The machines whir as I walk by them, inspecting them like soldiers in a row. Gleaming massive, silver canisters, my pride and joy, churning my latest brain children.

“How you doing today, Betty?” I lay a hand on the second machine, rubbing it like a genie’s lamp.

“You know they can’t actually hear you, right?” The snarky voice comes from the doorway.

Leaning against it is Alice, my business partner slash sommelier slash therapist slash savior. When I decided to forge out on my own and start a business, much to the dismay of my family, I’d bumped into the tattooed, tough-talking woman in front of me, and we’d hit it off. She’d haunted the DC foodie scene for years, working in bars and eateries. She knew her shit, knew the ins and outs of what tasted good, what marketing sold, what we needed to do to get our business out to the masses. With my business degree, good-boy attitude and determination, we made quite a team.

I take in her hair, a shade of deep purple this week, and smirk. “It’s the secret to our success, so don’t knock it.”

“And here I was, thinking I was the special sauce to this business. Hey, the new pinots are in from California, and they’re fucking delicious.” She cracks her knuckles, her nose piercing glinting as she walks into what we call “the kitchen.”

Our office is a small building on the outskirts of the city, nice enough that it doesn’t get broken in to, but cheap enough that it takes me forty-five minutes to get out here in traffic. The perimeter is fenced under a key code so we can keep the trucks here overnight, and all of our operations are handled under one roof.

“Taste test tonight, then? Tell Jana and we’ll set up the conference room.”

Taste test was code word for “let’s drink all of the new stock to quote unquote, see how it would fit into recipes we’d been dreaming up.” It was key for business, but it also gave us an excuse to kick back a little as an office. Along with Alice, we had a part time receptionist and bookkeeper, Jana, and two college students turned drivers who were with us most of the year, Ben and Freddie. Other than the five of us, we had rotating temp drivers that I’d come to trust and worked with a time or two if we were in a jam.

“Got it, how did the drive go? Sorry you had to drive the truck, Manny just couldn’t fill in today.” Alice walks into the hall and I follow, bypassing the three office doors until I reach the large conference room at the end of the building.

“Eh, it’s no big deal. Plus, I got a girl’s number.” I give her a charming smile; the one I know she’ll roll her eyes at.

She smiles that shit-eating grin, the one that makes me nervous. “I got a girl’s number too, and I bet mine’s hotter than yours.”

As well as being a kickass business partner, Alice is also a player. She’s one of the only people, man or woman, I know that has a rotating schedule of sexy, single women climbing in and out of her bed. I’d almost admire her if she hadn’t stolen girls right out from under my nose numerous times.

“I don’t think so, this one … she’s gorgeous.” I think of Samantha’s face, the mystery lurking beneath the mommy facade.

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time you got a girl’s number in the truck?” She raises a dark eyebrow at me.

I cringe at the blond who’d keyed one of the trucks after I did her in it and never called her again. My conscience shudders and guilt roils in my gut. “Well, this one is a little different.”

“Are you blushing, dude? Wowwwww. Who is she?” Alice pushes my shoulder.

I set up the conference table for a tasting, with the mini-wine glasses, spit buckets, plates for fudge and cheese. “She’s a woman, a grown-ass woman. And that’s all you need to know for now.”

Alice stops, like a frozen caricature of herself. “Who are you and what have you done with Jake Brady? Damn, I think I need to meet her.”

I laugh, brushing her off. But in all honesty, since I saw Samantha this afternoon in that cul-de-sac, all I’ve been thinking about is using the number that she gave me. And typically, I’m not the type to chase a girl. Sure, I’ve picked up my fair share, more than, and we have a fling and it’s sexy and fun … but that’s usually it. If any of them had ever introduced me to their kid, I’d have hightailed it the other way. If a woman snubbed me years ago, only to not act too interested, or not even know my name, when I saw her again … I would have turned and hooked the closest ten with a mini-skirt on. And that sounds shallow, but I’ve never felt like pursuing anyone.

Until now, I guess. I hadn’t gone after her at college all those years ago, and I was not dumb enough to ignore fate knocking on my door. That sounded so cliché, but then again, I’d admitted that I liked flowering trees not too long ago so I was surprising myself in all kinds of ways these day.

“Let’s get to it.” Jana came in rubbing her hands together. “I’ve got two hours before I have to go home and play wife and mom, and I plan to do that with at least a great buzz, so show me the money.”

Her husband was an ear, nose and throat doctor who worked long hours, and she had two little boys at home who were cute, but a handful. I’d only babysat them once, but after I’d slept for about three days I was so exhausted.

“Are we waiting for the drivers?” I asked, not knowing whether to put out more supplies.

“Screw that.” Alice grabbed the farm fresh cheese and homemade fudge from the fridge. “Those newbs don’t even know a Pinot from a pineapple. More wine for us, and plus, I don’t need to fraternize with children today.”

Jana laughs and takes a seat, pouring herself a proper tasting size out of one the bottles lined up on the table. Alice and I sat down on the other side of the table, taking glasses and pouring for ourselves. We sip in silence for awhile, the sun setting outside the windows.

“Yuck …” Alice spits into one of the stainless steel containers. “Tastes like moldy vagina.”

Jana lets out a sharp laugh and her cheeks go pink, our kind of humor a little crude for her still.

“That’s the worst kind of vagina.” I shake my head in mock dismay.

“No, the worst kind is no kind, and you my friend are in a dry spell. I know it, just by the look in your eyes.” Alice takes a sip of a new wine, and writes down something about the notes.

While she’s a vulgar jokester, her mind for alcohol and marketing is whip sharp, and I’m a lucky guy for her to have found me when this idea sparked in my head.

And she’s also a mind reader, because I haven’t told her about my lack of dates or female company lately. “What are you, the relationship whisperer?”

Jana, a little tipsy and not as experienced in holding her liquor, giggles. “It’s like she can look into your soul and tell that you haven’t gotten laid in a while. Quick Alice, tell me if my husband is going to give me a real Fifty Shades experience!”

“It is decidedly so.” Her purple locks shake as she nods her head and moves on to the next bottle.

“The magic eight ball of pussy and dick, everyone.” I sigh, leaning back in my chair.

“Just let me know if you’d like me to work my magic. I don’t like to see any genital go hungry.” She bows her head like she needs to pray for me.

This was the perfect way to end the night, with my feet up drinking good wine and working on my business. The only thing that would make it better is using the number that was burning a hole in my pocket.

But I was going to bide my time, and I needed a clear head when I finally reached out to Samantha.

So for now, I would let my imagination wander into creation land, thinking up flavors and new possibilities.