Figures

Having Max do the dishes would probably not end up well for either party. He couldn’t exactly describe himself as a hard worker, even within his own profession. Once again, that title fit his brother far more appropriately. It was almost starting to sound as if he had some inferiority complex towards Enzo, and he told himself time and time again that that wasn’t the case at all. He didn’t want to be like him. Ever.

Max snickered at her comment. Her look, complete with the pearly white flower in her hair, didn’t exactly scream ‘whiskey-drinker’, but when were stereotypes ever right? “I think it’s the flower,” he commented. Completely and utterly feminine. She might as well be ordering a sweet, white wine on the spot. His mouth turned into a half-grin when she mentioned she wasn’t from around here. “Now that’s interesting.” Her remark about the dishes made him smile once again, softly shaking his head before he started to walk into the direction of the more luxurious district. “Where are you actually from?” he proceeded to ask, honestly curious. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course.” He didn’t want to subject her to a crossfire of questions just yet.

How nice. She’d tried to look good for her date. Too bad the guy hadn’t exactly been what she expected. “I’m sure you look fine regardless of the flower,” Max commented. Still, it added a nice touch. It seemed youthful, sweet, and it somehow lessened the blow every time she made a harsh comment. You couldn’t really be mad at a face like that. Her date probably had no idea what he was missing out on.

Emilia seemed to pause for a few seconds when he asked where she was from. He didn’t expect an answer, but got one anyway. Closer to Falkreath. That sounded… vague. But he understood the hint: she didn’t want to disclose that information. “Exotic,” he said in a sarcastic tone. ‘Closer to Falkreath’ could be anywhere in Navarre, really. When she asked him whether he was from d’Auvignon, he shook his head. “No, but I visit a lot,” he answered. “I’m from the country. My family owns a couple of places throughout Navarre.” Although he had multiple mansions to call a home, he preferred spending most of his time elsewhere. After a walking for a while, he turned a corner, leading them towards one of the most prominent taverns in the city. “There we are,” he announced, before opening the door for her. “Ladies first.” Contrary to popular belief, he did have manners.

Max liked compliments, and he figured others did too. So, he often went out of his way to praise people on anything quality that stood out. Usually their appearance. He flashed her a smile when she thanked him for the compliment. “You’re welcome.” Sometimes you just had to keep it a little cocky.

“You could say that, yeah,” he replied. Rich was an understatement. The Bourbon family was filthy rich, spoilt, rotten, absolutely loaded. But of course, people never really appreciated that kind of bragging. Max tried to tone it down, to keep it humble. Her question made him shrug at first. Enjoying the family’s wealth was exactly what he did. While his eldest brother was working his ass off, Max was going out in an attempt to spend the money as fast as it came in. It was quite aggravating. “I like to think that I contribute to it,” he murmured. Formally, he worked for the family business, and every now and then he actually managed to convince a client of buying their product. “But I prefer spending it.” Something that had become painfully clear in the very first minute she met him.

Max grinned widely as he held open the door. “Impressed?” he asked in a joking tone. Because of course she would be impressed by him having basic human decency.

Max stepped in after her and was immediately greeted by the faint smell of his family’s whiskey. He could recognize the scent anywhere by now. The stuff was hard to avoid, especially in Navarre. The bar itself was carved out of tobacco oak trees, just like the serving tables. The counters were dressed in black marble. Emilia mentioned that this wasn’t like any of the places she usually went to, which brought a smile on his face. “Nothing wrong with trying something new,” he suggested. Maybe she liked it here, maybe she didn’t. He surely wasn’t opposed to taking her here again, if she wanted to. They were quickly offered a table and a waiter came up to them almost immediately. Of course, he turned towards Emilia first, informing her of all the sweet wines that were currently present. “I think the lady actually would like a glass of whiskey,” Max said, eyeing Emilia for a bit. The waiter just looked at her in mild surprise. Most ladies didn’t drink whiskey, after all.

Emilia didn’t seem to mind trying new things, just like he did. It was always good to meet other adventurous people. He wasn’t exactly fond of people who chose to spend their entire life in the same place, doing the same things. It seemed like a dreadful existence. He’d rather travel the world, and maybe he’d just found someone who could accompany him every now and again. If she was even interested in such a thing, of course.

The waiter needed a second to adjust to the fact that a woman was ordering whiskey, but he nodded. Of course, the next question the waiter asked was whether they wanted Bourbon whiskey. The question was accompanied with a wink, since the servant knew exactly who he was. “Sure, fine,” Max murmured. The waiter left the table and came back shortly with two crystal glasses, filled with exactly two fingers worth of Bourbon whiskey. Max reached for his glass and looked up at Emilia with a grin. “Let’s see how well you can handle your liquor.” Whiskey wasn’t exactly easy to bear.

The higher ranks of society weren’t exactly concerned with trying to avoid prejudice. The waiter had even looked rather offended for a mere second. Women drinking whiskey, absolutely outrageous. Max usually didn’t put a lot of thought in matters like these, but he was currently finding out he quite enjoyed the way Emilia was challenging the status quo. She dressed feminine, yet she acted assertive. She had quite the mouth on her, too. It was quite amusing, to be honest.

With whiskey, it wouldn’t take long for anyone to get a little tipsy. Max wasn’t exactly sure if that was what he was aiming for today, though. He gripped the glass and held it up to his mouth, letting a little bit of the liquid slide in. He swirled it around in his mouth for a bit, finding the hidden tones of rye and cinnamon. He could even taste the barrels of oak wood the whiskey had matured in. After that, he swallowed, feeling the all-familiar burn rage down his throat. With a soft clink, his glass ended back up on the table. Right then, Emilia asked him what his family did for a living. A humble smile appeared on his face. “This, actually,” he said, holding up the glass for a second. “My family makes whiskey. We have several distilleries throughout the country.” He leaned forward a little, placing his forearms on the table. “What do you think?” The Bourbons prided themselves on their high-quality liquor. That’s why it would be greatly amusing if she absolutely hated it.

Technically, it wasn’t his family who made the whiskey at all. They simply controlled the company. The actual creation of the liquor was left to a variety of underpaid employees that were stuffed away in the various distilleries across Navarre. The Bourbon family just handled the financials and business side of things. Actually, the past three years it seemed like Enzo had been doing most of the work single-handedly, with occasional help from his siblings. They called it a family business nonetheless.

When he asked her opinion on the whiskey, she took another sip for good measure. Max watched her in quiet anticipation. The corner of his mouth started to curl upwards as she was going to say that it tasted shitty. It was a joke, however, and she quickly let him know she liked it. “Great,” he said with a small nod. At least she had good taste, then. Emilia asked about his part, which was a question that was easily answered. “Managing the accounts. I close new deals and make sure the current clients are happy with what they’re getting,” he told her. Formally, that was his role within the company. His actual input, however, left something to be desired.