Page 197 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Don’t stress,” I repeated on my way to answer the door. I sucked in a big breath, letting it out in a rush as I swung the door open. My jaw dropped, my pulse skipping a couple beats as I took in Aiden clad in a fitted black tux, his curls slicked back, adjusting his sleeves like some sort of dashing James Bond character.

He was…

Fuck.

He looked so damn good my mouth went dry.

He smiled at me—a real, sweet smile—and the concern I’d felt moments ago shifted into giddy butterflies. “I think you were born to wear this tux,” I said.

He laughed softly, reaching for my hand. “Only so I could deserve to have someone so beautiful on my arm. You look stunning.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean it, Cora. Drop-dead gorgeous.”

A flush washed over me, and all my concerns from before felt silly. I had to relax and give Aiden a break. Of course he’d been distracted and busy working up to this night. But now here we were, about to bask in the triumph together.

It was perfect.

Tonight would be wonderful.

I let Aiden lead me down to the black limo he had waiting for us outside.

“No Ferrari?” I teased. “No Mercedes? No chariot?”

“Thought I’d let someone else worry about the driving tonight,” he said. “But if I knew you’d finally go for a chariot, I might have considered otherwise.” He pulled the door open for me, and I slid across the leather seats. He joined me a moment later, laying his hand on my knee. It sent a shiver up my spine, and I tried to shake off the thought of climbing into his lap. As tempting as it was to fool around a little, it would mean we’d be late for the launch—a very bad idea.

“Nervous?” he asked as the driver pulled away from the curb.

“Not really,” I said. “Mostly excited. You?”

He squeezed my leg, which made me realize I’d been bouncing it. “You’re jumpy.”

“Guess I’m just looking forward to seeing all the hard work pay off.”

He leaned over and kissed my shoulder. “I’m really glad you came on board, Cora.”

“Me too.” For a moment, I thought he might lift his head and kiss my lips, but he pulled back, turning to look out the window. He spent the rest of the thirty-minute drive on his phone.

As we pulled up to the Glasshouse, the event space for tonight’s launch, I slipped my Masked Mixer mask over my head, settling it across my eyes. “How do I look?”

Aiden slipped his phone into his jacket, then reached out to adjust the mask. “Perfect. I’ll try to remember not to blow your cover tonight.”

I smirked. “Now that would get the fans talking.”

We exited the car, and Aiden offered me his arm. A pair of towering security guards escorted us into the venue.

I gaped at the space as we were let through a door. I’d seen pictures of the Glasshouse online, but tonight it had been totally transformed into a gorgeous lounge area featuring plush velvet seating, luxurious floral displays, and gold accents that reflected the warm lighting. The massive windows offered breathtaking panoramic views of the Hudson River and the Manhattan skyline, the buildings glittering against the evening backdrop. The numerous outdoor terraces had been fitted with mini bar stations. And a huge Elixir branded step and repeat was roped off along the far wall where the guests entered. They paused for the press and photographers that crowded around, conducting interviews and taking photos. But the real showstopper was the large, mirrored bar set up in the center of the room where expert Elixir mixologists crafted signature cocktails and mocktails.

“This is incredible,” I said, reaching up to adjust my mask once more. I turned to Aiden when he didn’t respond, only to find him waving down a group of influencers. It looked like the same crowd that had gathered to watch me compete at Bottom of the Barrel.

“Suppose I should introduce you,” he said, adjusting his suit jacket.

I blinked hard, trying not to read too much into the way he’d said that, like it would be an inconvenience. I knew this was his least favorite part of his job—playing happy host. He already wore that same tight smile he’d had on that night at Bottom of the Barrel. It was obvious he was stressed.

For a moment, I thought he might offer me his arm, but he simply inclined his head across the room. “Shall we?”

He set off for the influencers, and I followed, having to rush to keep up. Part of me considered taking his hand. I thought my presence might comfort him, but an even bigger part of me worried he would yank his hand away in response. He was less than a foot from me, but the distance suddenly felt enormous. The warmth and sweetness from the limo had dissolved, replaced by what felt like indifference. I knew I was playing the Masked Mixer tonight, but when he looked back at me, he was all business, and I immediately missed my Aiden.