It was late evening, and the bar was almost empty except for the soft hum of a piano in the background.
Mason sat at the corner booth, a half-empty glass of whiskey before him, his eyes fixed on Valerie who sat across from him, laughing too hard at her own joke. She was clearly tipsy.
"You know what your biggest problem is, Mason?" Valerie slurred slightly, her finger pointing at him.
Mason tilted his head, pretending to be amused. "Tell me, Valerie. What's my biggest problem?"
"You're too... good. Too noble. Always trying to do the right thing. Even when the whole world is stabbing you in the back." She giggled, then leaned in closer.
"That makes you weak. But that's also why I like you."
Mason's eyes narrowed slightly. "You like me? That's new."
"Oh please," Valerie said, waving her hand dramatically. "Don't act surprised. If I wanted to ruin you, I would have done that years ago. But I didn't. You know why?"
"Why?" he asked, already anticipating something slippery.
