Jessica sat beside me, relaxed as ever, a glass of wine in hand. Sloane was on my other side, already a little tipsy, laughing too hard at her own stories.
“It’s technically your birthday weekend,” Jessica said, already halfway into her second drink.
Sloane raised her glass. “A toast,” she announced. “To surviving the month-end report—and to Elena! Happy birthday!”
I laughed, shaking my head at her, a fond smile tugging at my lips. “You’re ridiculous.”
Jessica clinked her glass against Sloane’s. “Congratulations, Elena. A hot single mom on her birthday.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re making it sound dramatic.”
“That’s because it is,” Jessica said. “Divorce is dramatic. Birthdays are dramatic. Bars on Fridays? Peak drama.”
“I’m literally drinking juice,” I pointed out.
Sloane leaned closer, squinting at my glass. “Is that... mint?”
“It’s a mocktail,” I said. “I drove.”
“And you’re sober,” Jessica added, nodding approvingly. “Responsible. Mature. Boring.”
“I prefer alive and well-adjusted,” I said dryly.
I was halfway through my drink when the bartender—Brandon, Jessica’s cousin—set another glass in front of me.
“This is for you,” he said.
I frowned. “I didn’t order—”
“Someone did,” he said, nodding casually toward the far end of the bar.
I followed his gaze.
He sat alone on a high stool, one elbow resting against the counter, posture relaxed in a way that suggested comfort rather than arrogance. Black leather jacket. Dark grey t-shirt underneath.
When our eyes met, he lifted his glass slightly in a silent toast.
Jessica nudged my arm immediately. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
I sighed. “Don’t.”
She grinned. “Single mom. Out at a bar. Being sent drinks. I’m emotionally invested already.”
Still, I gave him a small nod and took a sip of the drink. Citrus and something faintly floral. Whoever had picked it had good taste.
“Safe choice,” I murmured.
“What?” Jessica asked.
“Nothing.”
We went back to talking. Sloane grew louder, more animated, until her phone buzzed and she announced that her boyfriend was outside.
“I should go,” she said, standing a little unsteadily.
After she left, Jessica checked the time and sighed. “I should head out too. It’s late.”
I reached for my bag. “Yeah, me too—”
