©³©¥©×©¥©·<br >©§ ©§ ©§<br >©»©¥©ß©¥©¿<br > The big jet was only twenty minutes out of John F. Kennedy<br >Airport in New York when the pretty blond flight attendant<br > bevera e cart beside seat number 12B.<br >~o ped the g - ~ 9"<br > ~ Would you care to purchase a drink， sir.<br > ~"You bet， replied Peter Blanchard， who was seated in<br >nd~aber 12B on the aisle. "Make it a double Cutty Sark and<br >soda， please." He lowered the fold-down table on the back of<br >the seat in front of him and the attendant placed two small<br >bottles and a split of soda on it. He had the exact change<br >ready before she asked， and she smiled appreciatively. Peter<br >was an old hand at drinking in the air， and he always tried to<br >establish a rapport with the flight attendant.<br > When she leaned across him to speak to his seatmate in<br >number 12A by the window， Peter noticed that she wore<br >Balenciaga s Quadrille， the same fragrance worn by Jeannie<br > Wharton. He was seriously thinking of asking Jeannie to<br > marry him after he got the French project out of the way.<br > "And you， sir?" she asked the man next to Peter.<br > "Oh， maybe a beer. Any Heineken?"<br > "Yes， sir，" she answered cheerfully. "We have all the<br > imported beers on our trans-Atlantic flights."<br > ~Heineken will be fine."<br > She uncapped the bottle and again leaned across Peter to<br > place it on the other man s table.<br > 1<br >l<br ><br >