She studied me for another moment, then touched her pocket, a gesture that seemed unconscious. “Well ... thanks.”
The bartender appeared, placing a fresh lemon drop in front of her. “On the house,” he said with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry about that. Guy’s definitely not welcome in here again.”
“Thanks, Jeff.” Her voice was softer than I’d expected.
“Can I buy you another round?” the bartender asked her friend, who smiled and nodded.
“Vodka soda, please. Heavy on both.”
As the bartender moved away, the friend suddenly gathered her purse. “I need to use the restroom. Back in a few.” She gave the green-eyed woman a meaningful look that I pretended not to notice.
“Subtle, Mia,” Charlie muttered, rolling her eyes, but her friend was already sashaying away.
Someone from hotel security appeared at my shoulder and took the man off my hands. I took the newly vacated seat, placing my snifter on the bar. “I don’t usually crash a girls’ night out, but I couldn’t just walk away.”
She tilted her head, her fingers moving to her pocket again. “That’s decent of you.” She pulled out a small brass object that she turned over in her fingers. A compass, I realized. Old and slightly bent. “Most people would have just minded their own business.”
“I’m not most people.” I took a sip of my cognac, watching her over the rim of the glass.
Her eyes flicked over me, then back to my face. “Clearly.”
It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
She almost smiled as she set the compass on the bar, still fidgeting with it. “So what made you decide to play hero tonight?”
For some reason, I wanted to give her a real answer, not a one liner that would lead to throwing a phone number away in the morning. I could already tell that wasn’t what I wanted. Not from her.
“Call it instinct. I don’t like predators.”
She studied me for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “Well, thank you. I probably would have noticed something was off, but ...” She shrugged. “Maybe not in time.”
“Asher,” I said, extending my hand.
She hesitated, then took it. Her hand was small but her grip was firm, and I felt the slightest callus on her palm. Not what I’d expected.
“Charlie.”
“Charlie,” I repeated, letting the name roll over my tongue. “Short for ... Charlotte?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Only on my birth certificate and when my mother’s mad at me.”
I smiled. Actually smiled. “So, Charlie, what do you do when you’re not being rescued from sketchy situations in hotel bars?”
She laughed, a short, sharp sound. “I don’t make a habit of needing rescue.” She ran her finger along the rim of her glass. “I’m an engineer.”
My interest sharpened. “What kind?”
“The underwater kind.” She gave me a look that suggested she was waiting for my eyes to glaze over.
“Marine engineering?”
She nodded, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “Specializing in safety systems for underwater construction.”
The pieces clicked together. Charlie. Engineer. Underwater safety systems. It couldn’t be a coincidence, after all the company leased the building across the street from this hotel, but I needed to be sure.
“Where do you work?”
She hesitated slightly. “HydroCore.”
