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I raise my drink to my lips and take a swig. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Will. I don’t want to take up too much of your time. You said you’re here with a friend?”
With a nod toward my glass, he asks, “No wine tonight?”
My head tilts, and then my shoulders fall with his words. He’s recalling my diatribe from last night.
“That was so not me.”
“Unless it was another woman with a habit of pacing and oversharing, then it was definitely you. I’m not judging. At all. I just remember you saying you drank quite a bit of wine last night. I know you’re a good girl. I saw your record.”
My smile is smug. “Who’s the one looking up who now?”
“It’s my job.”
“Sure,” I say sarcastically.
“Seriously, I have to look up your past when you enter the precinct.”
“Where do I live?”
“Twenty Thompson Str—” His hands fall to his hips, and he lowers his forehead and glances up at me. “You’re clever.”
I giggle.Oh God, I’m giggling.And flirting. I can’t believe I’m in a bar, flirting with a younger guy who happens to be a hero cop and smoking hot, and I’m having a good time. I haven’t flirted with anyone since I was fifteen years old.
“I have a photographic memory,” he defends.
I think he’s flirting with me too.
“Call me Lyss.”
I don’t know why I said that. Only one person calls me Lyss.
I instantly regret telling him to do it. It must register on my face because he takes a step forward and says, “If it’s okay, I’d prefer to call you Melissa. It’s a beautiful name. Unless, of course, you prefer I call you ma’am.”
I laugh loudly. “Please no! That is the kiss of death to any sense of confidence a woman has.”
“Melissa it is.” He looks around the bar briefly and then brings his attention back to me. “I’m here with my friend, but I think he’s meeting a woman. Online dating. I’ll never understand the appeal.”
“Your friend wouldn’t happen to be a sergeant named Kent who’s meeting an accountant named Tara who loves kickboxing, crafting, and wine out of the box?”
He raises a finger to his cleft and narrows his eyes. “Either you’re clairvoyant or your friend is most definitely meeting my friend. And if I knowhisdating profile correctly, it says,I solemnly swear I am up to no good. And by no good, I mean, I want to eat Chinese food on the couch and binge Apple TV.”
My back hunches over with my laugh, and I spill a little of my drink on the floor. “That definitely sounds like the kind of guy Tara would go for. She saw him when he came in and went in for the kill. Since they’re missing in action, I take it, they’re getting along, and you are on your own.”
“The wingman never gets enough credit.”
“Try being a wingwoman. We don’t even get a cool name. Just a revision of what you guys are.”
“Yes, wingman is kind of sexist, but wingperson is just lame.” He takes the space next to me and leans against the bar. “What should we call you?”
“Paramour?”
“You’d have to be lovers. Sidekick?”
“Too comic bookish. Copilot in love?”
“Matchmaker.”
I lift a finger as it comes to me and smile. “Fairy god-homie.”
