Page 3 of Whiskey & Wreckage

“I’m a private investigator.”

I blink. “Seriously?”

He nods. “Mostly cheating spouses. Sometimes missing people. Occasionally something more… complicated.”

“God, I really did attract a professional cynic.”

“I prefer realist.”

I twist in my seat to face him. “So, you spend your days proving people suck and your nights drinking whiskey while roasting strangers at bars?”

He lifts his glass in a mock toast. “You make it sound so noble.”

I actually laugh this time, real, unexpected. His dry wit throws me off balance in the best way.

“And what about you, Poppy?” he asks. “What do you do when you’re not judging my life choices?”

“I work for a financial company,” I say with a shrug. “Run accounts. Handle whatever the boss throws at me.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“Not really. The boss is my ex’s dad, and I’m basically the go-to errand girl with access to spreadsheets.”

He blinks. “Damn. That’s… loaded.”

“You have no idea.”

He leans in slightly, like I’ve just told him I moonlight as a spy. “You don’t seem like the take-orders-and-fetch-coffee type.”

“Oh, I’m not,” I say sweetly. “But I fake it really well. Add a blazer and you’d almost believe I have my life together.”

He chuckles. “Now I’m intrigued.”

“I’m a mystery wrapped in business casual and mild resentment.”

“I’ll make sure the FBI knows,” he deadpans.

I shake my head, grinning despite myself. “You’re infuriating.”

“And yet…” he arches a brow, “you haven’t told me to leave.”

Damn him. He’s right.

My phone is silent in my bag, blessedly off. The bar hums with quiet noise around us, but in this little corner, it’s just us. Banter. Sarcasm. A weird sense of calm.

And then his expression softens just a fraction.

“I’m sorry, by the way. About what happened.”

The sincerity in his voice startles me more than anything else tonight.

“Thanks,” I say quietly. “It’s been… a day.”

“You don’t have to tell me everything,” he says. “But you also don’t have to pretend it doesn’t suck.”

And just like that, something inside me cracks.

I sigh and lower my head, resting it on my crossed arms.

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