I stared at the keys, wondering what, if anything, I should do about them, when Sarah came out the front door, smiling.

“Hey,” she said. “They accepted.”

“Great,” I said. She was referring to the Hayden family. The house on Crandall was ours.

“And some agent’s coming by with an offer on this place at seven,” she said, coming up to the driver’s door of her car, facing me across the roof.

I opened the passenger door, leaned in, took out the keys, walked around the car, and handed them to her. “Here,” I said. No lecture, no smartass comment, no rolling of the eyes, no shaking of the head.

“Thanks,” Sarah said, pocketing the keys, and smiling with amusement at my restraint. “You keep acting this way, people will start wondering whether you’re such a big asshole after all.”

And she reached her hand out to mine and led me inside.

Acknowledgments

I want to thank my agent, Helen Heller, who helped bring this book into focus before she found it a home, and pretends you’re not high maintenance even if you really are.

To all the folks at Bantam, and in particular Bill Massey and Andie Nicolay, my thanks for their confidence, attention to detail, and making the process so much fun.

Special credit goes to my wife, Neetha, whose practice of leaving her purse unwatched in grocery store shopping carts sparked the idea for this story. Why she sticks with a guy who’s more like Zack than I’d like to admit is beyond me.

About the Author

LINWOOD BARCLAY is a staff columnist for the Toronto Star, where he has worked for more than twenty years. He’s the author of four books published in Canada, including his memoir, Last Resort: Coming of Age in Cottage Country, which was shortlisted for the 2001 Stephen Leacock Medal for Humour. Bad Move is his first novel. He lives in Burlington, Ontario, with his wife and two children, where he is at work on the sequel to Bad Move.