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“You ready for it?” she asks.
“Absolutely,” I say, since that seems like the right answer, even though I feel a little disconnected. Probably because I’ve been chasing this so long. I’ve given Celeste all I can. I marketed the hell out of Special Edition. I’ve proven I can run a successful bar here. I’m not sure what else I can do.
“Let me know. Because maybe you’ll promote me from assistant manager to manager if it all works out,” she says, bold and straightforward.
Huh. That’s not a bad idea. I hadn’t given it much thought, but she’s onto something. “Maybe I will,” I say when Russ arrives. The regular customer parks himself on a stool, saying hello and diving right into hockey talk.
As I pour him his regular brew, we shoot the breeze about how the Golden State Foxes are shaping up two months into the season. Carter and Monroe amble in and grab seats at the bar too.
I excuse myself from Russ, and head over to say hi to my friends. “Always looking for a free drink,” I deadpan.
“Free?” Monroe asks, perking up. “Now we get drinks for free?”
“This is news to me,” Carter seconds. “But I’ll take two then.”
I roll my eyes as I set down a pair of coasters. “What’ll it be?”
They order their usual, so I pour a scotch for Monroe, and a pale ale for Carter. When I hand them their drinks, Monroe lifts his glass, then says, “To tomorrow night.”
I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”
“You mentioned this morning on our run that it’s your real date with your wife. Does that mean you’ve figured out what to do at the end of the year?”
Now that’s an excellent question. One I’ve put a lot of thought into.
Carter leans forward. “We’re all ears.”
I draw a deep, fueling breath. “I think so. When we finish Special Edition, I’m going to let her know I want to keep up this whole…real thing.”
Monroe clinks with Carter, then toasts to me. “Good for you for making a decision. Now stick to it.”
“I intend to,” I say, resolute and so damn ready.
The next day, I’m dressed for my date early, since I want to give Elodie time at the house to get ready and do the whole girl thing with, well, the girls. Plus, Celeste moved our meeting back to six.
I head down Chestnut Street in the Marina, making my way to her office, using the time to reconnect with the location I want. Reminding myself of what I want to do at the potential upscale Sticks and Stones with its brick facade, bright green door, and large windows.
As I stare into the glass, I picture my plans. My vision. What I’ve been pitching Celeste. And sure, I can see it all clearly.
With that in mind, I head inside. Just like she was the first time, Celeste’s waiting for me, wearing a black pantsuit again, with her tight bun.
“Hello, Mr. Archer. Good to see you,” she says, then nods to her office.
“Good to see you,” I say, antsy to get this meeting over with.
She gestures to a chair. I sit. She moves behind the desk.
“Thank you again for the ideas you shared. The decor, and the bocce ball, and the added games are smart. So is the upscale menu. It’s a very good plan.” She sounds exactly like she did that night at Special Edition—removed, robotic. Then she pauses, takes a breath that’s not at all robotic. That’s far too easy to read. It doesn’t take a genius to know what her answer is. “But it can’t hold a candle to Special Edition. I know what you’re capable of, Mr. Archer, and I wanted that. If you think you can show me that, I’d love to talk again.”
After I manage a thank you I barely feel, I walk out of there, shell-shocked. Detached. Scratching my head.
But when I walk past the location I thought I coveted, the picture I saw clearly disappears.
A new one takes its place.
40
A NEW FIRST DATE
