Page 14 of One Week Wingman

“Be brave,” I joke. “Like I said, the fries are on me!”

I head back inside the cavernous back space, still smiling at her predicament. Roxy is a force of nature here at the bar, as her little amateur dramatics with my date proved. She made it clear the very first day we met that she wasn’t going to fall for my (many) charms, and that friendship was the only thing on the table for us. But surprisingly, that wasn’t just a brush-off line. She’s become a good friend, and I can always count on her to tell it like it is.

Although clearly, she hasn’t been so upfront and honest with the folks back home…

“What do you think then?” Flynn asks, from where he’s poring over architectural blueprints.

“I think you’ve picked another winner,” I tell him, casting my eye around, and making sure not to get sawdust on my designer suit sleeve. “Retail space, perhaps?”

“I’ve got my eye on this for my furniture workshop,” Flynn replies. “Bring in a tenant for the retail in the front unit, apartments upstairs.”

I whistle. “Look at you, turning into a real estate mogul.”

Flynn laughs it off. He may have a successful construction business, but he still likes to act like he’s just a guy in scruffy flannel, swinging a hammer. “Nah, I just make so much noise working, everyone else would kick me out.”

“Sure, sure.” I yawn.

“Late night?” Flynn asks, looking amused.

“Yes, but not for the reason you’re thinking. I had those tequila guys in town,” I explain. “I promised to show them the sights, and somehow, we wound up at a club until three. And then Katz’s until five for ruebens,” I add, shaking my head. Now that I’m in my thirties, I’m feeling these late nights more and more. I sigh, stretching. “I’m getting too old for this.”

“You love it,” Flynn laughs. “And I’m guessing you got the contract?”

“Exclusive rights on their new line, for Mavericks and Renegades,” I announce proudly. “We’ll be their U.S. launch, for the next six months.”

“Way to go.” Flynn congratulates me.

I source all the liquor for our bars, and I pride myself on only stocking the best, most interesting brands around. You can walk into any bar in town and get a glass of Jack on ice, but we have an 18-year aged whiskey from the oldest distillery in the Scottish Highlands, where I waded through a peat bog with the owner himself to secure our supply. And if you order a margarita? It’s now coming with top-shelf, small-batch, organic tequila from agave hearts harvested in the foothills of Jalisco.

I’m all about quality and exclusivity—and not just in my liquor.

“So what’s next?” I ask Flynn, as he rolls the plans away. “This should keep you busy for a couple of months, getting it in shape for tenants.”

“Haven’t you heard? Charlie’s eyeing another location.”

“Already?” My eyebrows shoot up. “We just got Renegades up and running.” Our second location has a retro, old-school vibe, and has been a big hit.

“He thinks we’re on a roll.” Flynn shrugs. “Use the momentum, build the empire. He was talking about a wine bar, maybe.”

“Nowthatis interesting…” I muse. I may have built my reputation on the liquor side, but wine is my passion. “Which reminds me, I better get going. I have a tasting scheduled, a biodynamic vineyard, they’re doing some really innovative stuff.”

“All that wine talk is over my head,” Flynn laughs. “But let me guess, the rep is young, female, and gorgeous?”

“What makes you think that?” I answer with a smirk. “And also… Yes.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “Same old Seb.”

Back at Mavericks,I find the rep waiting at the bar. She’s a statuesque brunette, poured into a pair of hip-hugging jeans and chic blazer.

“Ms. Modesto?” I ask, greeting her.

“Natalia, please.” She flashes a smile and lands a kiss on each cheek. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Sebastian.”

“Now that could be very good for me, or very bad,” I flash a grin. “Which is it?”

Natalia smirks. “Well, my friend told me you’re handsome, charming, and an incorrigible flirt.”

“That sounds about right,” I agree, leaning closer.

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