Chapter 69
1892 Words
✨Late Night ✨
Elena’s POV
The bar was louder than Elena expected.
Warm lights hung low over polished wood tables, and the murmur of voices blended with soft music playing somewhere behind the counter. Glasses clinked, chairs scraped occasionally against the floor, and the smell of grilled food drifted through the air.
She stood just inside the doorway for a moment, taking it all in.
“You coming, analyst?” someone called from across the room.
Elena looked up.
Three members of the task force had already claimed a large table near the back. Gareth waved her over, a grin already on his face.
She walked across the room, sliding into the empty chair they had left for her.
“You didn’t have to come,” Gareth said as she sat down. “We know you federal analysts like to hide in hotel rooms with spreadsheets.”
Elena smiled faintly.
“That’s a stereotype.”
“Is it wrong?”
“Usually.”
The waitress appeared and set a menu in front of her.
“You’ve been here before?” agent Talbot asked.
“Once,” Elena said. “For a conference.”
“That doesn’t count,” Gareth said immediately. “Conferences mean hotels, bad coffee, and people pretending they understand PowerPoint slides.”
Elena laughed quietly.
“That’s… not entirely wrong.”
The drinks arrived first.
Someone raised a glass.
“To the new analyst saving our investigation.”
Elena lifted her own glass slightly.
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“But you’re the one who found the pattern,” Gareth said.
“Part of it.”
“You’re modest too,” he replied. “That’s rare.”
Elena took a sip of her drink, letting the conversation move around her for a while.
Stories from previous cases.
Complaints about paperwork.
A debate about which federal agency had the worst bureaucracy.
For the first time since she arrived, she relaxed a little.
Being new somewhere always came with a strange weight—everyone watching, everyone measuring.
But tonight felt easier.
Gareth leaned back in his chair beside her.
“So,” he said, turning toward her, “how does someone end up following financial crime trails for a living?”
Elena set her glass down.
“Numbers make sense.”
“That’s your big explanation?”
“Pretty much.”
He studied her for a moment.
“You’re not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Someone older. Probably quieter. Definitely less…” he gestured vaguely.
“Less what?”
“Interesting.”
Elena raised an eyebrow.
“That’s a bold word choice.”
“I stand by it.”
She leaned back slightly in her chair.
“You flirt with all the visiting analysts?”
“Only the ones who understand money laundering structures better than the rest of us.”
“That’s a very specific group.”
“Quality over quantity.”
She laughed softly.
Gareth grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
“You always this serious?” he asked.
“I’m not serious right now.”
“Really?”
“You should see me in meetings.”
“Terrifying?”
“Sometimes.”
The table erupted into another conversation further down, someone arguing loudly about football statistics.
For a moment Gareth and Elena sat slightly apart from the noise.
“You have someone back home?” he asked casually.
Elena hesitated just a second.
Her mind flashed briefly to Ari.
The way he had sounded on the phone that morning.
Come back soon.
She kept her tone light.
“My life is mostly work.”
“That’s not a no.”
“That’s not a yes either.”
Gareth leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.
“Good.”
Elena gave him a look.
“You’re confident.”
“I’m observant.”
She smiled politely but didn’t encourage it further.
Still, the conversation stayed easy.
Light.
Gareth told her about the city.
The best places to eat.
The terrible traffic near the federal building during rush hour.
“You’ll learn the shortcuts,” he said. “Or you’ll go insane.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Another round of drinks arrived for the table.
Elena checked her phone briefly while the others were distracted.
No new messages.
She tried not to notice the small flicker of disappointment that followed.
Gareth noticed the glance.
“Waiting for someone?” he asked.
“Just checking the time.”
“You’re not escaping already, are you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The group continued talking, laughing, sharing small stories about past investigations.
Elena found herself enjoying it more than she expected.
She had always been more comfortable in quiet rooms and data analysis than in crowded bars.
But tonight felt… different.
Maybe it was the unfamiliar city.
Maybe it was the fact that for once she wasn’t the only person thinking about the case.
Or maybe it was the fact that she could get out of her head this evening.
Gareth nudged her lightly with his elbow.
“You know,” he said, “when they told us an analyst was flying in, I expected someone who’d spend the whole night talking about spreadsheets.”
“And instead?”
“Instead you’re sitting here having a drink with us.”
“That’s very rebellious of me.”
“Careful,” he said with a grin. “Your reputation might suffer.”
Elena laughed again.
For a moment, the noise of the bar faded slightly as the conversation at the table shifted again.
But somewhere in the back of her mind—
She still wondered what Ari was doing.
