Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“See?” Bruce looks plaintively at Kevin, who’s laughing at our misfortune. “Nothing exciting ever happens to us.”
“I can cut the brake line to one of the cars and not tell you which one,” Kevin answers, deadpan.
Tucker barks out a sharp laugh.
“Oh, stop it.” Bruce shoves Kevin’s arm. “You couldn’t live without me.” Then to me, “I get it, sweetie. Look how he treats me.”
During the main course, Bruce, now a few glasses into what tastes like very expensive wine, starts grilling us. He’s clearly the nosier, more outgoing one in the relationship, while Kevin seems to prefer sitting back and letting his partner carry most of the conversation. They make an interesting couple.
“So who did we let into our house?” Bruce asks, swirling his glass while narrowing his eyes at me. “For all we know, we’re enjoying a lovely meal with those kids from Natural Born Killers.”
“Like we’ve got the Di Laurentises in a pile of corpses in the deep freezer?”
“That was deliciously specific,” Bruce says, grinning at me. He’s got a dazzling white smile, and he looks much less douchey when he’s wearing clothes.
“Ignore him,” Kevin says. “He’s desperate for someone to want him dead.”
“I’m nosy. So shoot me.” Bruce glances at Tucker. “So what do you do for a living, Tuck? My guess, judging by that physique? Athlete.”
“Nah.” Tucker shrugs. “Dean and I played hockey together in college, but now I run a couple bars in Boston.”
He proceeds to tell the men about his business. How the first Tucker’s Bar that he opened right out of college had become a popular neighborhood hangout that attracted a lot of pro athletes. With its success came the second location, which is doing even better. Bruce looks it up on Instagram, much to the embarrassment of Kevin, who frowns at his partner for pulling out his phone in the middle of dinner.
“Your content and marketing are impressive,” Bruce marvels. “You do this all yourself?”
“Somewhat. I hired a couple locals that do video and professional photography for us. In-house staff run our socials. Honestly, a lot of good friends helped us out in the beginning.” He shrugs. “A couple of my best friends play for the Bruins, so they talked up the bar, and now we’ve got some famous clientele popping by.”
Bruce looks highly impressed. “You have plans beyond the bars, or is this franchise the baby?”
“He has a ton of ideas,” I chime in. “He’s nowhere near done yet.”
“Definitely thinking of opening more bars in other cities. But…I get bored,” Tucker admits.
Frowning, I glance over at him. “You’re bored with the bars?” This is the first I’m hearing of it.
“No. I mean, sometimes.” He shrugs, reaching for his wine. “It’s the double-edged sword of a great staff and an excellent general manager. The bars run without me, and I end up with too much free time on my hands. Gets me antsy.”
I gaze down at my plate, hoping it’ll shield my expression, whatever it may be. I’m not quite sure how I feel hearing that Tuck’s not enjoying his business. I hadn’t gotten any sense he felt unfulfilled in his job. Not a single hint of it. I always make a point to ask him about work, and he always just smiles and says it’s all good.
“I hear ya,” Bruce tells Tuck, nodding. “I’m the same way. Full of ideas. Always on the go.”
“Damn man can’t sit still,” Kevin agrees with a wry smile. “Such is the life of a fitness guru, I suppose.”
“Is that what you do?” I ask Bruce, forcing myself to focus on our new friends and not my husband’s apparent unhappiness. “I was wondering after seeing you out there with your camera.”
As Tuck and I grill him on the ins and outs of being an “influencer,” we discover that there’s a lot more to the job. Along with having millions of followers across all his social media accounts and making a fortune from sponsored posts, Bruce also works as a personal trainer for an elite clientele.
“He trains two New York Congresswomen and one former president,” Kevin boasts, clearly proud of his partner. “Can’t say who the prez is, but feel free to guess.”
Tucker and I are suitably impressed.
When Bruce turns his cross-examination on me and I mention I just graduated from law school, I discover that Kevin is also a lawyer. Not only that, but a senior partner at a top-three firm in New York.
“We practice criminal law,” Kevin tells me. “My section, we exclusively handle wrongful conviction cases. Mostly pro bono work.”
I lean forward. “See, that’s fascinating. I’ve known since I started law school I wanted to work in criminal law. Something like that must be incredibly satisfying.”
“It’s more disappointment than not, if I’m being honest. We have a thorough vetting process, only taking cases we sincerely believe we can prove should be overturned. There’s a high bar, however. Courts are often reluctant. Every defeat, though, motivates us to try harder on the next one. Each case is long and arduous, but yes, it’s certainly rewarding.” He smiles at me. “I imagine a young woman like yourself is quite familiar with hard work. I can’t even fathom raising a child while in law school. I barely made it through Harvard myself without having a nervous breakdown, and that was child-free.”