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I shake my head and show her the picture. “That’s him. That’s my Roman.”

“Wow. He’s hot.”

I scowl at her, and she immediately backtracks. “Sorry, I just⁠—”

I interrupt her, pointing at the picture. “You haven’t seen him in here?”

She shakes her head. “Pretty sure I’d remember him.”

I don’t like the way she’s drooling over my boyfriend.

Well, technically he’s not.

But he will be soon.

Now is not the time to unleash my temper on her. Not until I’m sure she hasn’t seen him.

“He might be a hitman.”

The clerk freezes, her eyes wide.

Crap. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

Most people are scared of hitmen. In most cases, I would be, too.

But I’m not scared of Roman.

“Oh,” I wave my hand and laugh. “Not a real one. He’s an actor.”

The clerk visibly relaxes.

“I think.”

She grabs her cart full of produce and moves away without another word.

Good customer service is hard to find.

I check my phone for missed calls or texts from Gracie, who promised to keep an eye out for him.

Nothing.

So he hasn’t gone into the coffee shop yet, either.

Maybe he’ll do that after the gym.

I continue through the store, looking for the next employee to question.

Ah, yes. The butcher.

Unfortunately, he’s no help, either. And he keeps talking about his meat in a way that seems way too pervy.

“You sure I can't interest you in some sausage?”

I narrow my eyes. “Why did you say it like that?”

He just leers at me.

Yuck.