As we were about to leave the bar, Edward's voice rang out, stopping us in our tracks.
"Loren!" he called, his tone carrying a weight that made me inwardly groan.
I clenched my jaw, already dreading what he might say. He'd had enough fun earlier, throwing colorful tales of my youth at Sasha, painting a picture of me that I wasn't particularly proud of. I could only imagine what new revelation he was about to share, especially now that Sasha's respect for me seemed precariously balanced.
For a moment, I considered ignoring him and walking out, but I knew that wasn't an option. With a reluctant sigh, I turned back to face him, masking my irritation with a calm exterior.
Edward was leaning casually against the counter, his sharp eyes glinting with something that looked suspiciously like mischief. Whatever he was about to say, I had the sinking feeling it would be more for his amusement than mine.
Sasha, standing beside me, glanced up at me curiously, clearly intrigued by the old man's persistence. Her curiosity only made me more wary. If Edward had anything left to say, it likely wasn't going to help my case.
"Alright, Edward," I said, keeping my tone steady. "What is it now?"
Nonetheless, his gaze shifted to Sasha instead of me, his expression bright and oddly focused.
"Ol' man, she's too old for you," I teased, breaking the silence before he could say anything. My eyes flicked toward Sasha, and I added with a smirk, "Don't bother trying your cards now. Older men aren't her type."
Edward's face twisted into an exaggerated scowl, his cheerful demeanor evaporating in an instant. The way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed together made it clear he was more annoyed than amused.
"Ah, shut it, Loren," he shot back, his tone tinged with irritation.
It was a rare sight to see him genuinely grumpy, and I found myself struggling to keep a straight face. The temptation to laugh was strong, but I held it back, settling for a restrained smirk.
"Hmph. I know, Loren," he muttered, shaking his head in mock exasperation.
I glanced at Sasha, who seemed caught off guard by the exchange. She stood there with a faintly awkward smile, her cheeks slightly flushed. Whether it was from embarrassment or uncertainty, I wasn't sure, but she looked as though she wanted to be anywhere else.
"Young woman, what's your secret to healthy hair?" Edward asked, leaning slightly over the counter as though he were about to uncover some ancient wisdom.
"My? My hair?" Sasha repeated, caught off guard.
"Yes, your hair," he said with a sigh, gesturing toward his own thinning scalp. "It's beautiful and long. As you can see, my hair's been falling, and my hairline..." He trailed off, looking genuinely disheartened. "...has been receding. So, if you can give me some tips, I'd be grateful."
Sasha blinked, clearly unsure how to react to his sudden lament. Then, recovering her composure, she replied, "Umm… I use hair oil before washing. It can be any oil... mustard, sunflower, coconut... whatever you prefer." Her tone was thoughtful, as though she were giving him the same advice she'd give to a close friend.
Edward nodded seriously, rubbing his chin. "Hair oil, huh? Maybe there's hope for this old scalp after all."
I fought back a laugh at the sight of Edward clinging to her advice like it was a lifeline. Sasha, meanwhile, seemed to be genuinely enjoying her role as the wise hair guru.
"Later, Mallory," I said, flinging open the bar's door and stepping out into the cool night air. Sasha followed closely behind, her steps light and quick.
"Let's go, hair expert," I teased, tossing her a glance as I fumbled with the car keys in my hand.
The metal jingled as I sifted through the small bundle—two apartment keys and two car keys. My fingers instinctively found the right one, and I unlocked the door, sliding into the driver's seat.
The street ahead was packed with vehicles, their headlights glaring like restless fireflies. The city's relentless hum filled the air, a mixture of engines, honking horns, and distant chatter.
I exhaled, gripping the wheel. "It's going to be a long drive, I suppose," I muttered, more to myself than to Sasha. The traffic stretched out ahead, a slow-moving maze.
As I pulled the car into the sluggish flow, my eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, analyzing the road while my mind stayed sharp, anticipating the next turn, the next stop. The city didn't sleep, and neither could I, not with the weight of the day still lingering.
"So, Sasha, you were quite chatty with the receptionist today," I said, breaking the quiet hum of the car engine. My hands gripped the wheel, but I was curious about what she'd been discussing while I wasn't around.
"Yes, well, she was a chatty person," Sasha replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "I was just sitting there, waiting in the lobby with nothing to do, so... it was hard not to engage."
"Hmm, I see," I responded, my eyes never leaving the road as I navigated through the traffic. Her apartment was in the opposite direction of mine, and the usual evening rush hour made every turn feel more like a small challenge.
Sasha didn't seem to mind the slower pace; she glanced out the window, watching the blur of headlights and tail lights as they passed by. "The receptionist always has the latest gossip from around the company," she continued, her voice light but hinting at something more.
"So, what was the talk of the day?" I pressed, my curiosity sharp.
"Noah Dawson," she said without hesitation, her voice almost casual but laced with something else—an edge of knowing.
"Noah Dawson?" I repeated, the name catching me off guard. I hadn't expected this. My mind immediately flicked through any connections, trying to recall everything I knew about him.
"Yeah," Sasha confirmed, glancing at the rearview mirror, her face slightly turned away. "He's a bit of a womanizer, you know? Always the guy with a different girl by his side. But today the gossip was about his girlfriend. Apparently, she's expecting."
The words hit me like a cold splash of water. "What?" I said, unable to mask my surprise. "So, Noah Dawson's about to become a father? And his girlfriend's... expecting, or is this just more rumors?"
"Rumors or not," Sasha said, her voice steady. "It's definitely a clue, and it could be important. Something's off about all of this."
I nodded, my interest growing. I knew better than to dismiss anything that might seem trivial at first. Sasha had a knack for picking up on things most people would overlook.
"So, sales and clothes weren't the only things you were fishing for out there, huh?" I teased, the corners of my mouth curling into a smirk.
Sasha raised an eyebrow at me, a playful glint in her eye before she shifted her gaze back to the window. "Eyes on the road, sir," she reminded me, her tone light but serious.
I chuckled softly, refocusing on the cars ahead, but Noah Dawson's name echoed in my mind. There was something about it, something deeper, something I couldn't quite put my finger on yet. The night was only getting started, and I had a feeling that whatever Sasha had uncovered at that office was just the beginning