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“I’m back,” Trent announces as he enters my office. “Sorry for running out earlier. Duty called.”
We sat down an hour ago to go over what happened last night when he went to Axel Tribeca to meet Linny for dinner.
I sent him in my place because canceling altogether wasn’t an option after I realized I had to bail and after hearing about all the trouble Linny had gone to.
Julian Bishop, the owner of the Bishop Hotel chain, called me late yesterday afternoon to congratulate me on the upcoming launch of the vanilla vodka.
He told me that he was happy to offer the terrace free of charge for the intimate tasting party Rizon was having last night.
Our grandfathers were friends, which carried over to the two of us. We’re not close by any means, but when either of us asks a favor, the other is quick to help.
“As long as it’s business related, I have no problem with it or with the fact that you’re texting during this meeting,” I say as I point at his phone. “You’re texting, not gaming, right?”
He looks up, his fingers still tapping out a message on the screen. “I’m locking down an app. It’ll be released the same day as the vanilla vodka launch.”
“An app? What app?”
“The Rizon app. It’s going to be primarily user driven. Our customers will be able to pinpoint locations our products are served, upload their vodka cocktail recipes and pictures. That’s basic surface stuff. There’s a lot more to it.” He drops the phone into his pocket. “It was Linny’s idea. She mentioned it last night.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He takes a seat. “I reached out to a developer today. I told him I need a rush on it. He said he’d do it for the right price.”
The impulse is there to shut this down before it goes any further, but it’s a viable idea that will broaden our reach. Being outside the loop isn’t a place I’m familiar with, but I’ll defer to Trent on this, only because he’s invested enough in it that I know he’ll see it through.
“You trust the guy you’re hiring?” I scratch my brow.
He rubs his palm over his thigh. “He’s already signed all the standard forms. He’ll keep quiet, get the job done and cash his check.”
“Jot down all the app ideas in an email before you leave for the day and send it to me.”
“Will do.” He exhales. “I’m glad everything worked out last night.”
He knows better than to delve into my personal life. He wanted to meet at a coffee shop around the corner from my apartment after he was done at the impromptu tasting party. I turned him down.
He attempts to play the concerned friend, but that’s not who he is to me. He’s an employee who happened to overhear me talking to my attorney about my father once.
Since then, I’ve kept him close and paid him well, because I trust that he’ll keep quiet if his bank account is healthy.
He tugs his phone out of his pocket again. “I’ll send you the pictures I took at the Bishop Tribeca last night. There’s a couple in there that Linny took of the bar setup. We’ll need to work on lighting and bring in some greenery, but overall I think it’s got the look and feel we want for the launch party.”
I don’t react when I hear a string of chimes from my phone signaling the images he’s sending have arrived.
“Don’t forget to put that email together before you take off, Trent.”
He nods, his gaze still glued to his phone. “Will do. I’ll see you on Monday?”
“If you make it through the weekend.” I laugh as he pushes to his feet. “I heard you’re headed out of town to see your brother.”
He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. “My brother, his wife and their six kids. I hope to hell I live through the next two days.”
Grabbing my phone, I scroll through the pictures he sent as he walks out of my office. I don’t need a refresher on what the terrace at the Bishop Hotel looks like. I’ve been. Twice.
The first time it was for the wedding of a friend. The second time was a fundraising gala organized by one of the charities I support. I donated the vodka for the event and a sizable check.
I pause when I reach an image of Linny.
She’s smiling as she stands next to Trent. From the camera’s angle it’s obvious he’s the one who captured the shot.
