“Regretting last night?”
“Never,” I say with a groan and drop my head down on the table. My pride won’t let me speak the truth we can both see.
“Tough crowd,” he teases, and I sit back up.
“I told—”
“Don’t you dare say I told you so,” I cut him off with a glower. He raises his hands in appeasement, and his eyes crinkle with amusement.
He did, though. Last night, when I was pounding down those tequila shots with Katya and Tatiana well past midnight, he did tell us we’d live to regret it.
Look at me now.
“So,” he says, reaching for some eggs. “I was thinking, if you’re free tomorrow, I could show you what we do.”
“What do you do?” I sit up straighter, curious.
“You mentioned you’d like to learn more about our operations.” He looks right at me. Excited now, I nod enthusiastically.
“I was thinking I could take you to one of my establishments tomorrow, if you’d be keen.”
My heart soars with joy. He remembers what I said, and not only that, helistenedand is following up. My heart softens at the sight of him, and I break into the biggest smile.
“I’d love that, Agafon.”
***
When we talk into Thaw, Agafon’s flagship bar, I feel like I’ve stepped into a different world altogether. In the centre, there’s a circular stage where a live Jazz band performs under the spotlight. The music seeps through my bones, instantly lifting my spirit. Patrons are scattered around the band, dancing and singing along.
I can’t help but gape at the stunning interiors: the large chandeliers sweeping down from the ceiling, the gilded backdrop featuring a floor-to-ceiling bar shimmering with bottles, the eclectic wallpaper custom-made to size, the plush, low-lying leather sofas, andso much space.
So much space to walk, to dance, to talk. It feels like a private living room. Everything looks expensive. Even theairsmells fresh, like it’s been bottled up from an island somewhere and transported here.
“Wow,” I gasp, taking a full circle to look over everything again.
Beside me, Agafon grins and speaks loud enough for me to hear. “You like?”
“I love!” I murmur, turning to meet his gaze.
“This was the first bar Uncle Charlie started,” he tells me. “We now have three others across the city that follow this model and twenty-seven in national and international territories. Nextyear, we’re going to open our flagship in Singapore. That’ll be our entry into Asia.”
“It's... impressive,” I say, my eyes darting to the busy floor where waiters and waitresses swift around like bees. There are so many people, and unlike at other bars, all the customers look pleased with the service.
“How many staff members do you have?” I ask.
“What?” Agafon bellows, bending lower to hear me. I put my lips close to his ear, so close that they brush against him. He stiffens, and so do I; the contact heats the air between us. He pulls back, his eyes searching mine, and then leans back in again.
I place my hand on his shoulder to keep my balance and ask. “How many staff members do you have?”
“Oh.” He nods. “Not many. Our servers are six.”
“Six servers?” I raise my brows. “There’s like over a hundred people here.”
“Only fifty tonight,” Agafon winks. “It’s a weekday? We can house four hundred.”
“That’s insane.” I snap my attention back to the crowd.
Agafon leads me to a table and we sit. I wait for him to motion to a server, but to my surprise, he pulls out an iPad from beneath his table. I then realize each table has one.
