I turn away from him to face the bar, poking the ice in the drink with my straw. He said he wanted to keep it professional, but he's talking about it. And joking about it, no less. "Sorry, too soon?" He finally says, his tone slightly edgy.I pause for a moment, lost on how to answer. I can feel him watching me as I keep my focus on the glass. "No, its fine," I take a quick sip of my sip.He looks relieved, "Thank god""It's not like it was that good," I mutter under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear. "Excuse me?" I can hear the disbelief in his tone.Boy, it feels fantastic to insult him, even if I'm lying. "You heard me." He's the recipient of the coldest glare I can give him while holding back my laugh.I can practically hear him grit his teeth, and he pours the rest of his whiskey sour down his throat in one swift movement. Not the best idea, how much has he had to drink?Slamming the glass down on the table, he looks at me. Eyes blazing. "No one has said tha
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