It started with a single tear. By the time gravity ran its course, Jameson was alone, overtaken by guilt and positively bewildered. “Is that what you’re after, Jameson? Do you just want to get into my pants? Maybe I’m better off with the arranged marriage. Nikhil may not be young or attractive, but at least I know his intentions.”

Prandi disappeared inside the airport before Jameson could hear the end of her tearful rant, “At least… I think… I do.”

When he tried to follow her inside, he found out that in this airport he was now persona non grata. The nicer of the two brutes in security was at least willing to inform him that he could reach India, Pakistan, Las Vegas or Nepal – just not on any of the flights originating from this airport.

Shellshocked, Jameson went to the only place he knew he was welcome.

“Speak of the devil,” Old Bess said. “Karl and I were just talking about you and that hot number you strolled out of here with last night. Something tells me we need to talk.”