The brunette raised her glass to the bartender again, oblivious as the handsome stranger slid into empty stool beside her and questioned her sudden drinking problem. Arching an eyebrow curiously at him, she was surprised to see a pair of dark shades greet her green eyes, especially in such a dark place already. It took her a second to guess he was hiding something, but as a keeper of her own deep and dark secrets, she was not one to talk. Besides, the guy could have a drug problem or something for all she knew. This was place was not exactly prim and proper city.
"Wise? Who are you sugah? My daddy?" she retorted, setting the glass down and waving the bartender on to fill it up once more. She had come to New York because no one asked questions. Period. This was no small town in Mississippi where people knew your name and your story. No, no one was supposed to give a rat's butt about you in New York City. Yet, this man was breaking every rule in prying and if his meaning was sinister, he was going about it in a backward way for sure. Or was it a smart way? He was playing the good guy and really was a bad one. Either way, Rogue played it the same.