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“She’s definitely what I’d call an expert,” Dominic said.
“Really?” Stacy said excitedly. “I follow a couple of mixologists on Instagram. I wonder if she’s one of them.”
“You ever heard of the Masked Mixer?”
“Shut up! Seriously?”
Aiden grinned, glancing at me. “She has a video with her take on a Whiskey Sour. If you like to experiment with your drinks a little, she could blow your mind.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the way he talked about her.
“Okay, I can practically see their eyes glazing over,” Trent muttered. “We know you think Cora’s the greatest thing since sliced bread.”
“She is!” Aiden nudged him playfully as our drinks showed up. The waitress took our food orders. When she’d disappeared, Aiden clinked his Old Fashioned against my glass.
“Besides, who wants to talk about alcohol?” Vincent said. He nudged Aiden. “Boring! The ladies like talking about fragrances.”
“Oh, here we go,” Aiden said, rolling his eyes.
“Dare I ask what you know about fragrances?” I laughed.
“I’m the CEO of Summit Fragrances. It’s a family business—like Trent’s, but mine’s been around a bit longer,” he said. “We’re getting ready to launch our latest perfume. I’m calling it Violet after my daughter.”
“Oh, you have kids?” Stacy beamed. She’d always loved children.
Vincent pulled out his phone, bringing up photos. “Just the one so far, but she’s amazing.” He scrolled through images of a beautiful baby girl, and my heart melted a little at the adoring look on his face.
“She’s adorable,” Stacy gushed.
“How old?” I asked.
“Almost six months. We think she’s just about to start crawling.” He beamed proudly as he flipped to another photo. “Oh, this is Violet with Hailey. Dominic’s daughter.” The little girl in the picture looked to be around five years old.
“Looks like you’ve got a little built-in babysitter,” I said.
“She’s convinced Violet’s her doll,” Dominic replied. “I can hardly get her to leave when we visit.”
“That’s too cute,” Stacy said.
I glanced over at Trent as Stacy started talking to Dominic. Trent wasn’t saying much, mostly just rolling his eyes at his friends, but there was something more open and relaxed about him here. I never would have guessed he was capable of relaxing. It looked good on him because, damn it, everything looked good on him. The way his dark hair hung across his forehead, it took everything inside me not to reach across the table and brush it out of the way so I could see his eyes better. Even out of his suits, he was sexy as hell.
He caught my eye, his eyebrow arching, almost in challenge, lips tilting up in a hint of a smirk.
I wanted to look away, but I didn’t. It would only fuel the blush hovering beneath my skin.
“What?” he grumbled.
“Nothing.”
“Why are you looking at me?”
“I’m not.You’relooking atme.”
He huffed, narrowing his eyes almost playfully.
My heart lurched. I needed to stop having these thoughts.
This was myboss. Not to mention the grouchy, yelling jerk who had gotten me fired.