Page 179 of Triplet Trouble For My Billionaire Boss

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Cole asks, finally looking up at me.

I swallow. “Yeah.”

His lips twitch slightly. “You don’t sound convinced.”

I shake my head quickly. “No, it’s great. The place is beautiful. The food smells amazing.”

His brow lifts slightly, his gaze knowing. “And yet?”

I exhale, glancing away briefly before finally admitting in a low voice, “People are staring.”

Cole leans back in his chair, seemingly unimpressed. “Let them.”

Easy for him to say. He’s used to this.

I, on the other hand, am not.

I shift in my seat. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“No.” His response is immediate, confident. “People always talk, Annie. The key is not giving a damn.”

I huff out a laugh. “Oh, well, that’s easy then. I’ll justmagically stop caring.”

Cole smirks. “Exactly.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips.

A server appears at our table, and I use the distraction to refocus.

Cole orders crab stuffed mushrooms and bruschetta to start, Beef Wellington, rare, and a glass of Old Rip Van Winkle bourbon.

I go for the lobster pasta dish I spotted earlier on the menu and stick with sparkling water , though the server does offer me a wine list. I hesitate for a split second before declining. Cole doesn’t comment, but his eyes flick to me briefly.

As the server disappears, I clear my throat, suddenly feeling the need to fill the silence. “So, do you come here a lot?”

Cole shakes his head. “Not really. I have business dinners here sometimes, but it’s not exactly a regular spot for me.”

I arch a brow. “Oh? And where do you usually take your dates?”

His lips curve into something almost smug. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but before I can respond, our appetizers—excuse me,starters—and Cole’s drink arrive.

After that, we’re too busy tasting and snacking. I have to compose myself in a public place and not devour the whole plate of bruschetta all by myself.

Then our food arrives, and oh, wow.

I take one bite of my pasta and nearly groan. It’s perfect. Rich, creamy, and decadent.

Cole watches me, amusement flickering in his eyes as he cuts into his Beef Wellington. “Good?”

I nod enthusiastically, already taking another bite. “Incredible.”

His smirk deepens. “Glad to hear it.”

For a little while, I forget about the people watching us. Forget about the whispers. I focus on the food, the conversation, and the way Cole’s attention never seems to stray far from me.

But it doesn’t last.

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