Franny's eyes were gleaming now. "Thefirsttime he looked like a fancy-pants millionaire. But thesecondtime, he looked like a regular working stiff." She leaned closer. "Suspicious, right?"
"Maybe a little."And that was a big maybe.After all, he could've come to the island in business attire and changed into vacation clothes later on. "So, what's he like?"
Franny pressed a hand to her heart. "Tall and broody with a body that just won't quit. But he's definitely up to something."
"Why do you say that?"
"Becausenobodyworks for free."
Idid.
But I was too embarrassed to say so, especially now that I knew how Franny would react.
I mean, I didn't want her thinkingIwas a hit man.
Still, it sent my thoughts spiraling. Aside from the prospect of untraceable tips, the only reason I'd taken the barista job was to keep an eye out for Delaney.
Was Maisie's mystery man on a similar mission?And if so, who was he watching for?
And then it hit me.It wasn'tcompletelyimpossible that he was here to watch me, courtesy of Evan Carver.
The thought wasn't a cheery one.
Still, I brushed it aside, telling myself the idea was laughable. Unless he was from Chicago, I probably had nothing to fear.
Not from him, anyway.
And Ryder Vaughn?
The jury was still out onthatone.
I returned my thoughts to Maisie. "But how do you know she's not paying him? Did she tell you?"
"No,Jasontold me." Franny smiled. "He's my nephew."
"Oh. But you think he's a hit man?"
"Jason?" She laughed. "Nah, he works at the diner."
That took a second to land. "I meant the guy working for Maisie."
"Oh.Him. Well…like I said, I'm notsurehe's a hit man. He could be something totally different." She brightened. "Like a millionaire banker."
"Oh. Well…that doesn't soundtooterrible."
"Or…" Franny continued in an ominous tone. "A gangster in hiding. He looks dangerous.Andsexy. He could be on the lam."
Sexy?
On the lam?
Good Lord.I didn't know whether to laugh or worry. "So actually, you're not surewhathe is."
"No, but you should find out.You'rethe roommate."
True.But I wasn't that kind of roommate. Or at least, I hadn't been until last night, when Maisie and I had talked for hours over those festive little bottles.
"And," Franny continued, "if you ditched this place and worked for Maisie instead, you could keep a lookout, you know?"
