Despite his expensive suit and tidy buzz cut, he’s got a macho swashbuckling pirate thing going on. He seems like the kind of man who could drink ten other men under the table and still have enough strength for a sword fight and a lusty romp in bed with a saucy wench. All he’s missing is a little silver ring in one ear and a tricorn hat with a jaunty feather.
I compose myself and offer a more reasonable greeting. “Hi there.”
“Hullo, miss.”
“So you’re the personal shopper?”
He inclines his head. That looks secretive too. There’s something so interesting about this guy, but at the same time, he’s more than a little scary.
“Do you have a name?”
“Axel, miss.”
“That’s a pretty badass name.”
“Thank you, miss.”
“I’m Shay.”
“I know who you are, miss.”
“Of course you do. And you don’t ha
