Even though he’s only been with the Mavericks organization for one season and technically could become a free agent next summer, Parsons intends to be in Dallas for the long term. He seems genuinely excited to play on a team where “a lot of guys have chips on their shoulders”—a predicament that Dallas found itself in, very notably, after its failed bid to land DeAndre Jordan.

When Parsons orders drinks for the table, he orders a round of double, possibly triple, vodka Red Bulls. “I like to party,” he says, which is a considerable understatement. We meet Matthew Chevallard, who created the shoe brand Del Toro, in the hotel lobby, and together they take a photo for Instagram. A representative for the shoe brand, Parsons is no longer shirtless, wearing a white dress shirt and an air tie underneath his dinner jacket, and slippers with no socks. He points out his left ankle is actually much fatter than his right.

The two met at All-Star Weekend several years ago and have become “close friends.” Parsons prefers to call his off-the-court pursuits collaborations among friends instead of business relationships, which is perhaps appropriate for someone who has been designated the NBA’s lockdown social recruiter. “I’m a people person,” Parsons says. “I’m the youngest of four boys. I’ve never been shy. I’ve always been outgoing and the most likable person in the room.”

“[DeAndre Jordan is] one of the best young centers in the NBA, and I wanted to play with him. He could have made us great. But he screwed us over.”

While rules exist in the NBA that prevent teams from contacting or speaking about upcoming free agents, the fraternizing between players has become an unspoken advantage for those who, like Parsons, choose to run in many circles. Without prompting, he starts listing off the free-agents list for 2016, including fellow Gators alumni Joakim Noah and Al Horford. He points out that Kevin Durant is now with his former college coach, Billy Donovan, listing off another connection that he has. “It’ll be an interesting summer next year,” says Parsons, who, though he once thought about a post-NBA career in broadcasting, now wants to be a general manager when he retires. “I’m locked in, man. I want championships.”

Parsons spent parts of fashion week hanging out with Blake Griffin, whom he calls his best friend in the league. The two have known each other since they were 12. Unprompted, Parsons wonders out loud: “He has a player option in a couple of years, right?”

The friendship is a bit of a strange dynamic considering Parsons and Mavericks owner Mark Cuban put together a full-court press to recruit DeAndre Jordan, a teammate of Griffin's, to leave the Clippers and join the Mavericks. Playing his role as chief of recruiting, Parsons, who had knee surgery earlier this summer, flew himself to Los Angeles, found out who Jordan was working out with, and started working out with that person during his rehab. He had dinner with Jordan for five straight nights at one point. The recruiting process was described elsewhere as an “Entourage-style romp” through the hottest clubs and most exclusive nightspots in Los Angeles and Houston. Jordan verbally committed but later reneged and returned to the Clippers. There was an emoji war on Twitter, and the whole thing became an event of its own for NBA free agency, which already exists as the season after the actual season. Parsons and Jordan have spoken several times since, although Parsons admits the friendship isn’t the same as it once was. “He didn’t do anything illegal. I’m not mad at him. At the end of the day, he’s a grown man and he’s entitled to do whatever he wants,” Parsons says. “He’s one of the best young centers in the NBA, and I wanted to play with him. He could have made us great. But he screwed us over.”

If his fling with Jordan was a reminder that mixing business and friendship can yield dangerous results, it hasn’t stopped Parsons from developing a close relationship with Cuban, his boss, a dynamic not often seen between player and owner. The two first met during All-Star Weekend in Houston in 2013. “We just hit it off,” Parsons says. “He’s an awesome guy. He’s outgoing and very hands-on. I thought he was the best owner in the NBA even when I was playing in Houston. He never settles, and I respect him for that. A lot of owners shy away from this type of relationship because they don’t want that uncomfortable feeling of crossing a boundary when they have to trade, cut, or amnesty a player. He doesn’t care. At the end of the day, he gains your trust, and if he has to make a business decision, you respect him for being open and honest. I’ll never find out I got traded on Twitter.”

The one downside of being close to Cuban? The long list of people who want to pitch Shark Tank ideas to Parsons. “Mostly apps.”

The two were photographed in a nightclub last summer when Parsons signed his offer sheet with the Mavericks. “He’s a rock star. When I go out with him, it’s always a circus,” Parsons says. As we order another round of vodka Red Bulls for the two of us, and I begin to question whether I could piggyback on his drink orders all night, I ask Parsons if Cuban—at the ripe age of 57—can keep up with him when they party in the off-season.