"Note?" The man tilted his head, as if puzzled. "What note?"
"Just back off, okay?" I said, taking a step back myself, almost without realizing it. "Whatever you're selling, I don't want any."
At that point, I was ready to bolt if I needed to. Talk to Jaden later and just retreat to the bar and Jon and the cute bartender who'd been flirting with me. Maybe I could talk the bartender into getting this guy tossed.
Ponytail man seemed about to answer me at first. Then, without meeting my gaze, he closed his mouth, still smiling that creepy smile. Without speaking, he gave me an odd little bow, as if we'd just now run into each other. As if I hadn't just threatened him with the cops.
"Very nice to see you again, Ms. Taylor," he said smoothly. "I am sorry if my presence here disturbs you. I do sincerely hope you have a very pleasant evening..."
Before I could think of a reply, he was already walking away.
I watched him pass. His face remained unreadable, his eyes focused in the distance.
Remembering the note that morning in the bar, I clenched my jaw.
How did I always, without fail, attract the weirdos? Everyone in my family lost their sense of humor about the whole thing after I'd been nearly abducted for like the fourth time when I was nine. When my father died, that mantle of making sure I didn't end up on some serial killer's stainless-steel surgical table got passed to Jon.
Jon took the job seriously. A little too seriously, in my opinion. But on days like today, I found myself grateful he was around...and that he was a fourth degree black belt in Choy Li Fut, a really kick-ass type of kung fu he taught in San Francisco.
Either way, my New York curse was still clearly in effect.
The sooner I got out of this shitty town, the better.
***
I was still thinking about ponytail guy as I made my way past security and into the backstage corridor. I wondered again if Jon was right, if the guy was SCARB. Supposedly parts of SCARB were made up of real fanatics, so it wasn't totally inconceivable.
I found myself wishing I'd stopped in a kiosk at some point that day and looked up the meaning of the three-spiral symbol. But the last thing I needed was SCARB or the Feds tagging me in the system if it turned out to be something that tied to one of their 'person of interest' flags. My luck, it would be connected to a seer terrorist organization.