So when she heard “This is Glen Hughes,” she was taken aback, and stumbled before saying, “This is Ava Lee.”“I didn’t expect to hear from you quite so soon,” he said.There wasn’t a hint of tension in his voice. If anything, he seemed disinterested, bored. Maybe that’s the impression he’s trying to give me, Ava thought. His accent was more refined than Edwin’s, the pace of his words slower, languid.Ava was sitting at the bar, a glass of wine and a small plate of smoked salmon finger sandwiches in front of her. “I didn’t see any point in wasting time,” she said.“Indeed not.”“I’m at Heathrow. I’m scheduled to get into New York tonight around nine o’clock. Is it possible we could meet tonight?”“There’s absolutely no chance of that. I have a function at the Whitney.”“I don’t mind working late.”“Ms. Lee, I’m quite sure you have my address.”“I do.”“Well, in that case, I’ll see you here tomorrow morning any time after eleven,”
