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She quirks her mouth. “How did you make the cut?”

I grin. “I have my connections.”

The bartender places two drinks on the bar. We lift them and cheers.

I watch her pouty mouth kiss the glass as she inhales her first sip and then lets out a little cough. She’s determined though because she takes a second sip with puckered eyes before putting it down.

“It’s strong,” I muse.

“It’s good.”

“Cognac is an acquired taste.” So are you, I want to add. I don’t. “So, tell me, Harper, what are three things I need to know about you before we continue our evening?”

“Me? Well … I’m from Queens. Born and raised New Yorker. I’m an elementary school teacher, and I absolutely love chocolate.”

“Chocolate? That’s one of the things I need to know about you?”

She takes another sip and nods. “Yes. This is vital. I consider it one of the main food groups.” She holds up three fingers. “Fruits and vegetables, grains, and chocolate.”

“Some people believe chocolate is better than sex.”

“I concur,” she replies.

I lean my elbow on the bar and hover close to her ear. “Then, they’re not being properly fucked.”

She swallows hard. “Your turn. What are three things I need to know about you?”

I sit back and play with the ring on my right hand. “I’m from San Francisco. I’ll be moving back there soon to work for the family business. I’m an arts enthusiast, and I also happen to be a lover of all things chocolate.”

There go those expressive eyes again, widening as if she’s having visions of what we could do with some melted chocolate.

“What do you teach?”

“Fifth grade. I’m at a school up in Harlem. It’s an old, beat-up building with heating pipes that whistle and a disastrous view of an abandoned tenement outside my window, but the kids are absolutely wonderful.”

“Did you always want to be a teacher?”

“Yes. I’ve never had a desire to do anything else. What about you? Your family business … what will you do for them?”

I glance to the side and then back at her. I’m not ashamed of my family, nor do I feel it’s a secret that needs to be kept. Still, I don’t like telling people I’m the heir to a media empire. In some situations, it comes off as gloating for something I didn’t work a day in my life to achieve. In others, it’s an attraction for the wrong kind of people. I don’t think Harper is a gold digger. I just need to be sure she’s not.

“Marketing and advertising. My family has had a business for twenty years, and they want me to come and head up the promotional portion.”

“Twenty years ago, no one was worried about social media. Now, you have to be on every channel possible to be relevant. I’d rather not. I have my few friends I keep in touch with, but that’s it.”

“I have to admit, it’s my one vice. I am a social media junkie.”

“A throwback like you?” She motions toward the room.

I drop my head with a grin. “Guilty. I’ll go hang up my suspenders and fedora.”

“Don’t forget about your holster. You’re definitely packin’.” She laughs.

“There it is.” I point at her mouth.

She raises her fingers to her lips.

There it is.