Instead, I do my best to focus on the important parts. I have a good job, a great son, and friends who seek me out at my place of employment so I can at least be part of the conversation, even if it’s in between customers. It isn’t a girl’s night, but things could be worse than making money while chatting with my friends.
NINE
Paul
Looking around the room, I try to envision the changes I want to make to this place. Obviously, we need a few upgrades and a solid coat of paint. Past that, I’m still kind of stumped.
The biggest and most pressing issue is what to do about the stage. Do I keep it or get rid of it? I’ve never actually seen live music in this place, not even before I took over, and I’m not sure where I would begin if I decided to make that happen. Do I even want to open that can of worms? It sounds like a lot of coordination and one more project for me to have to tackle. I don’t know if I have it in me at this point. The only thing I do know is I need to make some changes pretty soon.
Kiersten walks up. I don’t have to see her to know. I can smell her shampoo before I see her. Damn she smells good. “Hey, boss. Whatcha doing?”
It’s just us tonight. Tammy is taking advantage of the fact that both she and her husband are off and have a date night planned. She’s been talking about it non-stop for the last couple of days. I’m glad the timing worked out for them.
I’m also glad she isn’t here to interrupt my thoughts. I’ve talked about renovations before but Tammy always says the same thing—“Don’t fix what ain’t broke.”
Unfortunately, I may be the one who’s broke if I don’t figure something out.
“Trying to decide what kind of vibe I want in here.”
“Meaning?”
“The stage.” I point at the offending area and let out a deep sigh.
“Ah.” She crosses her arms and pops out her hip. I try hard not to notice how sexy the pose makes her look and keep myself focused on the task at hand. “The stage that’s being used for storage.”
I wish she were wrong, but she’s not. It’s sort of ended up being a “catch all” for oversized boxes and various equipment we don’t need right now, but probably will. “Most of that stuff was cleared out of the apartment in the back. I meant to get rid of it...”
“But there are only so many hours in the day to get everything done.”
“Yep. And I’m honestly not sure if we’ll need any of it. Well, except for the obvious.”
Placing her hands on her hips, Kiersten gets a determined look on her face. “Let’s talk this out then. You’ve mentioned renovations before. What do you want to do?”
That’s the biggest question of them all. “I haven’t really decided. I’d like to cater to a more upscale clientele than we’ve got now.”
Kiersten pokes my arm playfully. “Dwayne isn’t high end enough for you?”
I can’t help it, I laugh. She puts me at ease in a way no one else does. Even just talking through my thoughts so I can process them is much more helpful than she knows.
“Dwayne is like the mascot. He’s not going anywhere.”
“You cemented that fact when you put up that dartboard,” she banters. This is what it’s always like between us—easy conversation and smart quips. I enjoy working with her more than I should.
I enjoy jacking off to thoughts of her more than I should, too. That is a secret that will go with me to the grave.
I run my hand down my face and chuckle. “I did, didn’t I? At least I know we’ll have one regular customer. If I can’t figure out a way to bring a new demographic in here, I may as well leave things as they are. Ideally, I’d like to cater to the sports teams in the area. Jaxon mentioned liking that we’re kind of a hole-in-the-wall type place where he didn’t have to worry about football fans or reporters. That’s why they chose it for the reception. It got me thinking that something like that could be an option.”
“That is a great idea,” she says with no hesitation whatsoever.
“I thought so. If I can figure out how to market to the sports teams in the area. And get this place up to snuff. No use spending the money if we don’t get anything out of it.”
Kiersten scoffs. “That is a terrible thing to say. Do you want to know what I think? What changes could be made to bring in that demographic?”
“Yes, please.” I really mean it. Maybe her perspective will help fix my own. A decorator I am not.
“Follow me,” she says with a wave of her hand.
Like the good boy I am, I do.
“This right here.” Kiersten pats her hand on the railing that encloses the dance floor. “What is the purpose of this?”
“I have no idea. Although most people use it to lean on while they watch others dance. I suppose it’s nice that it’s wide enough to set down your drink.”
Kiersten purses her lips. “Well, that’s the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard.”
I bark out a laugh. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly how many times have you seen people dance in here?”
“You did the other night.”
A blush creeps up her face. When things are slow, which is almost always, she takes a minute to go shimmy on the dance floor. The few regular patrons we have seem to love when she makes them partner up with her. While I’m glad they’re happy, part of me hates it. Kiersten just comes alive on that dance floor, her smile and laughter uncontrollable from exhilaration. Whenever she dances, everyone around her stops what they’re doing to watch her and I find myself irritated. I want to be the only one dancing with her, the only one watching her move to the music. But instead, I have to contain myself behind the bar watching with everyone else.
Kiersten licks her lips and clears her throat. “Well, yes. Besides then. When is anyone other than me dancing?”
“The reception is the only time I can think of.”
“Exactly,” she says like it’s the obvious answer. Which it is but I’m not sure what she’s getting at quite yet. “You say you want this place to be more of a premier bar, but it’s got this funky, old-school country-western vibe to it. Like this should be a dance hall and have live music every night for a bunch of seventy-year-olds to hang out.”
“Yeah, that’s not what I’m going for. What do you suggest?”
“First things first.” Her eyes brighten as she looks around the room and I can practically see the ideas as they hit her. I’m not sure which is more interesting—hearing what she has to say or watching her in her element. “Take down the railing. There’s no reason for it and it’s ugly. Once it’s gone, we can fill in all this space with more tables and chairs, kind of make everything spread out a little bit. Maybe get some new, updated furniture.”
Kiersten walks toward the stage and begins inspecting it. “Is this even the original design? It looks like it was extended at some point.”
Looking at where she’s pointing, I see exactly what she means. The joints don’t fit together quite right and the wear on the different parts is significantly different.
“You’re right. Think we should go back to the old design?”