3

    The man approaching her table wore confidence like a second skin. Amelia noticed that first. The easy smile. The relaxed shoulders. The way he moved through the crowded bar as though he had every right to be exactly where he was going.

  

  He stopped beside her table and gestured toward the empty chair opposite.

  

  "Is anyone sitting here?"

  

  His voice was pleasant enough. Friendly, even. She could say yes, but lying felt unnecessarily rude when he had only asked a simple question.

  

  "No," she said. "It's free."

  

  He smiled wider.

  

  "Mind if I join you?"

  

  "I was just finishing my drink," she said carefully.

  

  He missed the hint entirely or chose to ignore it.

  

  "Perfect timing then," he said, already pulling out the chair. "I'll buy you another."

  

  He sat down before she could respond. Amelia's fingers tightened slightly around her glass. The bar was not particularly busy. There were at least three other empty tables she could see from where she sat.

  

  "I'm Daniel," he said, extending his hand across the table.

  

  She looked at it for a fraction too long before remembering that refusing to shake someone's hand was unforgivably rude.

  

  "Amelia."

  

  His grip was firm. He held on just slightly longer than necessary before releasing her.

  

  "So, Amelia. What brings you here on a Friday night?"

  

  "Just unwinding after work."

  

  "Rough week?"

  

  "Something like that."

  

  She offered a polite smile and hoped he would take the hint that she was not particularly interested in conversation. Instead, he seemed to interpret her response as an invitation.

  

  "I know exactly what you mean," he said. "I've been working twelve-hour days all week. Sometimes you just need a drink and some good company, you know?"

  

  Amelia made a noncommittal sound and glanced down at her book, still open on the table.

  

  Daniel followed her gaze.

  

  "What are you reading?"

  

  "Just a novel."

  

  "Romance?"

  

  Heat crept up her neck.

  

  "Yes."

  

  "I like stories," she said simply.

  

  A waitress appeared beside their table.

  

  "Can I get you anything?"

  

  Daniel answered before Amelia could speak.

  

  "Another of whatever she's drinking, and I'll have a pint of lager."

  

  "Actually—" Amelia started.

  

  But the waitress had already turned away. Amelia stared at Daniel. He smiled back, apparently oblivious that he had just ordered her a drink she had not asked for.

  

  "You said you were finishing yours," he said, nodding toward her nearly empty glass. "Thought I'd save you the trouble of flagging someone down."

  

  It was such a small thing. So minor that objecting would make her seem unreasonable. But she had not wanted this drink. Now she was trapped.

  

  "That's kind of you," she said quietly.

  

  "No problem." He leaned back again, looking pleased with himself. "So, do you come here often?"

  

  "Occasionally."

  

  "I've never seen you before."

  

  "It's a big city."

  

  "True." He studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering just slightly too long. "I definitely would have remembered you, though."

  

  There it was. The shift from friendly to something else. Something that made her skin prickle with discomfort. She did not know how to respond to that, so she said nothing.

  

  "You here alone?"

  

  "Yes."

  

  "That's brave."

  

  "Brave?"

  

  "A woman alone in a bar on a Friday night." He shrugged. "You never know who you might run into."

  

  The comment felt like a warning and a compliment tangled together in a way that made her deeply uneasy.

  

  "I'm perfectly safe," she said.

  

  "Of course you are." His smile widened. "Especially now."

  

  The waitress returned with their drinks. Amelia watched as Daniel paid for both, waving away her attempt to contribute.

  

  "My treat," he said.

  

  She forced herself to smile.

  

  "Thank you."

  

  He raised his glass.

  

  "Cheers."

  

  She lifted hers reluctantly and took the smallest sip possible. Daniel drank deeply before setting his pint down and leaning forward again.

  

  "So, Amelia. Tell me about yourself."

  

  "There's not much to tell."

  

  "I doubt that." His eyes travelled over her in a way that made her want to pull her cardigan back on despite the warmth of the room. "What do you do for work?"

  

  "I'm a project coordinator."

  

  "Sounds important."

  

  "It's really not."

  

  "Don't sell yourself short." He grinned. "I bet you're brilliant at it."

  

  She was not sure how he could possibly know that, but arguing seemed pointless.

  

  "What about you?" she asked, hoping to redirect the conversation away from herself.

  

  "Sales," he said. "Corporate accounts, mostly. It's boring stuff, really. But it pays well."

  

  He launched into a detailed explanation that Amelia stopped listening to after thirty seconds.

  

  "So," Daniel said, his tone shifting into something more intimate. "Are you seeing anyone?"

  

  There it was. The question she had been dreading since the moment he sat down. She could lie. Say yes. Invent a boyfriend who was waiting for her at home. But lying still felt wrong, even now.

  

  "That's quite personal," she said carefully.

  

  "Is it?" He grinned. "I'm just making conversation."

  

  No, he was not. He was assessing whether she was available. Whether pursuing her further would be worth his time.

  

  "I'd rather not discuss my personal life with someone I've just met," she said.

  

  It was the firmest thing she had said all evening. Daniel's smile faltered for just a moment before returning, slightly tighter than before.

  

  "Fair enough," she said. "I can respect that."

  

  But his tone suggested he did not respect it at all. An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Amelia glanced toward the door, calculating how quickly she could leave if she simply stood up right now.

  

  "You're very pretty, you know," Daniel said suddenly.

  

  She looked back at him, startled.

  

  "Thank you."

  

  What else could she say?

  

  "I mean it," he continued. "You've got this whole... I don't know. Innocent thing going on. It's cute."