“I’ll be there.”

On his way to Sinclair’s house, Hunter stopped in at the office. He was pretty sure Ethan Sloan would still be around. By all accounts, Ethan was a workaholic and a genius. He’d been with Lush Beauty Products for fifteen years, practically since the doors opened with a staff of twenty and a single store.

He had developed perfumes, hair products, skin products and makeup. The man had a knack for anticipating trends, moving from floral to fruit to organic. In his late thirties now, he’d wisely set his sights on fine quality, recognizing a growing segment of the population with a high disposable income and a penchant for self-indulgence.

Hunter was also willing to bet Ethan had a knack for management and the underlying politics of the company. And Hunter had some questions about that.

He found Ethan in his office, on the phone, but the man quickly motioned to Hunter to sit down.

“By Thursday?” Ethan was saying as Hunter took a seat and slipped open the button on his suit jacket.

Ethan was neatly trimmed. Hunter had noticed that he generally wore his shirtsleeves rolled up, although he’d wear a jacket on the executive floor. Smart man.

“Great,” said Ethan, nodding. “Sign ’em up. Talk to you then.”

He hung up the phone. “New supplier for lavender,” he explained to Hunter. “Out of British Columbia.”

“We’re running short?”

“Critically. And it’s our key ingredient.” He rubbed his hands together. “But it’s solved now. What can I do for you?”

Hunter settled back in his chair. “Not to put you on the spot. And way off the record.”

Ethan smiled. He brought his palms down on the desktop, standing to walk around its end and close the office door. “Gotta say.” He returned, taking the second guest chair instead of sitting behind his desk. “I love conversations that start out like this.”

Hunter smiled in return. “Tell me if I’m out of line.”