The guy had slick dark hair and tanned skin. He smiled like he was already winning a game that no one else knew about. And when he asked Rusty for an opinion about the suit he was trying on, Rusty knew the guy was trouble.

�It�s good on you. A little long in the leg, maybe,� said Rusty, who was only working at the men�s clothing shop because the jewelry store next door had a faulty security system.

�I�ll take it.� The man pushed a wad of cash toward Rusty. Rusty tried not to stare at it, but instead took the money and pretended all his customers paid for their suits with piles of cash. �Do you guys do tailoring?�

�Sure. Do you want me to do your measurements, Mr�?� Rusty returned the change and pulled out a tape measure from behind the cashier counter.

�Ocean. Danny, if you like.� Palpable leer. It didn�t faze Rusty � he was used to those kinds of looks. �I�ll come back later for the measurements. I�ve got an engagement that I�m late for. But tell me. How long have you been working here?�

�About a week. Just earning some extra cash.� And diamonds.

And Danny said this next sentence with no change in inflection. He could�ve been talking about the weather. �And casing the joint next door, right?�

For once, Rusty had no idea what to say. He still held the tape measure in his hand, staring.

Danny took a ballpoint pen off the counter. �I�ve got to go, like I said. But I�ll be back. Give me a call if you get off work, all right?� Danny took Rusty�s hand in his, and wrote a phone number on the palm of Rusty�s hand.

Rusty�s palm itched, burned, where Danny had branded his number into Rusty�s skin. He felt like a teenage girl. Danny kept smiling at him, as if waiting for Rusty to get in on the joke.

With that, Danny was out the door. �Nice to meet you, Rusty.