Oh crap. I was staring. I jolted and looked around for my purse. “We’re officially closed.”
“We should talk,” he said.
The tingles and swirls were gone. Anxiety filled their place. “Yes. I got you into a mess.”
He waved my words away and came around the bar. Yep, three powerful strides. I’d need six. But he didn’t take me in his arms and toss me on the counter because he couldn’t stand one more second apart. That wasn’t a surprise. His bending to dig in a cupboard was.
He withdrew two short tumblers and a bottle of Copper Summit Gold from a bottom cabinet. That was where the Baileys stored all their special bottles they didn’t serve to the public. I’d never served a drink from there.
He poured a finger in each and scooted one over. He lifted his chin across the bar. “Have a seat.”
A shiver traced over my skin. A subtle command. He wasn’t bossy or pushy. He wasn’t loud or brash. And I ate it up like the attention-starved woman I was.
“Thank you.” I situated myself on the same stool Cara had sat on and crossed one leg over another.
His dark gaze lifted and met mine. Surely he hadn’t been looking at my legs.
I took a small sip. Copper Summit Gold was one of the best. A top-shelf spirit, it had the most complex flavor profile in our line. Vanilla, oak, and spices mingled without one element taking over. It was robust, yet smooth. Rich, yet simple. Pure bourbon, the way it should be made.
I had pitched a post describing it as so established it had the full charisma and not just the “rizz,” but Wynter had shut it down. I had thought that as the youngest sibling in the Bailey family, she’d be open to new ways to reach the just-turned-twenty-one crowd. So far, she was proving me wrong.
Cocktails were a way to capture younger consumers, and she knew that, but we’d never grab their attention with Copper Summit’s uber-polished aesthetic. We were entering the world of short video, andrizzwas the terminology I needed to be using.
The golden bourbon inside my glass almost glowed under the soft bar lights. I dug out my phone and snapped a few photos. I never forgot the older crowd who loved their bourbon neat and insisted that it was a sipping drink. The counter was the best place to capture images.
Tenor watched me without saying anything. His hands were propped on the counter and he stood like he was bracing himself.
I slid through the images and held my phone out for him to see. “That’d make a good post.”
The tumbler was in focus, the amber liquid inside catching the light. But behind the drink was Tenor, strong arms braced on the bar top. He was slightly out of focus, thanks to the setting I’d used, but he captured as much attention as the drink.
He frowned. “Why would you use it?”
“It gives the drink a personal touch, and you would get the attention of males and females alike.” How many women would stare at it like me?
His brows drew together. “How?”
Was he oblivious? I fluttered my fingers around the screen. “Guys see that and think, ‘Maybe I could look that strong drinking Copper Summit Gold.’ Women look at it and wonder if you’d be the one serving it.”
The furrow between his dark brows deepened. “You can’t even see my face.”
“That adds to the mystery. You can be anyone to them.”
His lips thinned. “Junie’s the face of Copper Summit.”
“Junie doesn’t speak to everyone.” I clamped my teeth down on my lip. My inside thoughts had escaped through my mouth. I wasn’t usually that forward. I made suggestions, and when I was shut down, I dropped it. Copper Summit wasn’t my business to run. It was Tenor’s, and maybe I didn’t shut up around him because he’d already saved me once tonight. If we kept talking shop, he wouldn’t have a chance to tell me what a tragically bad idea going to the wedding was.
He was still propped on his hands, his shoulders hitched up. “She speaks to our demographic. They know her. She’s familiar. And now she’s famous in her own right.”
“I know. She’s brought a lot of new customers to Copper Summit.” I spun my glass in a circle. Junie also gave me more rein when it came to managing her personal social media. Working for her fueled so many ideas that I would love to use for Copper Summit, but my first attempts had not been successful.
“But you don’t think that’s enough?”
I shouldn’t be having this conversation with him. “I don’t want Wynter to think I’m going around her.”
“You’re off the clock. Speak freely.”
Uh, no. Unlike what Cara and Brock thought, I was not dating the boss. He was helping me out. “It’s nothing. I just think all of you Baileys are amazing and I think the public would agree.”
