Page 11 of Pomegranates and Olive

"— after all I'm just a man trying to start up a conversation with a beautiful woman while waiting for his flight."

I unconsciously smooth down my tank top which only draws his eyes back to my boobs which results in him flashing another of his panty-dropping grins at me.

No way I'll be dropping my Calvin Klein's for the likes of you, buddy.

I push this unwanted thought from my mind and try to concentrate on the subject at hand... his pervy arrogance. "But you just said that I didn't look like the kind of woman who would enjoy that kind of thing."

"Maybe I was wrong."

"So all of this was just an elaborate ruse to start up a conversation with me?" I scrunch my nose up at him. "And perv at my boobs?"

"NowthatI won't deny." A hint of a blush finally appears on his cheeks which makes me think that he might just be human after all. "And yet here you are,talkingto me."

"You've really got some mad flirting skills, haven't you?"

"I hear your sarcasm, thank you very much."

Not even bothering to hide the exasperation lacing my tone I grumble at him. "I don't have time for this. Do you mind? I'm trying to work."

That is a lie, of course, but he takes the hint and sits down opposite me, pulling out his mobile while I pull out my notebook and stare at a blank page and try to ignore the butterflies that were flapping around in my belly. But how can I pretend to stare at a blank page when what I am actually doing is trying not to get caught watching Queue-Jumper yell into his mobile in whatever language he is speaking.

I think back to Rosie's pep talk about being the Olive I want to be.

I could kiss Queue-Jumper. Just stand up, straddle him and plant one on him.

Could I kiss Queue-Jumper? Could I actually do that?

Would I dare?

How much alcohol would I need to build up the courage to do that?

No. I'm just a librarian. Alcohol or no alcohol, librarians just don't do things like that.

Wait. I’m notjusta librarian, I can’t let my occupation define who I am. He doesn’t know anything about me. And Rosie was right; I’m striving to be the Olive that I want to be!

I brave a look at him over the top of my notebook, shake my head and look down at my blank page. Nope. Still wouldn't kiss Queue-Jumper.

Only a few minutes pass when I notice myself watching him again. There’s something so sexy about the way his lips move as he speaks into his phone. He smiles into the receiver, which makes my downtown lady bits tingle which leads me to the very specific question… would I have sex with him?

"Ahhhh!" I gasp out loud and slap my hands over my mouth as Queue-Jumper looks over and shakes his head at me. I just got totally caught staring at him! My cheeks flush at the dirty thoughts I was thinking about a man I had just met.

No. The answer is no; I wouldn't have sex with him!

But maybe I'd let him have sex with me...

All my sexy thoughts stopped instantly when the airport's PA system screeches to life with an ear-piecing crackle. "This is an announcement for passengers of flight TK2504 to Bodrum. Passengers, please be advised, your gate number has been changed to gate G1. Flight TK2504 is now open for boarding at gate G1."

TK2504? Gate change?

Queue-Jumper and I are currently sitting at gate D11.

Standing up, I throw my notebook in my handbag and grab my carry-on. I nudge Queue-Jumper’s knee, hitting it a bit too hard. "Are you going to Bodrum?"

He looks up from his call, annoyed. "Yes."

"The gate number has been changed. Run!"

We both start running through the terminal. Just our luck, we had been sitting at what seems like the furthest gate from G1 in this giant airport. We’ve got to sprint if we were going to have any chance of making our flight. Queue-Jumper grabs my carry-on and my hand. A spark bolts through my hand and up my arm, and I trip slightly before righting myself.

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