“I need you here, on-site, to make the decisions, not driving to Chicago,” he pointed out. “I mean, even if I send you on my plane, it’s time lost. We’ll be spending a good chunk of money with the supplier. Time is money, so the concierge service is a savings, you see?”
“I feel like I don’t get billionaire math.”
By the end of the day, though, she’d zoned in on a favorite. “This one will do.”
“This one? Are you sure?”
“Yes, it’ll do just fine.”
“It will do?”
“Yes.”
“Look, this one…this one is the same look, right? But more features.”
“And twice the price.”
“Excuse us for a moment.”
Stone wasn’t as rude as you’d expect a billionaire to be, not at all, J.J. was surprised to discover. But he did expect people to excuse him, or not, on command.
Their chair concierge nodded and then pretended to have a call to take and walked out onto the sidewalk, leaving Stone to look at J.J. like she was about to be grounded.
“What?”
“I’m willing to invest in this place, make it the nicest place in the lower peninsula, and you’re picking chairs that ‘will do’?”
“Well, there’s no need to waste money on things.”
“It’s not a waste to have the customers feel comfortable.”
“Look, the ones I want, wildest dream chairs, are nearly three times the price of the middle-range ones, and the middle-range ones are fine.”
“Come on.” Stone gently took J.J. by the wrist and guided her to the worktable in the back of the salon.
She ignored the strange little jolt of electricity she felt as he made the innocent gesture.
He indicated that she sit down, put a blank piece of paper in front of her, and then found a pencil.
“Draw it like you see it. Design your dream space. I’ll bring the rep back in, and we’ll get exactly what you want. But do me a favor. Think big, okay?”
“What?”
“Your dream space. Dean gave the town a gorgeous canvas for all these businesses. Hope and Siena made the most of it. And you love The Mercantile next door. They all pay homage to Dean’s work. Let’s do the same. I’m buying, remember?”
They locked eyes.He knows what Dean wanted more than I do?That seemed absurd. But then J.J. thought about how much time and attention he’d paid to the historic character of each of these old buildings. She knew her husband was a builder, but it was more than that. He’d wanted these places to be beautiful, to last, to make people feel joy when they were inside these walls. Stone was right. She hadn’t thought of Dean and what he’d think of this space, of how she should fill it in relation to the work he’d done.
Stone was right.
J.J. took a breath and looked down at the sketch pad in front of her. “Okay, give me a minute, I need to draw this out. Oh, and fair warning, by the time I’m done, you’ll be a millionaire.”
Stone laughed, nodded, and then left her with her pencil and imagination.
J.J. felt slightly off-kilter. She blamed Stone and a no-limit credit card.
Design your dream space, he’d said.Okay. Here it goes.
Within forty-five minutes, she had a sketch. One minute after that, Stone ordered everything on her wish list from the sales rep, who clearly saw the benefit of concierge-ing for Stone Stirling.
