I'll be the lanky ginger, by the way. Can't miss me if you tried.
Abby's imagining of what a lanky ginger should look like - pale and thin, more elbow, knees and ribcage than limbs and torso - did not align in the slightest with the handsome gentlemen curiously studying her charges. Lanky must have been the inaccurate denominator, for his curly locks did boast a hint of red even beneath the dimmed fluorescent bulbs of the Reptile House. If nothing else, the laminated VIP badge clipped to his lapels gave him away as the man with the tiger.
'Mr. McLellan?'
Giant ginger, then! At the sound of his name Robb turned and stood up straight, suddenly dwarfing Abby by nearly an entire foot. At five-one, Abby was shorter than average but even if she’d been nearer to middling he would have stood well over her head. Tall, but not lanky. Nothing at all like her brother Julian.
Abby smiled, a tight twitch of the lip. Professional politeness was all she could manage while her brain made the whiplash turn from expectation to reality; no gangly gawkiness here. Just slim and lean without pointy elbows or knockabout knees.
'Hello, I'm Abby Maitland,’ she offered him her petite little hand, smile widening. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you.’