Valentine took a long drink of whiskey, sighing in relief as warmth bubbled up in her stomach. Though it was acquired, Valentine loved the taste. Didn’t like the taste of wine of beer — but whisky? Whisky was her guilty pleasure.

Her brows furrowed when she glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of you chattin’ up another woman for the third time. You were new in town, of course. Naive. Probably didn’t quite understand their intentions.

But a promise was a promise. And you’d promised to hang out with her tonight. Hell, she’d taken off work to buy you a drink. She stood, glancing at the bartender.

“Hold off on the whiskey for a bit.”

She said firmly, before pushing off of the counter and approaching Maille. Her lips pulled upwards into a grin, voice dripping with faux sweetness as she wrapped an arm around Maille’s shoulder.

“Now ain’t this a sight. I figured you were all mine for the evening, but I see I’ve been mistaken. I suppose there’s plenty of you to go ‘round, huh?”

She mused, her tone light.