“You dropped your phone behind that suitcase.”
“Thanks. Why not join me? These seats aren’t reserved.
“Come and meet my family after your business tomorrow. I’ve never met anyone so knowledgeable about the Nineteenth Century, and you so young. Come for dinner; my wife is interested in history.” As interested as a husband so enchanted he never noticed his reflection sitting next to no-one.
“No thanks. I have an evening meeting.” I patted my throat. “Drink problems.” I liked him.
His home address was in his phone, but not password protection. If I changed my mind these invitations are irrevocable.