Edward's skeptical gaze had been burning a hole in me from the moment we walked into the bar. His judgment wasn't subtle—he clearly disapproved of the apparent dynamic between me and Sasha. The age gap was glaring, and knowing Edward, his old-fashioned views were impossible to miss.
I couldn't entirely blame him. Sasha did look much younger than her age. Her petite stature and youthful face often gave people the impression she was still in college, maybe pursuing some degree. Her smooth skin and slightly chubby cheeks added to the illusion, though her lean frame spoke to her discipline and active lifestyle.
Edward returned, placing our food in front of us, his movements brisk but tinged with an unspoken judgment.
"Whiskey on the rocks, old man," I said, breaking the silence. "And as for Sasha, it would be—"
"One white wine spritzer," she interrupted, her voice confident and polite.
I smirked, raising a brow. "Excellent choice, honey," I said, playing up the role for Edward's benefit.
The old man's eyes narrowed into thin slits as he stared at me, unimpressed by my choice of endearment. He didn't say anything, but his disapproval was palpable.
Moments later, he returned with both drinks. His protectiveness showed as he set Sasha's glass down with deliberate care, giving me a look that felt like a silent warning. It was as if he suspected I'd tampered with it somehow, which only made the situation more amusing for me.
"Hard whiskey always goes well with supper," I commented, taking a sip of my drink and savoring the burn.
Edward ignored me completely, turning his full attention to Sasha instead. "What's your age, young lady?" he asked, his voice firm but tinged with curiosity. "And what college do you go to?"
Sasha placed her glass down and straightened in her seat. Her polite smile turned into something more assured. "Sir, I'm 32, and I don't go to college. I work as an assistant to Mr. Hoffman."
The revelation hit Edward like a splash of cold water. His eyes widened slightly, his mouth opening as if to speak but closing just as quickly. He blinked, clearly reevaluating the entire situation.
"Well," he said after a pause, his voice softer and more measured now, "you don't look a day over 20. I suppose I owe you an apology."
Sasha chuckled, her earlier amusement now laced with genuine warmth. "It's alright," she said, lifting her glass in a mock toast. "It happens all the time."
Edward looked at me, his expression slightly sheepish but still sharp. "Guess I misjudged you, Smoke Gun."
I took a bite of the steak, savoring its smoky, tender perfection. Edward hadn't lost his touch. Across from me, Sasha was delicately enjoying her grilled salmon, her eyes lighting up with each bite.
"Good?" I asked, raising a brow.
She smiled, nodding. "It's amazing. Best meal I've had in a while."
"Told you Edward's a genius," I said, smirking.
For a moment, we ate in comfortable silence, the lively bar fading into the background. The food, the warmth—it all felt like a brief escape from the chaos of our lives.
Edward cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the clinking glasses and murmured conversations of the bar. It was the kind of deliberate noise he made when he had something he couldn't hold back any longer.
I downed the rest of my whiskey, the heat crawling down my throat and settling warmly in my chest. His gaze shifted to Sasha, his curiosity practically bursting at the seams.
"Young lady," Edward began, his tone conspiratorial.
"Sasha," she corrected politely, her expression calm but curious.
"Alright, Sasha," he said, rubbing his hands together with a grin. "Mind sharing your anti-aging secrets? You've got the kind of skin people would kill for. Is it some magic potion, or are you just blessed by the gods?"
Sasha chuckled softly, tilting her head as if considering her answer. "Nothing too magical," she said, lifting her wine glass for a small sip. "I drink plenty of water, walk a lot, and, well, I do have a bit of a complicated skincare regimen."
Edward raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed but still suspicious. "Complicated, huh? What's that mean? Like 20-step routines?"
"Not quite," she replied with a playful smile. "But I do take it seriously. Sunscreen, moisturizers, you name it."
He leaned back, shaking his head in awe. "And here I thought all you needed was soap and water. Guess I'm out of touch."
"Don't worry, Edward," I interjected with a smirk. "You're already in the 'distinguished' category. No skincare routine can top that."
Edward barked out a laugh, his earlier skepticism replaced by genuine amusement. "Fair enough, Smoke Gun. Fair enough."
Sasha chuckled, glancing at me. "You sure know how to charm your friends, don't you?"
I shrugged, signaling for another drink. "It's a gift."
Edward shook his head as he walked away, muttering something about "kids these days," leaving Sasha and me to savor the humor of the exchange.
"Sir, are you related to Mr. Hoffman?" Sasha asked, her curiosity piqued as she swirled her wine.
Edward grinned, leaning against the counter. "Oh yes, yes. I was his father's best friend," he said proudly.
"Really?" Sasha's eyes widened in surprise, glancing at me with newfound interest.
"This '41 Smoke Gun' here," Edward began, smirking as he gestured toward me, "was a real pain in the ass back in the day. A delinquent, a troublemaker, a certified nuisance—you name it."
Sasha turned to me, her face a mix of amusement and disbelief. "You? A troublemaker?"
I sighed, swirling the remnants of my whiskey. "You're embarrassing me in front of my colleague, Edward," I said, feigning exasperation.
Edward waved me off, undeterred. "Embarrass you? This guy here," he said, pointing at me with mock seriousness, "was a gang leader of sorts.... called themselves the Executioners or something equally dramatic. Thought he was the coolest thing since sliced bread, but he looked like a damn street thug with a bad haircut."
"We're not lovers," I cut in sharply, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere. "Just colleagues."
"Oh no, Edward sir," Sasha said quickly, coming to my defense with a polite smile. "He's an incredible detective. Probably the best in our department."
Edward raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "Only a former goon would know how to track down goons, I suppose," he said, laughing heartily.
Sasha chuckled, glancing at me again. "I guess your past explains your... resourcefulness," she said, clearly trying to hold back a grin.
I shot her a look. "Enjoy your drink, Sasha."
Edward laughed again as he turned to another customer, leaving me to endure Sasha's quiet amusement. "Quite the colorful history you have, sir," she teased.
"Don't make me regret bringing you here," I muttered, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips.