Page 10 of From Helsinki with Love
“When’s your birthday?”
“In March.”
“Cool, so you’re just a bit over a year younger than me.”
I nod. ”For a moment, I feared you were one of those guys who are like twenty-three and look older.”
“Would that be a problem?”
“Maybe.”
”Good thing that I’m not,” Jasper smirks and points to gate 38. “We’re here.”
“So we are.”
The overhead speakers crackle again shortly after we sit in the only available seats nearby.“Finnair flight AY16 to Helsinki is now ready for boarding at gate 38. Business and priority customers in group number one are welcome to board at this time. Please show your boarding pass and passport at the gate. We wish you a pleasant flight.”
My new acquaintance gets up, holding his passport and ticket. “I’m traveling on business, so that’s me.”
“Funny, that’s me, too.”
Jasper offers me his hand and helps me up from my seat. We go and wait in line with other passengers.
“So, what kind of work does one do in human rights?”
“I’m a human rights lawyer helping undocumented immigrants.”
His entire expression changes to something I can’t describe. “Oh shit.”
“What?”
“You’ve got beautyandbrains. I might have to ask you to marry me before it’s too late,” he jokes and gently nudges me with his elbow.
I snort at his comment, even though my heart races at the thought of him thinking I’m beautiful and intelligent. “Slow down, Viking, we only just met.”
“What did you just call me?”
“Viking,” I repeat in a quiet voice.
“That’s my nickname in the League. You sure you don’t follow sports?” He looks my way hesitantly.
He must be thinking I was lying earlier.Great. “I am sure. But you do look like a stereotypical Nordic man in my eyes—the blonde guy with blue eyes. Hence the nickname.”
“I see.”
“Is that how you got your nickname?”
“No.”
Now I’m curious to find out more. “I can sense a story there.”
“It’s pretty dumb, so let’s talk more about your work. Why human rights?”
Nice try, Jasper, but that won’t work for me. After all, I’ve been trained to spot the tell signs of people lying and avoiding specific topics, even though I couldn’t catch my cheating ex.
“You can’t trick me like that. Now, tell me,” I almost beg him.
He blows out a breath and moves forward before answering. “So, back in college, I got an idea to tell everyone I was a descendant of a famous Viking called Ivan the Boneless after too many shots at a frat party.”
