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Raymond shot her a sideways glance, catching the bright red flush climbing up her neck, and a satisfied smirk played on his lips.
He barely touched his own food, dedicating the entire meal to manning the grill so the two women could relax and chat.
The Orchard Terrace was one of the hottest dining spots in the city, famous for its incredibly tender BBQ and stunning atmosphere.
But their real claim to fame was their signature Peach Blossom Nectar, a legendary cocktail that had gone wildly viral online.
It was a staple order for every table on the patio.
As the evening breeze carried the sweet, intoxicating scent of the drink, Quinn couldn't help but peek at the neighboring table.
They were downing pitchers of the famous peach cocktail.
She was absolutely dying to try it.
Catching her longing gaze, Raymond leaned in. "Don't even think about it. Stick to soda."
Tara, whose primary life mission was spoiling her best friend, grinned. "Craving a drink? I got you, babe!"
She waved off Raymond. "Come on, the Peach Blossom Nectar is super light. Quinn is celebrating today—let her live a little!"
Raymond stared at Quinn, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. "She should take it easy. After all, she's a terrible drunk."
The air went completely dead for two seconds.
Tara's eyes lit up like fireworks. She leaned forward, practically vibrating with gossip.
"Hold on, rewind."
"Raymond, care to elaborate? When exactly did she prove she was a terrible drunk?"
"Did she get trashed and throw herself at you?"
Quinn's face instantly burned crimson. Horrified, she violently shoved Tara's shoulder.
"Tara, shut up!"
Watching Quinn panic in sheer embarrassment, the dark amusement in Raymond's eyes only deepened.
Unable to resist Quinn's puppy-dog eyes, Tara flagged down a waiter and boldly ordered two icy pitchers of the cocktail.

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