He looks pained. “Could you do me a solid and choose one of these drinks?”

Irritation flares. “Just spit it out, Beau.”

“Fine.” He picks up both glasses and shoves the beer toward me, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “Take the beer. I tried to give you a choice, but—”

I grab it out of his hand. The glass is still chilled. He must have come right from the bar, or from his party. “The anticipation is fucking killing me,” I snarl. “What went wrong at your event?”

Beau’s eyes go wide. “Nothing went wrong. People would have appreciated more robust catering, but I told you that before. Do you really want to talk about my event right now?”

“I’m assuming that’s what all this groveling is about.” I hold the glass up between us. “Why the hell else would you come in here like this?”

The whites of his eyes seem huge as he shakes his head from side to side. “It’s not about my event.”

“Then tell me what it is about.” I register then that the bullpen is still hushed, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary happening. Not that I can see over Beau’s shoulder, at least. “Right. Now.”

He takes a fortifying sip of his cocktail. “I was hoping you’d have seen it yourself, or that someone else had told you, but here I am, sacrificing myself for the greater good.”

“Beau...” I’m ten seconds away from losing my cool completely.

“Okay.” Beau stands up straight and takes a deep breath. “Your dick is on the internet.”

I almost forget I’m holding the beer and catch it at the last moment. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Listen, at some point last night, and I don’t have all the details...” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

“My dick is not on the internet.”

“It is, though.” He’s scrolling in staccato stabs through his phone, and with a sinking feeling I realize he’s not shitting me. He’s getting proof. “This is not a joke.”

I study his face like I’ve never studied anything before, but there’s not a single hint he’s kidding at all. The blood drains from my face. Each moment stretches out into eternity. And then Beau turns his phone toward me.

It’s our company Instagram account.

The top photo in the feed is a picture of the Bliss waterfall.

It’s...just the waterfall.

“That’s not my dick, you fucking idiot. That’s a waterfall.”