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“And how do you two know each other?” Greg asked, gesturing between her and Al.
CC’s face heated, then heated more when Al shifted on her stool so her leg pressed against hers under the bar. Above the bar, Al swatted Greg’s chest, distracting his knowing brown eyes. “We were seatmates on the flight back to New Orleans.”
He tipped his head back and laughed, almost as loud as Al just had over CC’s flow chart comment. “Half the regulars in this place have been trying to pick up CC since Colby first brought her in here, and you manage it on a plane.” He turned his attention to CC. “You know, this one”—he waggled a finger Al’s direction—“is trouble.”
“Oh, I’m aware.” On more than one level.
He laughed again. “This one might give you a run for your money,” he said to Al, then tapped the bar with the hand not holding the gravy base. “I’ll go check on your dessert,” he told CC, then asked Al, “You want anything?”
“Whatever she’s having.”
Greg leaned across the bar flip, gave his husband a quick kiss, then headed back to the kitchen. Relatively alone again, CC reached for her drink and angled toward Al. “I went straight for dessert. Doesn’t mean you have to.”
Al nudged her knee higher, spreading CC’s thighs farther apart. “Less courses means we get to bed sooner.”
“To sleep still?”
The smoldering look in Al’s dark eyes made CC wonder. Had her thoughts instead strayed the same heated direction as CC’s? Before either of them could say another word, though, Al’s phone vibrated on the bar top. She flipped it over; Rob Dotson’s name lit up the screen.
CC’s rang the next second, Jen’s picture on-screen. “Hopefully it’s good news.”
They spun opposite directions to answer, backs to each other, as the noise in the pub swelled. A large party broke out into “Jingle Bells,” the song catching on with other nearby tables too. CC could barely hear her own client, much less Al talking to hers.
Tony appeared across the bar from them and tossed a key ring to Al. “Use the office and wine closet.”
“Hold just a second,” CC told Jen, then followed Al toward the service area of the restaurant.
Al walked past the wine closet to the office, unlocked it, and gestured for CC to enter. Two minutes, she mouthed, then unlocked the next-door wine closet and disappeared inside.
CC closed the office door behind her and lifted the phone back to her ear. “Alright, Jen, I can hear now. What’s going on?”
“Do you think we could get something added to the LOI that says the real estate won’t be sold separate from the business?”
The unease that had lived at the back of CC’s mind the past three days reared its head again. “You think Dotson might?” She crossed the office and leaned a hip against the desk scattered with spiral notebooks and restaurant supply catalogues. “Did they say something to make you think that?” CC had heard nothing of the sort, but other than their meeting Wednesday, her only contact with the Dotsons had been through Al.
“It’s not what they said,” Jen replied, “so much as what they didn’t. All they talk about, especially Rob, is the business, the whiskey, and the operation, but like, in a vacuum, separate from the distillery itself. And their counsel...”
CC straightened. “Al?”
“You said she’s a real estate attorney.”
“The real estate is half the value of the deal. I’d be more concerned if there wasn’t a real estate attorney involved. But let me talk to her and see what we can get.”
“You think you can reach her now?”
The office door opened, the woman herself entering. “Yeah, should be able to. Give me ten, and I’ll get back to you.” She hung up and set her phone on the desk while Al closed the door.
She leaned against the back of the closest guest chair facing the desk. “My clients think yours are balking.”
“Not balking, just concerned.”
“About? You’ve seen the cash flow and the financing term sheet. You’ve got contingencies.”
CC didn’t see the point in hiding the ball. Not when their clients were literally across the table from each other. They’d move forward with this deal tonight or not. “Are your clients planning to sell the land and move the business elsewhere?”
Al’s brows raced north. “Why would they?” The surprise in her voice seemed genuine. Either she was a fantastic actress, or this was the first she’d heard about selling the land too. “The current location, that building is ideal for the brand.”
“Would they commit to a covenant not to sell?”
