We ate in silence for a few minutes, the noise of the room filling the spaces between us. We’d shared multiple meals over our time working together, and I marveled at how being quiet with her now was easy, even in the middle of chaos.
I didn’t turn my head when I heard Priya’s name. I didn’t react at all. I let my attention drift the way it always did when a keyword hit.
“—told you she was gonna hustle you,” one of the men near the pool table said, voice loud with alcohol and satisfaction.
“Bullshit,” another voice barked back. “She didn’t hustle me. She—she cheated.”
Laughter erupted.
A third voice chimed in. “She did not cheat. She just played like she had eyes. Girl had aim.”
“Yeah,” someone else said. “And she took your money like it was her job.”
More laughter.
Madden kept eating, unaware. She didn’t glance around. I didn’t think she clocked the conversation because her focus remained on her plate and the small patch of normal she was trying to keep. That was fine. Let her be lost in her thoughts for now.
I lifted a wing and bit in, shifting my gaze to the reflection in the framed black-and-white photo of the marina on the wall beside our table.
One man stood a little apart from the group. Still part of the circle—but off to the side. He held a cue loosely, not playing yet. He didn’t laugh as hard. He didn’t lean in. His shoulders stayed tight even while everyone else relaxed.
Someone nudged him. “You still sore about it, man? She cleaned you out twice.”
His jaw flexed. “Drop it.”
“Aw, come on,” the first guy goaded. “You were sweet on her.”
“Was not.”
“Were.”
The man’s grip tightened on the cue. Not anger exactly. Something… stiffer. Like he was trying to hold a lid on something that wanted out.
He glanced toward the bar, then toward the door. Quick. A check.
Not unusual in a bar.
But the timing hit wrong.
“Maybe she’d still be around if you’d asked her out,” another guy said, laughing. “Instead, you let her take your last twenty and said thank you, ma’am.”
The man’s mouth flattened. “She was smart,” he muttered.
Not cute. Not hot. Not sexy. Smart.
That word snagged.
Smart meant he’d probably talked to her. Smart meant he’d seen her as a person. Smart meant the loss had landed differently than it might have for a total stranger.
Madden reached for another onion ring. I leaned in, voice low, casual enough not to trip her alarm. “Finish up.”
She paused mid-bite and looked at me.
I didn’t give her the explanation yet. I didn’t need her head turning toward the pool table.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
