Page 27 of On the Rocks

I walked into my office and crossed the room to drop my bag. I’d no sooner put it down when a knock sounded.

“Come in!”

“Cora’s here,” Connie said, poking her head inside. “Want me to send her in or have her wait?”

“Send her in,” I said. Better to just rip off the bandage. Should be one hell of a Monday morning.

Connie disappeared, and a moment later, Cora stood there.

“Morning,” I said.

“Good morning,” she replied, glancing around the office for a beat. Her eyes widened dramatically, and she surged across the room to the large walnut bookshelf in the corner. “Is this a Henri IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac?” She picked it up off the shelf.

“Be careful with that!” I darted after her, carefully removing the bottle from her hands and putting it back on the safety of the shelf.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” she said. “I didn’t mean to disturb your royal collection.”

“That’s one of the most expensive liquors in the world!” I said. The bottle could go for up to two million dollars. “It’s aged for?—”

“One hundred years,” she cut in. “I know. It comes in a decanter made of 24-karat gold and sterling platinum, encrusted with diamonds. At least, that’s what I always read. Guess now I know it’s true.”

I was impressed with her knowledge. Then again, maybe I should stop being surprised considering her chosen profession. “Is that all?” I asked. Her eyes bored into me. “I know you want to say something else.”

“It’s a little pretentious to leave it out like that, don’t you think?” She gave me a wry smile. “What is it you’re trying to say?”

“I think it says I have refined taste.” I smirked. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell me otherwise.”

“Ithink it says you’re the tacky kind of rich that enjoys flaunting your extreme wealth.”

I huffed, biting down on a laugh. Cora had never had a problem speaking her mind. It was one of the things I’d always appreciated about her while we were dating. “Admit it. You’re a little dazzled.”

“I was actually just wondering if you mounted the bottle to the ceiling, would it act like a disco ball with all those diamonds?”

“Is that more or less tacky?”

She looked around the office again. “A disco ball could be exactly what this place needs to liven it up.”

“Are you calling me boring?”

“I’m saying your taste in furnishings is…understated.”

“Should I assume that’s a euphemism for ugly?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “I didn’t say that.”

My office was on the top floor of the building, offering a sweeping view of Manhattan. A large, custom-made walnut desk dominated the room, accompanied by a plush, ergonomically designed leather chair. Some interior designer I’d paid way too much money had adorned the walls with artwork I’d also probably paid way too much money for. My favorite part was the high-resolution monitors and smart office system that had been integrated into my state-of-the-art audio-visual setup. I could control everything from the lights to the window shades to my Spotify playlists with a voice command. “Well, as much asI appreciate your comments on the contents of my office, I did actually schedule this meeting for a reason.”

“I figured,” she said. “Though my interior design feedback comes highly rated.”

I gestured to the twin sofas that had been added to the room for more casual meetings. “I just wanted to check in and make sure you had everything you needed.”

“The team’s been great so far,” she said. “And the lab really is impressive.” She sounded like it hurt a little to admit it.

I smirked as she sat on one of the sofas. I took the other. Cora crossed her legs, and my eyes were immediately drawn to a shapely calf muscle. For a beat, I envisioned running my hands along the smooth skin there, over her knee, and up her thigh—god it was hot in here! And dammit, why was I letting my thoughts drift to places they definitely shouldn’t go? I shrugged out of my suit jacket.

Cora reached forward suddenly, snatching a photo from the coffee table between us. “You framed it!” she exclaimed.

I opened my mouth to respond, unsure of what she was talking about, until she flipped the frame around. It was theGQarticle where I’d been dubbed the Cocktail King. Heat pooled in my chest, and I sat a little straighter. “Yes, I framed it.”

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