A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss
I settled onto one of the barstools, watching them move around each other with the ease of people who'd been together long enough to anticipate each other's movements.
"So," Hazel said, studying me. "How was the drive?"
"Long. Ethan asked approximately seven hundred questions about tall buildings."
"Seven hundred seems conservative." Oliver handed me a perfectly pulled espresso. "Sugar? Cream?"
"Just cream, thanks."
He passed me a small pitcher. The coffee was excellent, rich and smooth without the bitterness I sometimes got at home.
"The party's at a venue downtown," Hazel said. "Everything's getting set up now. We're heading over around four, give them time to finish decorating and all tha