There are at least a dozen guys in this place day in and day out. Construction is practically finished with the exception of some of the plumbing that needs updating and the same goes for the wiring.
It’s eating up a good chunk of the money I set aside for this part of our business. I love the brewery, but it better pay me back. Between the steel countertop and the gray slab of marble with the waterfall edge, there’s no doubt we’d save money on the steel that Griffin keeps going on about.
“You like the steel look or you like the price tag?” I call out to where he’s seated in the booth and that gets his attention.
“If I say both, will you know I’m lying?” he asks and a huff of a laugh leaves me.
The steel may be economical, but the vision in my head, the shared dream of this bar … it calls for a pricier aesthetic.
Exhaling and heading to the cooler, I decide we can look at the numbers again. We can push the online retail and the partnerships we have lined up. A little more time may not be so bad. It’ll be better than opening a subpar bar.
With a beer in hand, the water beads dripping down to my wrist, I sit across from Griffin. I don’t expect him to stop working when I ask him a question; he never stops working if that laptop is open.
“Who the hell is Robert Barnes?” My swig is short because of the look Griffin gives me. It’s a cautious gaze behind his glasses.
“The guy we have a meeting with?”
“The guy who happens to be Magnolia’s ex,” I say, my response immediate and firm.
“That girl’s gotten to you,” is all he says and then he’s back at it.
A moment passes and then another as I read through our texts.
She likes kissing me too. Just reading that sends a warmth through me. “Yeah, she’s gotten to me,” I admit to him and take another swig. This new batch is going to be a bestseller. Smooth with a hint of citrus. Not too bad on the calories. We created the batch for our female clientele and I would bet good money that this is the one the taste testers pick.
My mind isn’t even on Magnolia anymore. I’m too consumed with all of the dollar signs and work I see when I take in each space of what will be our bar. Until Griffin asks, “I thought you didn’t want to know?”
“What do you mean?” I don’t like the way he asked that question and I’m sure he can tell that from my tone and the pinched expression marring my face.
“You said you didn’t want to know the gossip and rumors and all that?” Even though his statement is somewhat accusatory, it’s still voiced as a question.
The glass bottom of the brown bottle in my hand thuds on the plywood tabletop. “What do you know that I don’t?” There’s a stillness around us and I don’t like it. “You said he’s an ex, still harboring feelings. You said there was drama—”
“And you said you didn’t care,” Griffin butts in, closing the laptop and leaving the booth in favor of the cooler closer to the bar. “Which is good.” His last statement catches me off guard. I even flinch, which only makes him continue.
“You talked about her nonstop years ago.”
“I was just asking if you saw her after I left.”
“Yeah, I remember. Your big dumb puppy dog pout wasn’t fooling anyone.” His sigh is full of frustration. “She’s the one you wanted a chance with and now you’re here; she’s here. It’s one hell of a coincidence.”
“What is your point?”
“That you should go for her and give it your best shot. You’re holding back and it’s pissing me off.”
“Well damn,” I comment, genuinely shocked.
“I’m sorry, but I think she’d be good for you and I think you need to … I don’t know, bro. I don’t know what you need but I’m pretty sure it involves her.”
“So why are you yelling at me for thinking about her?
“Because you don’t want to know the details. The details matter.”
My gaze follows him. “What if I change my mind? What if I want to know everything there is to know about her?” Adrenaline kicks in, forcing my pulse to race a little harder. I know Magnolia, although she’s still Rose in my mind, is hiding something. She barely talks about herself when we’re together, I have to pry every little detail out of her in between our heated kisses …
“You know anything about her daughter?” I ask him. I haven’t met her and I don’t know how to even go about bringing it up. “I’ve never dated someone with a kid. If I send Magnolia flowers, should I send a small bouquet for her kid too?” I was thinking about doing just that. And then I thought it might cross a line since she hasn’t brought up meeting her. I don’t want to ignore her, though. That seems … dickish.
“What did she tell you?” Griffin asks, and it’s surprising that he doesn’t get back to work. A prick travels up the back of my neck at how serious he seems right now. From the stern expression to the way his hands are clasped in front of him.
“Her name’s Bridget.”
“She didn’t tell you how old she is?” he asks and my pulse slows down just a tad when I shake my head. “She should be about three right now … a little older than three. You said you and Magnolia hooked up about four years ago?” I let the words sink in, and then the reality hits me.
There’s no fucking way. My next question comes out rough and I have to clear my throat to repeat it. “When’s her birthday?”
“Do I really need to tell you for you to put the pieces together?” Griffin asks.
Oh fuck.
Magnolia
“This graph is not my favorite thing in the world right now.” My comment is reserved for the soda can in my hand. I click, click and drop the link to it in the email, but I don’t send it yet. Instead I lean back, have a sip of my soda and note the downward trend.
It’s in direct correlation with the headline of Mandy’s email: Why are sales down?
The prints and even originals have dropped in sales recently and she wants to know why and what to do moving forward. Typing out my answer, I refer to the graph. Specifically, the last time we had new material to share on social media and update on the ad listings. We’ve got to keep it fresh and new with the products we’re promoting and the bottom line is, we haven’t gotten in a new artist or line for over a month now, so it makes sense that sales have declined in the last week and a half.
I’m confident in the explanation, but still, I grimace reading my response. I finish the drink and set the empty aluminum can on the end table before typing away with an update on the upcoming gala.
It’s all set. Everything is arranged. We could have an additional artist and drive someone new and upcoming for publicity.
Art never goes stale, but one thing is more important when it comes to marketing. Everyone loves the newest and even more than that … a sale. Bring them in with the new, hook them with the sale.
Nerves run through me, wracking my body as I hit send. It’s nearly nine and I’ve been working on this data analysis spreadsheet for five hours now. I’m so exhausted I could fall asleep right here. Between preschool, the list Mandy gave me to execute, and coming up with a solution to this very real problem, I have run myself into the ground this past week. More than that, I’m anxious that Mandy isn’t going to agree or want to go with any of the new artists I recommended.