Rhys lost track of just how many drinks he had downed in the past hour. He did have a delightful buzz going on right now. This was a good thing. It was a weekday, but he didn’t care. He needed to distress.
His eyes shifted and caught the outline of the girl on the other side of the counter in the low light of the bar neon. She was sitting with her legs crossed on her left side; her brown hair sat on her shoulders. Rhys smiled. She looked like Emily. Or maybe his mind was already playing tricks on him.
An upbeat jazz-blues piano filled the air. Rhys turned his own attention back to his glass of whisky, his eyes occasionally glancing over at the girl. The drink in your hand was almost empty, he downed it and tapped on his glass for more whiskey. The bartender poured him another glass be
