11
Sam
Her acceptance of my offer had been, like all things with Tiff, thrown at me with a vehemence that rivaled forced political alliances.
With anyone else, I might have been surprised at the quick turnabout of events, suspicious even, but with Tiffany, I was becoming used to her unique brand of hotheaded fortitude.She dazzled like a solar flare, but once her mind was made up, she was practically immovable.
She was also, rather unfortunately, determined to disagree with me at every turn.
“I’m going to restyle the bar.Make it sleeker, more upmarket.”
“You don’t think the whole ‘everything and the kitchen sink’ look is upmarket?”she joked.
“Current market trends,” I ignored her groan, “show that dark and moody spaces are equated with exclusivity, especially in the service industry.”
She was once again draped over the chair opposite my desk, although today, she’d chosen to lay sideways, letting one leg hang over the arm while the other was tucked underneath.I couldn’t see how it was comfortable, but she was admiring her nails and looked positively bored.“That’s ridiculous.”
I pointed to the article in question.“It’s what the research says.”
Her head fell back.“So, we get to turn into another wanky cookie-cutter bar?Great.”
“And what would you propose?”
She swiveled, straightening in the chair, more engaged now.“I don’t have anything in mind, but damn, we should have our own voice.Make a statement.Say.Something.”
“With décor.”
“Yes.”Like it was obvious.
“Why do I get the sense you’re arguing with me for the sake of it?”
Instead of the smirk I’d been expecting, she looked hurt.“Wow, you really think a lot of me, huh?”
“Sorry.That was rude.”
She chewed her lip, looking hesitant.I wondered if I’d finally pushed her too far.I never spoke to staff this way, but then, I’d never worked with anyone like Tiffany before.And she’d never backed down from pushing me right back, always with a smirk or a wink or a smart comment.
Before I could say anything else, she seemed to return to herself, her tone back to its usual prickliness.“I’ll give you this.I’m not exactly married to the grandma chic we currently have going on, but that doesn’t mean I want to become a clone of every other hyped-up place that’s all about glitter and show.”
“You mean like the ones I’ve owned before.”
“If the shoe fits.”
I bit down a flare of indignation.I shouldn’t have to prove anything to her.“And I suppose it doesn’t matter to you that those ‘hyped up’ bars were extremely successful?”
She rolled her eyes.“Yes, I’ve heard all about your reputation, hot shot.I thought we’d already established it means jack shit out here.”
Yes, I’d been made aware of that already.Yesterday, a reporter had pushed me to respond to Pierce in print.But there was no way I was going to be baited into personal attacks.
This was getting nowhere fast.Why had I thought this was a good idea again?If she was just going to argue with me on every point, we weren’t going to achieve anything.If she could just give some ground … Well, I might die of shock first, but something certainly had to give if we were going to work together.It rankled me that it was likely going to have to be me, which was a first.With anyone else, collaboration was something I fostered, focused on.It drove innovation, and I enjoyed challenging pre-conceived notions with data-driven insights and a fresh perspective.
So, why was the idea of giving in to Tiffany such an issue for me?
And why did it fill me with as much of a thrill as it did fear?
Calling a truce, I turned my attention to the magazine in front of me.I slid it across the desk, tapping the image of the latest “bar to watch.”It was called Agenda and was highlighted as an example of “fresh, romantic, & modern” that “encouraged lively conversations and a return to personal interactions that was sorely lacking in today’s digital age.”
I didn’t have the faintest clue how any of that differed from any other bar, but it was apparently revolutionary, and they had made several references to the outfitting of the space.I knew it would be a good idea to visit and find out what the fuss was about.
