“You tell me,” he said, voice dipping low. “Is it working?”
The door creaked open again.The air snapped.
Chad Dawson strolled, swagger on autopilot, mouth curled in that same tired sneer.
“Well, well,” he drawled. “Entertaining the masses, Arden?”
The shift in her expression could’ve stopped traffic. Cold. Immediate.
“What do you want, Chad?”
Gideon didn’t flinch. He watched. Quiet. Assessing.
Chad’s eyes flicked to him, noting the suit, the posture, the kind of presence that didn’t need an introduction. His lips twitched. “Didn’t know Dot’s was taking reservations from the GQ crowd.”
Gideon didn’t blink. Didn’t budge.
The long silence stretched between them before Gideon spoke.
“Arden was giving me a crash course in local customs,” he said, voice smooth as poured bourbon. “I think your version might be more… dramatic.”
Chad’s jaw ticked.
Arden’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Just like that, the game changed.
Raisedvoices cracked through the noise, sharp and escalating.
Near the dartboard, Donny and Travis squared off, already halfway to stupid.
Shoulders braced. Fists twitched. Glass shattered.
Arden moved before the sound finished breaking.
Dot started to rise, but she cut him off with a quick shake of her head. “I’ve got it.”
The bar stilled. The air pulled tight.
“Enough!” Her voice split the tension like a blade, clean and ruthless. No panic. No pleading.
It hit the room like a whipcrack, and for a moment, the world forgot how to breathe.
From the bar,Gideon watched her move. Commanding. Unflinching. Built for these moments.
Donny turned, but his gaze flicked sideways. Right to Chad.
Of course.
“What, we got a problem in my bar?” Chad stepped forward, grin slick as oil.
Arden’s spine locked. “It’s not your bar.”
But Chad didn’t know when to quit. “Gonna let her treat ya like that, Donny? She’srealgood at sticking her nose where it don’t belong.”
Her fists curled. “Chad. Sit. Down.”
Too late. The spiral had begun.
