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star.
    â€œIs that cute FedEx man back?” I asked absently. “I thought he quit to become an underwear model.”
    â€œBetter.”
    â€œWhat’s better than an underwear model who comes bearing cleaning supplies?” I have scoped out vendors who sell hard-to-get products and I must admit that when the FedEx truck pulls up my heart beats a little faster.
    â€œA paying customer who looks even better than the FedEx man!”
    â€œYou’d better lay off the lattes for a while.” Obviously a case of too many espressos from the machine in the back room.
    â€œNo. Truth! Come see for yourself. And he’s got a cute friend, too.”
    Sighing, I stood up and peeked into my minuscule waiting room where a man paced back and forth while another, with rosy cheeks, sat flipping through a magazine. Dark hair with a hint of curl, clean shaven, strong jaw,beautifully shaped nose, eyelashes a woman would trade her jewelry for, a finely cut jacket that caressed broad shoulders and an expression that could freeze hot coffee…. My heart sank.
    Theresa jammed her elbow into my side. “I told you so.”
    She produced a business card with the flair of a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. “His name is Jared Hamilton. He’s president of Hamilton and Hamilton Financial Planners. Ooooh—” Theresa’s mouth puckered with anticipation “—maybe he’s rich!”
    â€œDon’t count your paychecks until they’re hatched,” I warned. “I’ve met this guy. I can’t imagine why he’s here unless he’s deluded enough to think he can sell me something.”
    â€œA mutual fund pusher? I’ll buy some, whatever it is.” She prodded me toward the door. “Go find out what he wants.”
    I hesitated but, unexpectedly, Theresa gave me a helpful shove. I tripped inelegantly into the room, teetered for balance, thrust out my hand and blurted, “Welcome to Clutter Busters. May I help you, Mr. Hamilton? Hello, Ethan.”
    â€œYou remembered,” Hamilton growled.
    I smiled more sweetly than I felt. “How could I forget?”
    His eyes narrowed as he studied me. I studied him right back. He was even better looking up close, definitely Godiva caliber eye candy. Too bad his flavor is sour ball.
    â€œSamantha Smith, correct?”
    â€œIn the flesh.” That came out badly. “In person, I mean.” I fumbled for something more to say. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”
    â€œNo, I imagine you didn’t. I didn’t expect to see me here today, either.” He glared at Ethan, who, looking innocent as a cherub, returned his attention to the magazine.
    So it was like that, was it?
    I waited for him to explain, but he didn’t. I felt Theresa’seyes boring into my back, so I turned and waved her off. This was awkward enough without an audience.
    He shifted from handsomely clad foot to handsomely clad foot as his eyes darted around the office, looking, no doubt, for something out of place.
    â€œYou claim you can organize anyone’s life, correct?”
    â€œI can help anyone organize their home or office if they are motivated, yes. And I can coach someone through the roadblocks that keep them from action.”
    â€œHas there ever been a situation you found impossible to handle?” He frowned as he asked the question and a hint of a scowl began to form. Ethan moved the magazine closer to his face. He couldn’t possibly be reading since his eyes would be crossed at that distance.
    â€œNot if the client is willing to work with me on setting goals and is motivated to change his or her habits.”
    â€œYou mean the owner of the mess?”
    â€œWell, yes.” I peered into his inscrutable eyes. “Are you inquiring for yourself?”
    Oddly, he flinched. Then he stuck his hands in his trouser pockets as if he didn’t know what else to do with them.