocket in front of him.

"Ah, that's where you went wrong. I never read anything serious when I'm on vacation. It's a waste of brain power that I want to spend on sightseeing."

"So what do you read?" He said with a hint of teasing.

"Romance novels," she said with pretend haughtiness. He chuckled. "Laugh, if you must, but they are a quick mindless read. And they are entertaining as hell."

"Please," Simon scoffed. "I'll just read the inflight magazine.

"Trust me when I say, you would be much better off reading this. It's a true bodice ripper." She quirked an eyebrow at him and he laughed and playfully lunged at the small paperback in her hand. She held it just out of reach, trying not to irritate the older gentleman next to her.

"How about this, I'll just give it a little read and let you know if I want to keep it. I doubt I will though.". She noticed the way he ran his long fingers through his hair, and the way his squinty grey eyes crinkled with the grin that showed his teeth. Sexy didn't begin to describe him. If she had to guess, he had been in a fraternity in college. He had that air about him, he was well dressed, but casually so, in his light yellow polo and jeans. She had seen that he was wearing loafers when she had bent to take her book out the bag at her feet, and they weren't too scuffed, but they did look nice. Her friend, Peyton was always telling her to look at a man's shoes to get the best read on a guy. Of course, Peyton was a little crazy, so the things she said had to be taken with a grain of salt.

"I guarantee you can't put it down," she sing-songed as she handed it over.

"Yeah, I think I'll be alright."

"We'll see." She said with a hint of smugness.