Lady Zhao was properly introduced to Ander for the first time in the staff common room. It was right after the Lala skirmish, the Marble Staircase Incident, and Lady Zhao had sought a place where, as far as she knew, no one else in her class went, hoping to cool off in anonymity â non-staff weren't allowed in; Lady Zhao's luncheons with her professor-friend had elevated her, after a couple of occasions, to first-name recognition with one of the cashiers, and a de facto honorary user of the facility. Instead of anonymity, however, she came across Ander, someone whom she recognized as being in her lectures, whom she was aware was called something like Andy.
Lady Zhao started by abusing him for invading her privacy â "Aren't you in my class? You know this is for staff only and those with permission? Do you have permission?" The likes of him were not supposed to be there, she reassured Ander.
To which Ander, sounding half asleep, explained in a tedious account how in fact some time ago he had kicked up a fuss about the coffee in the student common room with the administrators, and had upon request supplied medical evidence for a rare allergy that no one in the office had heard of, an explanation they weren't even sure bore any relation to the differential ingredients between the beverages on offer in the staff and student facilities that would actually pose a health risk for Ander. Ultimately, he came away with a guest pass, the administrators having concluded the hassle and risk (what if he collapsed and died after drinking non-steam-treated-non-organic blends?) just wasn't worth putting up with for so minor a concession.
His tale had bored Lady Zhao into a sort of tranquility. They sat down to chat, Lady Zhao denouncing Lala for her crimes.
"Hold up. Which one is Lala? You mean the Spanish girl?"
"Andy, you know her â I've seen her talking to you."
"Talking at me... I don't know these days. My name's Ander, by the way. I don't know really..." He sighed, said he hadn't gotten over his jet lag yet (after four weeks), that the sun was up for far longer than is necessary or natural or healthy, that England was too cold even in summer, that he simply didn't get Celsius and, honestly, couldn't be bothered to process it.
Lady Zhao asked what he was planning for the rest of the afternoon, whether he would be interested in skipping Risk Management and chaperoning her around a department store. He told her he couldn't imagine anything less compelling. They exchanged contact details.