“I didn’t order this,” I told the bartender.
“She did,” he nodded down the bar.
The woman watching me didn’t look away when I met her gaze — just tilted her head slightly, like she’d confirmed a guess.
When she joined me, she said, “You looked like you needed interruption.”
“That obvious?”
“To someone looking for an opening — yes.”
“Why me?”
She traced a slow circle on the rim of her glass.
“You’re controlled,” she said. “Control is interesting to test.”
“And if it doesn’t break?”
Her smile deepened.
“It always bends first.”
Her knee brushed mine — and stayed there.
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