Page 71 of Bar Down

“He’s got a new job,” Marcus said.

“Maybe not for long if he keeps acting like this. Hockey players are supposed to fight, not executives.”

“He’s going to push again. What happens next time?”

Stephanie didn’t hesitate.

“Next time, we hit back smarter.”

He looked at her. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Then he gave a single nod.

“For now,” he said, and there was steel in it.

Not defeat.

Resolve

Chapter Eighteen

Stephanie

The lock clicked behind her, and Stephanie leaned back against the door for a second longer than necessary.

Her apartment was dark except for the muted city light spilling through the windows and the glow of one lamp she’d left on near the kitchen. The familiar outlines of furniture and stacked campaign binders greeted her in half-shadow, but none of it felt steady.

She kicked off her heels, one then the other, letting them land wherever gravity decided. Her body ached—not from effort, but from tension she couldn’t seem to let go of. The adrenaline from the bar, the confrontation, the punch, was still humming under her skin.

Behind her, Marcus stepped inside and closed the door. He didn’t speak, didn’t move far from the entryway. He just stood there, jacket still on, eyes on her. Always watching, always calculating.

She didn’t want calculation tonight. She didn’t want spin, or strategy, or consequences.

Stephanie exhaled, pushed off the door, and walked barefoot toward the speaker on the bookshelf. She scrolled through the options on her phone with a shaky thumb and tapped one of her “off-script” playlists. Low, rhythmic jazz filtered through the room—seductive but slow. Something wordless. Something with space.

The first few notes hung in the air like a question.

She turned back to Marcus.

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