After a few minutes, I gathered my notes and stood up. “I think I’m leaving to have a proper conversation with Reggie and Elle and then to find a little watering hole.”

Shock stole Lea’s face. “You’re not waiting for the boys to get back?” she asked.

“Nope. I’ve done my best, Lea. It’s enough. Text me if you need me.” I walked out into the sunshine.

When Griffin got home that night, I was curled up on the sofa trolling Etsy on my laptop. I glanced up at him.

“I hope this is not indicative of the way you manage a project when you’re in charge, by leaving early.” I met his eyes and watched him sit down next to me. He closed my laptop. We exchanged smiles. The kind of smiles that lead to other rooms and other antics. He shifted my whole body until I straddled his. Another dangerous move. Our faces were so close they revealed everything. Our love and longing bobbed like blue veins under the incandescent skin of an elderly person.

We held one another’s gaze. A lifetime of conversations passed back and forth silently. I leaned into Griffin. He leaned away from me, denying my advances. For now.

“You impressed the hell out of me today, Bae,” Griffin said and was silent again. Personal and professional feelings blurred then blended together. “You sure as hell impressed your brother. And we both know Henry does not impress easily.” He gathered his thoughts. “No one, not even Julian, has given us such a detailed proposal. It was brilliant, Bae. We love it. When we came out to celebrate, you were gone. We called Phil Richards, and he told us you were a terror about negotiations. You wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was impressed by your reputation, by your name.”

“You forget, I’ve lived in New York for ten years, worked for Julian, and spent half my life shopping and negotiating in vintage stores and estate sales.”

“In your absence, Henry and I brainstormed new recipes. We came up with some ideas. You and Henry are geniuses. I just mix drinks.”

“When someone needs a good basil-infused margarita, they’re not looking for me or Henry.” Griffin smiled. “By the way, I had you with the green cocktail napkins, right?”

“You had me long before that.” He paused. “I loved your little soliloquy on the color green. It made me think.” He continued, “Annabel came by, and I told her the news—that she was going to have to find a new hang out for the month of August. She suggested BLANC. If we decide to open it at night, that is. I suppose you’ve trained your vision on BLANC next.” His smile lingered.