Page 14 of Sinner’s Game

“I’m sorry, but have we met?”

“Forgive me. Protocol is not my forte. I’m Mr. White. We spoke briefly a few months ago. I had heard about you. I knew that I would soon be in need of a good, ah, designer. And we were introduced.”

“Oh. Right. I apologize for not remembering.” I still don’t, but I offer him a bright smile. “As you can imagine, I’ve met a lot of people over the last year. It’s all such a blur. Was it at a trade show?”

He nods vaguely. “What? Oh, yes, of course, yes. And I understand it’s unusual to approach you this way. But I have a sensitive project that I don’t wish to discuss over the phone.”

I start to ask him what could be that sensitive about purses and totes, but he barrels on before I can get a word out.

“I explained that to your assistant a few days ago. She called me back yesterday and said that you’d be in the Laguna Cortez Arts District today for lunch, then suggested that we meet in person.”

“Cara did?”

“Cara?” He frowns. “I don’t recall her name.” He cocks his head, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. “I was under the impression that you were aware of the appointment. But if I’ve somehow offended you, I can—”

“No, no,” I say as he hurriedly steps backward, as if he’s just insulted the queen or something. “Really, it’s fine.” It’s not, of course, and I make a mental note to have a long talk with Cara about forewarning me about stuff like this.

I force a smile. “I’d be happy to sit down and talk with you.” After all, who cares how odd the guy is? This is a possible job, after all.

“Is now a good time?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not.” I could talk to him now, but I have Jake, who’s starting to get antsy, and a few other things already on my plate. Plus, I really like to have time to prepare. Another reason I’m irked at Cara.

Frowning, I rummage in my bag—a waxed canvas tote, very practical, and my very first BB Bag—then pull out a business card. “Just email me,” I say as I extend it, and he snatches it from my hand.

“Thank you,” he says. “I truly didn’t mean to upset your protocol. Perhaps it was a mistake approaching you, but I want to work with the best. Surely you understand that.”

“I’m flattered,” I say, even though I want to tell him that he’s laying it on a little thick.

“Do you want all the, ah, parameters in the email?”

“Um, sure. Just a brief summary. Enough to give me an idea what you’re thinking of, but nothing detailed. Shorthand is fine. It doesn’t have to be formal. I just want to be prepared when we talk.”

“Of course. Shorthand. I completely understand.”

“Great. After I review it, we can make an appointment to talk further.”

“That’s perfect,” he says as he glances at my card. Then he meets my eyes with a huge grin. “BB Bags. Clever.”

“Thanks.” Considering my name’s Brandy Bradshaw, and my business is literally making bags, I’m not sure it’s really that clever. But it works for me.

He holds out his hands, his thumbs up and his forefingers extended like he’s a little kid playing cowboy. “Ping! Ching! A BB gun. I get it. And bag. Like you’re gonna bag ‘em. Seriously. It’s very clever. But with your reputation, I would expect nothing less.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” The man is seriously odd, but he’s a possible client, so I smile politely. “So, you know, email me.”

Thankfully, he takes the hint. He puts my card in his wallet, says goodbye, and hurries off down the street.

From where he’s curled up on the sidewalk at my feet, Jake lifts his head, then releases a quick bark.

“You said it. Come on, boy. Let’s cross over and see if Ellie’s done.”

He rises, yawns, then shakes, happy vibes practically radiating off him. Possibly because we’re heading to the beach, but more likely because stuff is happening.

Must be nice to be a dog.

I’m about to step off the curb to jaywalk when Pacific Property’s front door opens across the street. I pause, expecting Ellie. Instead, it’s a man I’ve never seen before. He’s medium height with receding hair and a strong jawline. Not bad-looking, but not good-looking either. The kind of guy who fades into a crowd. I wouldn’t have even noticed him, except I was looking for Ellie.

And the only reason I’m still looking is that he’s staring right back at me, his eyes narrowed the way I stare down an ant who’s found his way into my kitchen.