He looked at her and tipped his head. “I’m James, by the way. James Carter.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Megan.”

He took another sip of his beer. “The blonde girl. That’s Roxy, my niece. She was over here from Los Angeles doing work experience with me. She headed back to the Sunshine State yesterday.”

“Oh, I see.” His niece. Well, that certainly put a different slant on things. “And what is it you do, you know, that she was getting experience with?”

“I’m a director, she wants to go into journalism and thought it would be good experience.” He pushed his hand through his hair which caused it to stick up slightly. “Though really I think she just enjoyed clubbing in London with new friends, that’s what they do these days, the youngsters.”

“How old is she?”

“Twenty.”

“And very pretty.”

“I suppose she is.” He paused and studied Megan. “And what do you do? I’m guessing you work nearby, if this is your local haunt.”

“Yes, just over the way. I design shoes.”

He nodded slowly and bit on his bottom lip.

“What?” She bristled a little. Okay she was no big shot director, but she was doing okay, thank you very much. More than okay and soon she’d be flying high, she’d make sure she was.

“That explains why you always have amazing footwear,” he said.

“You noticed?” He didn’t strike her as the type to notice shoes. Damn it, she hoped he wasn’t gay. Brendon always knew exactly what everyone had on their feet, at all times—it was, like, inbuilt in him to spot footwear. Bugger! And just when she’d found out Hot Guy wasn’t with the pretty young blonde after all. He probably had a pretty young blond boyfriend stashed away.

“Well, I’m not usually a connoisseur of shoes, but one day last month, I did notice that you had glittery soles.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Very unusual and…cute.”

“Thank you. It’s a trademark of mine. I love to make women feel special and sparkly when they put on my shoes. I want them to feel like they can achieve anything, reach for the stars.”

“That sounds very admirable.”

“It’s important to feel good.” She fiddled with her silver necklace, rolling the tiny heart-shaped pendant between her fingers.

“I couldn’t agree more.” His gaze dropped to her throat and lingered there.

His eyelids were heavy. There was a definite glimmer of interest in the depth of his pupils and he swept his tongue over his bottom lip. So he wasn’t gay after all.

What is he thinking? What does he want?