Chapter Eighteen
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Tristan turned, stoodwhen he saw Schumacher and friend coming their way.“We’re gonna head to the bar for a few drinks.Why don’t you join us?”Schumacher said, his eyes on Cassie.
“We can’t,” she said.“We’re on the clock.”
“Oh, come on, I won’t tell.Who’s gonna target me here?”He looked around the half-empty restaurant.
She gave him a tight smile, and Tristan could easily picture her giving a suspect that same look when she’d been a cop.“Those are the rules.”
“Rules were meant to be broken, didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”
“Not these ones.”
“Fine, then, you can sit and watch us drink.”He went to put his arm around her and lead her away.She sidestepped him and gestured for him to go first.“After you, sir.”
Schumacher tossed her a smirk over his shoulder.“I like it when you call me that.”
Tristan went to step between them, but she held him off with an upraised palm and fell in line behind Schumacher.Asshole.
The bar was surprisingly busy.Schumacher and friend took a booth off to the side and kept a steady flow of drinks coming to the table.Tristan and Cassie sat at a different booth watching them.
“Never seen anyone drink like that outside of Vegas,” she murmured nearly an hour later, taking a sip of her water through a red and white-striped straw.
“Me neither.”He’d lost count of how many drinks their client had finished.
She looked at him in surprise.“You’ve been to Vegas?”
“Once, for a buddy’s bachelor party while we were stateside on leave.”
“And how’d it go?”
“He got so wasted he barely made it to the ceremony the next morning.They broke up four months later while we were deployed.”
She winced.“Ouch.”
He shrugged.“He’s better off.We all saw it coming.”
She raised an eyebrow.“Did you?And did you say anything before he married her?”
“Yeah, back when he was talking about proposing.”
“Damn, I wish I’d had a friend like you to stop me from making all my relationship mistakes.Would’ve saved me a lot of suffering.”
