I’ve tried to explain to him, in many ways, I can create the best campaign for his company, as long as I have a vision of what he wants. He hasn’t budged. We’re also looking into buying a couple of small agencies in California to expand the company. I’m just not so sure if they have what I need.

“What a fucking day,” Devon complains as he enters my office. “We have a new neighbor.”

“Whatever,” I say, turning off my computer. “I’m about to sell you the company and retire.”

He huffs and shakes his head. “Do we have any leads with the winery?”

“He plans on adding a brewery, does that help?” I answer with another question and take a seat.

“Let’s take the night off,” he offers. “Tomorrow things will look better.”

I tap my fingers against the table and press my lips, looking at him. What can possibly change overnight that’ll make this shit any better?

“Yeah,” I say, “let’s grab dinner and have a couple of beers.”

There’s a saying: If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now. In this case, the bartender would have murdered me with his bare hands since I arrived.

“What is it with Tom tonight?” Devon asks. “He’s usually pretty friendly.”

His name is Thomas, not Tom, I want to correct him. Claire told me once her brother hated to be called anything but Thomas.

“You know him?” I ask confused.

This is the first time I’ve come to this sports bar. It opened a couple of months ago, but I hadn’t had the time to come and check it out. The place is inviting, and I dare say the owner’s sister designed the logo. That’s Claire’s style.

“Yeah, I come here often. It’s close to the office and my apartment,” he says. “Do you owe him money?”

“He’s probably confusing me with someone or has a crush on you,” I joke, risking my skin.

Thomas Solis doesn’t look like the guy who would take a joke from me. He hates my guts. But I’m not going to explain to Devon how I know the guy and that if he could, he’d cut my throat and serve my head on a silver platter to his sister.

“We should’ve gone somewhere else,” I offer. “This place seems crowded.”

“It’s crowded because the food is great and so are the drinks,” he says. “Do you know they have a distillery on the outskirts of town? ...No, wait, it’s a brewery.”

“There’s another bar like this in the suburbs?”

“No,” he answers. “The brewery is there, next to a farm. If you ever want fresh eggs, I have the address. Your mom would like it.”