I snapped my head up. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s where I know you.”
“I doubt it. I worked in L.A. and mostly I worked alone.”
“Damn.”
He grinned. “Double damn.”
“So, you write books under Jon?”
“No, I use a pen name.”
I raised my eyebrows. Maybe I had read his books after all. “What’s your pen name?”
He looked at me for a long moment. “No,” he finally said.
“No, what?”
“No, I won’t tell you.”
My heart sank even as my frustration rose. “I could make you tell me.”
“Because you’re a mad mom in a minivan?”
“Because I have my ways,” I said. “Why won’t you tell me your pen name?”
“Because this is more fun.”
“To walk off into the sunset and we’ll always wonder?”
“Something like that. Except I’m going to get into my SUV and drive over to my sister’s house for dinner.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Yes, I do.”
He laughed some more and began gathering his bags, and as he did so, I noticed the time on his watch was two hours fast.
“Your watch is off,” I said.
He frowned and looked down. “Off?”
“It’s two hours fast.”
He looked again. “No it’s the right time.” He looked at me as I’d lost my marbles. Maybe I had. I looked at the time on my iPhone. Yup, his was two hours off. I showed him the time difference.
He leaned over and looked. “Weirdness.”
Then, when he had everything packed, he turned to me and said, “Well, it was certainly fun meeting you, whoever you are.”
“Don’t you want my name?”
“No.”
“Rot in hell,” I said, and crossed my arms.
He laughed loudly, throwing back his head. When he was done, he slung his cool satchel over his shoulder. “Till we meet again.”