Page 37

Still glaring at Cam, who stared back with that frustratingly pretty blue, I didn’t bother to acknowledge Edmond’s rude interruption.

“What was your idea, Edmond?” Cam asked, sliding his focus away from me.

“A series of Insta and Twitter posts of women drinking Henley with the hashtag ‘BourbonBabes’ or ‘HenleyHotties’.”

I blinked at him, but tried hard not to leap to a scathing retort. Baby steps, Shay. “What about ‘WhiskeyWomen’?”

He cocked his head, considering. “That could work.”

“Oh, I like that,” Ryan said, then leaned toward me and whispered, “I liked your idea more though.”

Way to stand up for me then. I smiled at him.

“That’s a start,” Camden said, then added, “The ‘women’ one. Not the ‘babes’ one.”

The word “babe” coming from his mouth would have been amusing in itself—Cam was not a “babe” sort of man—but the way he said it, like it was poison tinged with acid on his tongue, ripped a snort right through my nose.

He turned to me. “Something funny?”

I shook my head. “Could you broadcast your hatred of that word any louder?”

“It’s a terrible word.”

Having never met a man who had so many opinions about vocabulary choices, I leaned my arms onto the table and smirked, hoping to get under his skin. “I think it’s great.”

His expression smoothed out, the corners of his mouth tightening. “You also think it’s possible to win at losing. You obviously can’t be trusted.”

“That’s your opinion.”

He came alive like he used to in high school, debating with me the correct use of the word whom, or if Schrödinger’s cat properly explained the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum physics (me), or whether it was just a cruel thought experiment to piss off animal lovers (him). Bright-eyed, his voice came out crisp, with a subtle edge of jest. “The right opinion.”

“What is happening?” Ryan whispered toward the men across from us.

“WhiskeyWomen,” Cam said before anyone could reply. “That’s what we’ll work on this week. I like the idea of an apology, but let’s ponder it a little more. Perfect it.”

“We also have the whiskey expo in Atlanta coming up,” Xavier said.

Cam nodded. “Yes, we’ll think about how to tackle that one, too.”

“Alright.” Booboo rose from his chair. “Let’s get back to work then.”

Edmond also stood, inspecting his watch. “Lunch, anyone?”

I hid my eye roll by pretending to check my phone. Cam stepped out, and Shep’s voice called to him immediately. The marketing department wandered to the door, chatting, leaving me alone with Ryan.

“I wanted to tell you,” he said as he stood. “I have a daughter in high school, and you remind me so much of her.”

“Oh, yeah?” I gathered the abandoned papers on the table, even though I had a hunch the men left them there for me to clean.

Ryan scooped up a few to help. “She’s determined, too. She’s just…so gifted. Anyway, I know it’s hard trying to change the unchangeable, but if you’re anything like my Adelaide, you’ll find your way.”

Warmed, I smiled. “Thanks.”

“I’ll chuck these in the recycling,” he said, taking the papers from me. “Waste of paper, right?”

“Hard agree.”

He left the room, and I took a moment for myself, spreading my hands over the cherry-stained masterpiece that was clearly Ravi’s work. I ducked under to search for his signature, and there it was, burned into the wood near the far end.