Caroline reached into her handbag and proceeded to check her make-up in the compact mirror.When she looked up,she let out a gasp as a familiar figure appeared in the pub’s doorway and was headed toward their table.The man was tall,slim,and impeccably dressed in a dark suit with a bright orange scarf wound about his neck.A tan trench coat swung casually from one arm,and he carried a leather briefcase in the other.Over the years Caroline had known him,he had grown into his great good looks.He was a dead ringer for Cary Grant.Billy Devlin.Where the hell did you come from?
Billy came up to Caroline and threw his arms around her,practically lifting her out of her chair.“My God,Caroline,it’s been ages,”he said.“What the hell are you doing here?”