“It is nearly eleven sharp, my good sir,” I said.“Oh, no, Sharpe is the alchemist,” he said.“I beg your pardon?” I asked.Winde smiled at m.... “That is the issue – there’s no Pardon to beg.”I thought I heard capital letters in that sentence where I would not expect them. I smiled, ever so slightly. “Pardon is your ... friend?”“My...” He paused. “What is the human term? Apprentice.” He nodded. “I am the master of hunters for this city.”“You hunt?” I asked.Winde inclined his head. “Quite well.”“For. The sun was setting over the bay. We had hot dogs, popcorn, and cold lemonades. American. Ok, the lemonades were spiked with rum. But the rum was from a bottle I had smuggled into the stadium in my left cowboy boot, so the theme still fits. It was probably the most wholesome date I had been on all year.Toward the end of the game Mac brought up that she had a girlfriend. I'd been living in San Francisco for more than a year, so I tried to hide my disappointment and act like girls brought that up. More

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