“I’ll bring drinks to you,” he said, and then he went back through the door.
 
 “He does everything?” I double-checked with Xander.
 
 “Yep.”
 
 “But this is a lot of work for him.”
 
 “He assured me that he can do it, but there’s a catch: it means you only get what he’s bringing you. You noticed he didn’t take our order?”
 
 “That’s right.”
 
 D returned with a bottle of wine. “This is the house wine. My brother-in-law makes it all the way out in Charleston.”
 
 I barely bit back a laugh.“All the way out,” huh?“I’m surprised you’re serving wine. I thought maybe you’d pull out some Pimm’s or Sazeracs.”
 
 He shook his head, looking as if I’d mortally offended him. “That doesn’t go with my food.”
 
 Mental note: don’t crack any more jokes.
 
 After he poured our wine, he went to the other tables, refilling their glasses before disappearing into the kitchen.
 
 I looked at the fireplace for a few seconds and sighed.
 
 “I so wish my fireplace worked,” I confessed. “I love them.”
 
 “I have one in my penthouse,” Xander replied.
 
 My heart stuttered, and my pulse went up a few notches. “Already trying to lure me back to your place, huh?”
 
 “Doing my very best.”
 
 Holy shit.Okay, this wasn’t just a flirty Réveillon dinner. It was full-on seductive mode.
 
 “Wait... did you say penthouse?”
 
 “Yes, in the business district.”
 
 “Is it an electric fireplace?”
 
 “No. It burns wood, but it’s modern.”
 
 “Doesn’t matter. Fire is fire.” I took a sip of the wine and then another one. “I’m already sold on this place.”
 
 “Wait until you taste the food.”
 
 “You certainly know how to wine and dine someone,” I said carefully. I was fishing for information. Was this his usual MO? Did he impress everyone the way he was impressing me? I had to be stealthy, though, because I’d be super embarrassed if he caught on.
 
 “I don’t usually do this,” he said instantly.
 
 I busied myself by looking at my glass. “You don’t?” I was holding my breath.
 
 “No, Bailey. I really don’t.”
 
 I looked up at him. His eyes were fixed on me.
 
 “I usually don’t even—”
 
 But he never managed to finish that sentence because D came up to us with corn soup. He simply put it down in front of us and left without an explanation.