Page 26 of The Interns

“You sure this isn’t going to compromise our case?” she whispered to Reed.

“We’re just two people getting a drink,” he said nonchalantly.

His hand grazed the small of her back as he nudged her toward two empty seats at the bar. The contact was fleeting, but enough to cause a fluttering sensation in her belly. Aside from a handshake, this was the first time he had ever touched her, and she liked it even though he probably didn’t mean anything by it. This wasn’t the time, nor the place for such silliness anyway. Especially with the firm rules she’d put in place. He was just a coworker, and they were here to work.

“What’ll you have?” he asked as they settled into their stools.

“I’m guessing a glass of sauvignon blanc is out of the question?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth as she fanned her face with her hand to offset the lack of air conditioning. By all appearances, it was not looking good which was a shame considering how a chilled glass would hit the spot right about now.

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Whatever you’re having then.”

“Can we get two High Lifes?” he called over to the bartender. He caught her grimace out of the corner of his eye and grinned. “Hey, it’s the champagne of beers, and it’s cold. Only the best for you, Hendricks.”

She shook her head at him because that was some shameless flirting on his part. Maybe it was all part of the act and this was what it was like to grab drinks with Reed Stanton. So far, it was not unenjoyable. The bartender popped the tops off the bottles and set them on the bar in front of them without so much as a cheers or request for payment, but that didn’t seem to deter Reed.

“Thanks. Hey, do you mind switching over to the Braves game?” He pointed to the relic of a tube television currently playing an episode of Judge Judy on a shelf over the bar.

The bartender gave a wave and climbed up on a step stool to manually change the channel on the set, flipping through a few shows until Turner Field appeared on screen and the announcer’s distinctive voice came booming through the speakers informing them that it was a tie game in the bottom of the seventh.

“Appreciate it,” Reed said, his eyes already glued to the game.

With not the slightest interest in the ballgame and a job to do, Maya casually sipped her beer as she surveyed the room around her. There was no discernable decor aside from neon signs and posters that covered the wood panel walls, promoting whichever brand of alcohol that had provided them. The otherwise empty space was filled with mismatched vinyl chairs and tables, and a slow, but steady stream of people filing in to begin drinking after quittin’ time.

The plumbers’ conversation had come to a stop now that the game was on, so she glanced over at Reed who had inadvertently killed their little surveillance operation. He took a pull off his beer and blindly reached for a handful of the complimentary pretzels sitting in the bowl in front of them. He had left his suit jacket and tie in the truck and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He seemed even more at ease when they were out here compared to the city, and he also looked pretty good while doing it. This was definitely a better look on him than his first day cookie-cutter prep outfit.

“You’ve spent a lot of time in places like this, haven’t you?”

He glanced at her and chuckled uneasily before returning his attention to the game. “Two of my good friends own a bar like it back home.”

Maya nodded and tried to join him in watching the game, but she didn’t make it through an entire at bat before she began to grow restless. Her mind was wandering and thinking not about the case, but the man sitting beside her. The man who had been steadily proving every one of her assumptions about him wrong since the day they’d met. So she thought back to the questions she’d had ever since that first meeting, but was too proud to ask, and decided there was no time like the present to start getting some answers.

“You never told me how you came to meet Al.”

Still clinging to a bit of that pride, she ended up stating it more than asking it, only her attempt at a cool distance was completely transparent as evidenced by the look he threw her.

“That’s an awfully personal subject for two people who just work together, don’t you think?”

“Says the guy who showed up at my house this weekend,” she shot right back.

“That was for work,” he defended, giving her the eye as he tipped the top of his drink her way in place of a warning finger.

She turned in her stool, knees pointing toward him as she looked him square on. He did the same, his knees brushing hers when he turned. There it was again, that feeling in her stomach when they touched. He waved his hand, inviting her to bring on the next retort, and she was so game.

“Then I’ll argue that this is also work related since he’s our boss.”

He nodded and raised his hands in front of him, conceding to her point. “We worked a case together when I was still a deputy,” he explained simply.

“I already knew that, Stanton.”

“It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time.” She shrugged and grabbed her beer from the bar, settling in for the story.

He sighed and shook his head, then took a long swig from his bottle to ready himself. “Around the time I joined the sheriff’s department, the chief started doing these speed traps to drum up some business in order to justify the size of the force. It started well enough. We’d catch travelers speeding through our town on their way to wherever they were going and that kept the streets safer for our residents, so it felt like a public service. A win-win.”

“Sounds like it,” she agreed.

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