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“Not until tonight, apparently.” She lifts her glass. “To better decisions.”

I clink my glass against hers.

For a few moments, neither of us says anything. And it’s not awkward. It’s surprisingly nice.

She spins slightly on her stool and glances my way, taking me in. “You hiding out?”

I glance at her, trying to figure out if she knows who I am or could be a reporter. “That obvious?”

“Well,” she says. “You’ve got your head down, hat pulled low, and you glance around like someone is coming to find you. A wife, maybe? Girlfriend? If it’s both, I’m out of here.”

Okay, maybe not a reporter, I think, relieved. She’s funny, too.

I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t have either of those. No need to worry.”

“What about you? Are you hiding from a husband or boyfriend?” I counter.

She snorts. “I don’t have time for a boyfriend, let alone both. I don’t know how cheaters balance both. But I’m from L.A., and famous people do exactly what you’re doing right now when they don’t want to be recognized.”

“I’m not famous. Just looking for some quiet.” I smirk, giving her sass right back.

I might be lying about the famous part, but me being famous is relative. Some people outside of the circuit wouldn’t know who I am.

She shakes her head, then swirls the whiskey in her glass. “Same. Quiet sounds nice.”

I nod. Fair enough.

She studies me for a second. “Bad day?”

“Not really.” I shrug.

She gives me a look as if she doesn’t believe my answer.

I swirl the whiskey around my glass. “Okay, maybe not the greatest day. But then again, not the worst, either.”

Her expression softens. “I get that.”

Something about the way she says it tells me she really does. The noise of the casino fades into the background, and before I realize what’s happening, we’re talking. Not about real things. Just random stuff. Favorite restaurants. Worst first dates. The weirdest things we’ve ever seen in airports while traveling.

She tells me about a woman she once saw trying to bring a live baby chicken through security.

I laugh so hard that whiskey nearly comes out of my nose. “You’re making that up.”

She holds up her hands. “I swear I’m not.”

“No way.” I chuckle.

She’s grinning now. “Cross my heart.”

I don’t even know her name. And I don’t think I should ask because it’ll lead to more questions. That’s the weird part of all of this. Usually, people lead with questions when they know your real name. And tonight I don’t want that.

What do you do? Where are you from? Nope, don’t need it.

Tonight, neither of us is who we really are. It’s like we’ve silently agreed to leave reality outside. Just for a little while.

Eventually, she rests her chin on her hand. “Okay.”

I wrinkle my brow. “Okay, what?”