As the barman eyed her with interest, she gazed around and quickly spied a guy wearing sunglasses and a Panthers sweatshirt at a corner booth. Even through the shades, she could feel his insouciant gaze on her as she approached. There was the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips and Hannah took a deep breath, determined to remain calm and professional. She was still a bit rattled from the latest note from P-1 and now having to deal with an overgrown schoolboy who clearly wanted nothing to do with her was rubbing salt into a wound.

When she reached the booth she smiled, hand extended. ‘Ward? Good to meet you. I’m Hannah Ryan from Lotus PR.’

He barely glanced up as he limply took her outstretched hand, which instinctively got up her nose. Deep breaths, Hannah, she muttered inwardly. But then, looking closer at his clean-shaven face, or more to the point spotting the pair of crutches poking out from beneath the table, a sudden jolt of recognition shot up her spine.

‘Oh!’

And to her horror, Hannah realized that the Good Samaritan who’d offered to pay for her coffee (and whom she’d repaid by tripping), and her brand-new client, were one and the same.

He seemed to have come to the same realization at the same time, whipping off his sunglasses in surprise.

‘Cannoli Girl?’

Hannah nodded shamefaced. ‘I’m so sorry I … I had no idea.’ She dropped her hand and slumped down across from him in the booth, unexpectedly rattled now.

‘Is this some kind of joke?’ he said, his voice sounding more like a snarl.

‘More of a coincidence, I think,’ she replied, nowhere near loud enough to be heard over the blaring TVs projecting various sports games in session. She raised her voice. ‘Believe me, this is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.’

‘I doubt that.’ His arms were folded and his stance was even more closed than before.

She could hardly blame him.

‘Look again, I’m so sorry about that morning,’ she began, attempting to bury her discomfort and get things back on track. ‘You were being so nice and—’

‘I was in a hurry and you were taking too long,’ he said gruffly. ‘Nothing to do with nice.’

The kind, good-humoured guy she’d encountered that day was a world apart from the closed, indolent one sitting across from her now. And given the circumstances, Hannah knew she needed to summon every ounce of diplomacy in her power.

‘So how is … everything?’ she asked, indicating his crutches. ‘I know you’re recovering from a knee injury so I truly hope the fall didn’t set you back or anything …’