smirked and straightened, putting an end to their close-to-horizontal meeting of the minds. Ever the gentleman, he held out his hand, helping her back up to standing.
“We should get going. Don’t want you to be late.” Ashley led the way to his door.
“That dress should probably be illegal,” he quipped as he trailed behind her.
She stopped and turned. “Technically, it’s yours, Chambers. I’m completely innocent.”
“It would be worth every minute in jail.”
They took the elevator downstairs to the parking garage and the waiting limo. It was a half-hour ride to get out to the distillery in New Jersey. The time flew, mostly because she was perfectly content to hold hands and just be with him. They went for stretches without talking, the quiet almost comforting to her. Marcus, however, seemed to become more anxious with every passing mile. He tapped his knuckle against the window, staring out as the world whizzed by them.
“Nervous?” she asked.
He nodded. “I am. I’m excited for the company. I just want to make my dad proud. I need to nail the interview. He’s waited a lifetime for Chambers Gin to be featured in the magazine. It’s a big break. Well, I mean, aside from the Manhattan Matchmaker premiere. That was a big break, too.”
“No, I get it. The interview is a big deal. You’ll do great.”
“We’ll see. I tend to clam up a bit in these situations. I don’t enjoy having to sell myself. I’d prefer the gin do the talking for me.”
They pulled up outside the distillery, a large industrial building, not quite the locale for her killer dress. But tonight was about Marcus, which meant making him happy, and apparently the dress did exactly that. They climbed out of the limo and were greeted by a handful of paparazzi. Grace had, once again, done her job—the photographer from Maryann’s website was there.
“Hello, everyone,” Marcus said, taking Ashley’s hand as the photographers snapped away. “Don’t stay out here too long. All of the excitement’s inside. Feel free to join us for a nip of Chambers No. 9.”
He then slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, his warm lips remaining for a moment and leaving behind a lasting tingle. Part of Ashley’s coming tonight was to show up Maryann, but she couldn’t escape the feeling that there was more behind that kiss, something that went beyond sex or putting on a show for the cameras. There was something very protective about it, as if he was holding on to her, tightly.
Ashley knew Marcus’s sister, Joanna, the second they stepped inside. She had Marcus’s presence—tall and ridiculously eye-catching, just a much more feminine version.
“Jo, this is Ashley,” Marcus said.
His sister swatted his arm. “Of course it is.” She swallowed Ashley up in a hug. “It’s so wonderful to meet you. Marcus has told me so much about you.” Amusement crossed her face and she glanced at her brother. “You’re right. She’s even more gorgeous in person.”
Ashley didn’t know what to say. She merely side-eyed Marcus.
“I’m nothing if not honest,” he said.
Joanna took Ashley’s hand. “Come on, Ash. I’ll take you into the central tasting room so we can mingle with the press. Marcus has Oscar Pruitt waiting for him.”
“He’s waiting?” Marcus asked, an urgent edge of annoyance in his voice. “Bloody hell, Jo. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Don’t be such a tosser. You were already on your way when he arrived. I got him settled in the tasting room a few minutes ago. He made it clear he expects a private tour of the facility, just the two of you, but don’t worry. I’ll keep everyone out until you’re done.” Joanna patted him on the shoulder.
Marcus blew out a breath through his nose. He squeezed Ashley’s hand and pecked her on the forehead, but his stress level was evident. “Enjoy yourself, darling. I’ll see you in a bit.”
She gripped his arm to stop him before he could walk away. His expression was as worried as could be. “Oscar Pruitt isn’t going to know what hit him. You have the best gin in the country, and you know everything there is to know about it. Now go make your dad proud.”
He grinned at her, shaking his head in disbelief. “Where exactly did you come from, Ashley George?”
“Across the hall, remember?”
He smirked. “Oh, right.”
The central tasting room was buzzing with people and activity, a dozen or so round, high-topped tables with upholstered leather stools around them. There was a dark wood bar at the far end, manned by two bartenders. The wall behind them was lined with shelves, fully stocked with bottles of Chambers No. 9 and the original Chambers gin. The space overlooked the actual distillery, separated by a massive glass wall. Joanna pointed out the enormous metal tanks on the other side and a pair of large, unusual copper stills Marcus had reportedly sought out at an auction and paid a pretty penny for. Fifty-pound bags of the nine botanicals needed to make No. 9 were everywhere—dried orange peel, coriander and, of course, juniper berries, the essential ingredient in gin.
“Thank you so much for doing this for us,” Joanna said. “Marcus and I really appreciate it. I’m glad he’s stopped being so daft about you.”
“I’m sorry?”
She shook her head. “He’s had a thing for you from the day he moved into that building. I’m just glad he got his head screwed on straight.”
Marcus had had a thing for her from the beginning? Was that really true? There had been so many unbelievably rough patches since then. “Part of our problem was our first date. I told him this stupid story about how my ex-boyfriend broke up with me because I wasn’t ready to have kids. He stopped liking me for a stretch in there. I figured it had to be about Lila. And I understand. I just wasn’t ready to discuss that on our first date.”
“He can take it a bit far. You should have seen the hoops he made the nanny jump through. I’m sure it would’ve been easier for her to get a job with the Secret Service. His protectiveness of Lila is certainly an obstacle, but you seem like a smart woman. Certainly you can figure it out. I mean, if you want to figure it out.”
Ashley nodded, computing everything Joanna had said.
“So, do you?” Joanna asked. “Want to figure it out?”
Despite her doubts about herself, about whether she could live up to such a monumental and important role, there was only one answer. “I’d like to try.”
“Good, then.” She put her arm around Ashley and squeezed her close. “Now let’s get to work.”
Ashley accompanied Joanna as she made her way from table to table. They chatted with writers, laughed with liquor distributors and enjoyed a cocktail along the way. Servers circulated through the room with hors d’oeuvres. Joanna had two employees start small-group tours after Marcus and Mr. Pruitt had reportedly finished theirs. It all seemed to be going perfectly, but Joanna wouldn’t stop checking her watch.
“Marcus should be done by now. It’s been nearly an hour since they finished the tour. It’ll be a shambles if this doesn’t go well. Maybe I should go check on him.”
One of Joanna’s tour leaders grabbed her arm and whispered something in her ear. “Bloody hell. I’ll be there in a minute.” She turned back to Ashley. “Do you mind running back to the tasting room and poking your head in to see if Marcus and Mr. Pruitt are getting on alright? See if they need anything?”
“Oh, sure. Of course.”
“Now that I think about it, that’ll be brilliant. Mr. Pruitt asked me some questions about you earlier. Maybe you can chat him up a bit.”
Ashley wasn’t sure exactly what they could chat about, but she knew very