Chapter 26

At any rate, someone was supposed to meet me and drive me to the house in Johannesburg where I would be staying.

But I kept glancing at the pretty boy. He was flashing a hand-lettered sign at every older man who came out of the concourse, and it was obvious he was becoming impatient.

I strolled toward him, thinking perhaps I would strike up a conversation, a simple conversation to pass the time while awaiting my ride. I caught his gaze and gave him a slow smile, but then blinked, making it appear as if I were having second thoughts about approaching him. I let go of the handle of the cart that held my suitcases, took the pack of cigarettes from my inner pocket, and made a production of shaking one loose and placing it between my lips.