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It had been a few months since the Martinville expo, and today was the first day of sales for the bourbon beer. We’d been monitoring the numbers coming in all morning, and as of five minutes ago, it was official: we were in the black, and looking to stay that way for the foreseeable future.
That was encouraging, to put it mildly, and so were the articles that had been hitting the page—both the printed and the online one—about the quality of both the beer and the company. ‘The most exciting new product on the market in over fifty years’ was about as close to lackluster as they got.
“We should celebrate,” Hunter murmured in my ear.
My skin heated at his very words. “Your place or mine?”
I could feel Hunter’s grin stretching wide. “Oh, I’m not fussy. But there is another place I’d like to stop off at first.
#
I mock-glared at Hunter, my hands on my hi**ps. “Seriously? This place?”
“Seriously,” he said. “After all, this is where the magic all began.”
“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I asked. “‘Magic?’”
“Well, that’s what it feels like to me,” said Hunter, with a purely joyful smile that melted the fa?ade of my anger. “Shall I get us a private booth?”
I gave him a playful shove. “You do that, Mr. Self-Made Man.”
We were at the bar where we had first met. It looked like it had had a bit of a makeover since then; a few nicer pieces of art hung on the walls, and the floor looked as if it had been freshly polished. But the color of the stained-glass lamps and the deep walnut of the wood still conjured up happy memories.
Hunter’s fingers tangled with mine across the table of our booth as we both took our seats. “Are you saying you didn’t find it magical, Miss Bartlett?” he said with a smirk, his honey voice spreading out in a satisfied drawl. “I seem to remember several very vocal statements on your part that would lead me to believe otherwise.”
“Really?” I said sweetly. “All I remember is how a certain someone just had to leave the festivities before things could get really interesting.”
We grinned at each like fools. I was surprised we had any blood left in our veins, with all this sap going around.
And I wouldn’t have changed a moment of it. Not for the world.
“Come on, man, she was asking for it!” A drunk slur interrupted my ruminations, and both Hunter’s and my heads jerked around for the source. Just some drunk guy getting kicked out of the bar—wait, was that—
“Oh my God,” I said to Hunter. “I think that’s Chad.”
Hunter scrutinized him before Chad could go sailing out the door. “I think you’re right.”
Well, looked like karma was a bitch. This made the perfect cherry on top to the rest of the Douchebros’ collective fortunes: after the old company went down in flames (it was all those investors jumping ship to invest in Hunter’s new company instead), they’d had quite a hard time finding anyone else who wanted their services.
Knox Liquors had actually tanked so bad without Hunter at the helm that he was able to buy the Knox name back for next to nothing. He’d told me he might use it in the future, but for now, he was happy to be building something of his own.
He’d named the new company ‘Bartlett.’ Just thinking about it now made my heart feel like it was being squeezed.
Hunter interrupted my memories: “So you saw the new space today, right? The one in Charleston? How’s that?”
“Oh, you know,” I said, flagging down a waiter. “It’s all formless white until you start to press some personality into it. I’m sure it’ll shape up in no time, though.”
As soon as Hunter’s company had gotten onto solid ground and his need for my professional services twenty-four/seven had started to decrease, I had begun to look into putting together my own advertising consultancy firm. My campaign for him had brought in tons of new clients, and the Charleston offices were just one of three different sites I had all over the South. I was due to be profiled in Forbes next week, and I still kept having to pinch myself to make sure that this was all really happening.
“Ally?” Hunter said. “Earth to Ally, come in, Ally, come in.”
I came back down from the clouds with a start. “Sorry, you were saying?”
“I was saying,” Hunter said with an indulgent smile, “that I happened to have booked a room in this hotel. If after you finish your drink you find yourself feeling a bit too tired to drive, might I invite you up just in case you’re interested in a…retry?”
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