And whether he had checked his phone yet tonight.
The night stretched longer than Elena expected.
The bar had grown louder as the hours passed. More people filled the space, conversations overlapping, laughter rising above the music that played somewhere behind the counter.
Elena leaned back slightly in her chair, her glass half-finished in front of her.
Across the table, two agents were arguing about baseball statistics now instead of football.
Gareth had shifted his chair closer to hers at some point during the evening.
Not uncomfortably close.
But close enough that she noticed.
“You’re thinking again,” he said, watching her.
Elena glanced over.
“I’m listening.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am.”
“You just missed the part where Tom swore the Yankees are cursed.”
She looked at the arguing agents.
“I assumed that was the conclusion.”
Gareth laughed.
“See? You’re paying attention.”
She smiled faintly.
The waitress passed again and Gareth waved her down.
“One more round?”
Elena shook her head.
“I should probably head back soon.”
“You turn into a pumpkin after ten?”
“I turn into someone who has to be in a federal office at seven in the morning.”
“That sounds less magical.”
“Work rarely is.”
Gareth studied her again.
“You’re really that focused on the job?”
“Yes.”
“That intense all the time?”
“Most of the time.”
He leaned back slightly.
“That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Why you noticed the financial pattern no one else saw.”
Elena shrugged lightly.
“It was just numbers.”
“It was more than that.”
For a moment his tone had shifted—less playful.
More curious.
Then he smiled again.
“So,” he said, picking up his drink, “tell me something that isn’t about work.”
Elena considered that.
“That’s a dangerous question.”
“Why?”
“Because I might not have a good answer.”
“No hobbies?”
“I read.”
“That’s still intellectual.”
“Sometimes fiction.”
“Okay, that’s progress.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“I run.”
“That sounds like punishment.”
“It clears your head.”
Elena thought briefly of Ari.
The way his mind seemed to always be moving beneath the calm surface he showed the world.
She pushed the thought aside.
“I prefer quiet,” she said.
Gareth nodded.
“You strike me as someone who likes control.”
“Control?”
“Knowing what’s happening. Understanding the pattern.”
“That’s called analysis.”
“That’s called personality.”
She smiled slightly.
Across the table someone stood and stretched.
“Alright,” one of the agents said. “I’m done before tomorrow becomes miserable.”
A few others followed.
Chairs scraped the floor as people gathered their things.
Gareth looked at Elena.
“Need a ride back?”
“No, the hotel is close.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He stood anyway.
“I’ll walk you out.”
They stepped outside into the cool night air.
The noise of the bar softened as the door closed behind them.
The street was calmer.
A few cars passed slowly under the glow of streetlights.
Elena folded her arms lightly against the breeze.
Gareth slipped his hands into his pockets.
“You sure you’re not from here?” he asked.
“Pretty sure.”
“You blend in too easily.”
“That’s a strange compliment.”
“I meant it as one.”
They walked slowly down the sidewalk toward her hotel.
“You know,” he added after a moment, “most visiting analysts don’t come out with the team.”
“Most visiting analysts probably have more sense.”
“Then I’m glad you don’t.”
Elena smiled faintly.
They reached the entrance of her hotel.
She stopped.
“Well,” she said, “thank you for the drink.”
“Drinks,” he corrected.
“Drinks.”
He hesitated just slightly.
“Maybe we do it again before you head back.”
Elena tilted her head.
“We’ll see how much work I have.”
“That’s not a no.”
“That’s not a yes either.”
He laughed softly.
“Fair enough.”
She stepped inside the hotel lobby, warm light replacing the cool air of the street.
“Goodnight, Gareth.”
“Goodnight, Elena.”
The elevator ride to her floor was quiet.
When she stepped into her room, the silence felt different after the busy bar.
She kicked off her shoes and set her phone on the nightstand.
For a moment she simply stood there.
Then she picked the phone up again.
One unread message.
From Ari.
She opened it.
You still out?
Elena smiled without realizing it.
She typed back.
Just got in.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then—
Good.
She sat on the edge of the bed.
How was your night? she replied.
The reply came slower this time.
Long.
She imagined him at his office.
Or his penthouse.
Probably still working.
Or thinking.
Or waiting.
Her fingers hovered over the screen.
Then she typed.
Mine too.
The phone rang before she could set it down.
Ari.
Elena answered, a quiet smile returning to her face.
“Hi.”
There was a pause on the line.
Then his voice came through, low and familiar.
“Hi.”
And suddenly—
The distance between their cities didn’t feel quite as large.
- Writer
