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His white button-down shirt and slacks gave him a polished appearance, even though his tie was loosened, and his sleeves were rolled up. It was clear by his slight dishevelment and the intense scent of alcohol coming from him, that he’d had just about as good of a day as I’d had. I think that was why I was so intrigued.
Someone to share my pity party with.
Work sucked.
I liked Davis, but he had a way about him that just cut me to the core.
It was like he purposely knocked me down every chance he got; and every time I got closer to figuring something out on the case, something else happened that made me start over from scratch.
I wasn’t stupid.
I knew the mob owned a large part of the city. People knew people affiliated with the mob. It wasn't a secret.
But if I could track down the leaders? And find the proof?
I could save this city!
Why was no one helping me? Why was everyone so jaded? Why was everyone so comfortable just turning a blind eye?
As the handsome stranger and I continued to sip our whiskey and sit in comfortable silence, I couldn't help but feel a slight connection.
It was nice not to be alone when I’d had a bad day.
Most times, I was a brooding mess when I went into bars, which was why I almost didn’t come in… but the vintage look of the bar and the fact that I’d always passed it and said, “I’ll go in one day,” got the best of me.
I figured worst case, I’d get a drink and go home.
This wasn’t quite what I expected.
I didn't expect to find only one person in the bar and have that person be just as big of a mess as I was.
It was nice to be validated.
Like someone shared an understanding of the challenges life seemed to always have. It was as if, for a brief moment, we were able to forget our troubles and find solace in each other's company.
He had no idea what was wrong with me.
I had no idea what was wrong with him.
We seemed to get the fact that the other needed some sort of escape.
The dimly lit bar and the scent of cigar smoke created an intimate ambiance, drawing us together. He’d long put out his cigar as we continued to sip our drinks and relax.
There was no pressure for conversation.
No pressure to even look at one another.
It was strange. I’d never just sat with a stranger and felt comfortable.
As the handsome man and I continued sipping our whiskey, he leaned in a little closer, his eyes fixed on me with curiosity. "So, what’s your name?” His voice was smooth and captivating, but it caught me off-guard.
We’d just been sitting there.
“Anna,” I said. “Short for Annabelle.”
“Well,Annabelle,” he said, with a certain sexy emphasis on my full name. “What do you do for a living because you look like you’ve had just as shitty of a day as I have.”
I hesitated. I didn’t know why, but I felt a need to keep my guard up. So, I told a little white lie. "Oh, you know," I replied casually, flashing a playful smile. "Just some boring office job. Nothing too exciting.” No need for him to know the nitty-gritty of my life, right?
