Damien Sterling

It was six in the evening, and the café was packed. I was standing in line, staring at the menu, when someone tapped my shoulder from behind. I turned around. A guy stood there with a mischievous grin that looked like it was hiding a thousand secrets. One hand was in his jacket pocket, and with the other, he held out a business card in front of me. "This is mine, but I'm not giving it to you yet. Because if I do, you won't have a reason to come find me and ask for my name." I laughed. "So what do I do?" He stepped closer and said softly, "Have coffee with me. If you like it, I'll give you the card. If not..." He shrugged, and his grin widened. "...well, I'll still give it to you. Because I'm pretty sure you'll like it." And I sat down, without even knowing his name.