“That hasn’t been proven yet,” I remind him. “But I’d say you run things at your job. The boss, like a CEO or something.”

A smirk tugs at his lips. “How’d you do that?”

“It’s a gift. A weird gift that serves no purpose or utilizes any real talent.”

“I wouldn’t say that. That was pretty impressive. Do you work for the FBI?”

I lean closer to him and say, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

He laughs, revealing a set of perfect pearly whites. It’s a stark contrast from his tan skin. I’d also like to note that his laugh is sexy. You don’t realize how important a person’s laugh is until you’re on a date with someone whose laugh sounds like a dying mongoose.

I hold my hand out, palm facing up. “So are you going to ante up?”

“I don’t have cash on me, but I’d love to buy you and your friends another round.”

I pretend to mull it over. “Hmm. Not sure that’ll cover your debt.”

He dips down, closing the gap between us to position his lips at my ear. “I can come up with other ways to repay you.”

Heat crawls up my neck and into my cheeks. This guy is used to getting his way. I’d bet girls throw themselves at him on the regular. I try to appear unaffected and hike a shoulder. “I’ll take another shot of whiskey to start.”

I peer up at him as the bartender takes his order. Everything about him is smooth. His skin, his voice. Those lips.

It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed. I mean really kissed. A hands-in-the-hair, bodies wrapped around each other, all-consuming kiss.

Somewhere along the line, the desire I’d had for Andrew turned into disgust. Resentment will do that to you. It trickles into your blood like a poison, slow at first, until it’s coursing through your veins. It overrides every other feeling you have, making it impossible to see through the blurriness of anger and disappointment.

I snap back to the present moment when a shot glass is handed to me. The stranger clinks his beer bottle against it and takes a long swig. His eyes flick up at the balloons. “Those for you?”

I grimace at the reminder. “Yup.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Everyone else seems to think congratulations are in order.”

He shakes his head. “Divorces are sad.”

“You wouldn’t think so with how many couples were in the courtroom today.”

“Just because it’s common doesn’t make it any less tragic.”

He’s right. His honesty puts me at ease with this conversation. Either that or the whiskey is melting my reserve.

“I feel like a failure,” I confess. “Just another idiot who married the wrong person.”

“You’re not an idiot. Everyone makes mistakes. At least you had good enough sense to correct it. Do you know how many people stay stuck in their mistakes?”