Rascal (Rascals Book 1)(9)

But it was also the last thing in the world I had time for right now. The bar was the priority. It needed to be a success, not just because we were depending on it financially, but all of us had something to prove—myself especially.

Which is why I needed to focus my attention on my to-do list instead of imagining how hot it might have been to fuck Alex against the very wall across from me. Because from the way she had reacted to my kiss in the ATM vestibule the other night, I could tell that she would be very, very receptive.

Ahem.

I dragged my attention back to the list. “We should probably scout out the neighborhood watering holes,” I spoke up. “Knowing our competition will allow us to better see what needs aren’t being filled and how best we can fill them.”

My mind was definitely focused on needs being filled (as well as other things) but it had absolutely nothing to do with the bar.

“I don’t think we’re going to have any problems on the weekend,” our finance guy-slash-business strategist Liam spoke up. “We got lucky with this location—tons of businesses within walking distance, but we’re the closest bar by far. But weekdays are always where a bar can make it or break it. We need to be busy all week. That means finding creative ways to get people to come in after work. Happy hour is great, but we should see if we can up the ante. Do something unique.”

He paused and looked around the room. Chase was still texting. Sawyer, the resident contractor/architect, let out a yawn. Dante hadn’t even shown up. And me? My mind was still doing dirty things back in that ATM vestibule.

Liam sighed.

“Maybe we should just call it a night.”

“Sorry, man,” Sawyer apologized. “I think we’re all just a little distracted.”

“I’m working,” Chase argued, holding up a hand but not looking up from his phone. “This is work.”

Liam rolled his eyes. The two of them could not have been more different, but that’s what made us all work. Where Liam was the strong and silent type, Chase was impulsive and charming.

“Are we at least on schedule with the build-out?” I asked Sawyer. Construction was his domain. Well, anything with a tool-kit. He had a studio making hand-crafted furniture, the kind hipsters ate up.

He nodded. “The bar looks great, just a few finishing details.”

“We’ll have our first signature ale ready for the opening,” Chase chimed in, before frowning at his phone. “Once I can get the recipe right.”

This time I was the one who rolled my eyes. Chase was probably one of the most chill people I knew—except when it came to alcohol. Then he was a savant. An obsessive savant. An annoying, obsessive savant. He had been talking about this signature ale of his for months now, but none of us had seen the results of all his labor.

“The mysterious ale.” Liam’s comment echoed my thoughts. “I think often of that ale. And how it doesn’t exist.”

“But it will!” Chase insisted.

Liam shook his head. “I’m going to head out.”

“I left some paperwork on the desk,” I tell them all. “I need it signed by tomorrow.”

He nodded. All five of us—Chase, Sawyer, Liam, Dante and myself—had an equal share of the bar, but I was the one who would be managing it. That meant I’d probably be living in that office for the first few months the bar was open.

Still, nothing could dampen my enthusiasm. We had talked about making this place a reality for so many years, and even though we were so close to opening, I still couldn’t believe that it was happening. I wasn’t even sure I would truly believe it until we started pulling a profit. Until we were a success.

The others headed out, leaving me alone with Chase. And his phone.

“I’m going to go check on that paperwork.” I pushed back from the table.

“Want me to bring me the latest brew from the back?” Chase asked.

“I suppose it’s too much to ask if it’s the ale,” I joked.

“It’s an IPA.” Chase gave me a look. “You know the ale is special.”

“So you’ve told me,” I reminded him. “So you’ve told all of us. Yet, we’ve seen no proof that this ale is anything more than just a dream.”

“It’s a dream like the bar was a dream,” Chase countered.

“So the ale is going to take five years, several hundreds of thousands of dollars, and possibly put all of us into crippling debt?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Chase responded. “But it will be worth it.”

I walked around the table, headed for my office, but before I could leave the room, Chase’s arm shot out, stopping me. For such a laid-back guy, he had pretty damn good reflexes.

“So.” He leaned back in his chair casually, his napkin apparently forgotten. “How’d it go with our hot neighbor?”

I should have known that Chase would have noticed Alex’s aforementioned hotness. I felt an unusual twinge of jealousy. It wasn’t something I was used to. Chase was my friend, basically my brother. I would take a bullet for him. So why was I getting angry at the thought of him checking out Alex, a girl I barely knew?

I tried to play it cool.

“Our neighbor?” I asked casually.

“She lives upstairs, doesn’t she?”