Mia nods as she writes everything down. Part of me wants to ask if she has an extra notebook so I can do the same, but I’m not sure if that would impress or insult her. She seems so in her element.
“Okay, let’s rapid fire these real quick. Tell me, upstairs or downstairs for food?”
“Downstairs.”
Mia nods. “Good answer, and bars open at both. Okay, music?”
“Sound system downstairs, band upstairs for dancing.”
Mia writes my answers in two different columns on her paper then peeks up at me. “Are you going to dance?”
“Not unless my sister forces me to.”
Mia lets out a small laugh. “Okay, what do you think about a photo booth? We have one that I’m getting repurposed, should be a good fit for Callie.”
“How much are you going to charge me for that?”
“I thought money wasn’t an issue?” Mia raises an eyebrow with this adorable smirk on her face.
“Upstairs, but I want a discount since it’s broken.”
“It won’t be broken at the time of the party.”
“It’s broken now, though—time of purchase, Mia.”
She shakes her head. “Fair enough. I forgot to mention there’s a price difference between bartenders and waiters so that’ll make up the difference.”
I huff in amusement. “Maybe I do want to see your breakdown of numbers since they’re subject to change.”
Miatsks. “We’ve just scratched the surface.”
Chapter 2
Mia
“No, we’re not doing Jell-O shots!” I semi-yell at Adam while laughing. I tell one story about taking too many of those things at a Halloween party, and now that’s suddenly all he can recommend for signature drinks. “I run a top of the line bar—pick something else.”
The gorgeous man has this massive smile on his face. I swear I’ve never seen anything like it, especially from him. For months, I thought he was the type of guy who didn’t know the definition of fun, but the more we’ve talked about this party—the more fun he gets.
An argument could still be made for the semi-serious front, though. You want to know what’s hot? A man who makes decisions. Good decisions at that. He knows exactly what he wants for this party, and the initiative is damn impressive.
We’ve practically got this whole event planned out to a T. There are only a few items that I need to look into further before making the final call, but damn, we got shit done in this one-hour meeting.
Except for right now, considering he won’t drop this drink thing.
“Heaven forbid you make Jell-O shots fancy, Mia. Maybe you can redeem yourself with them.”
“No way! They have sealed their fate. Locked in their moment in my college years. You’re making me regret telling you that story!”
I can’t explain why I told him, really. Somehow, while figuring out the details of this party we started sharing personal stories.
It started with a simple task of figuring out the menu, which led to Adam telling me about the family chefs in constant rotation growing up, which I followed with sharing about the one family chef we’ve had my whole life, who I love dearly.
We touched on our private school experiences, our shared hatred of all things “go with the flow,” then when it came to the drink menu, Adam told his story where a game of King’s Cup led to him not even being able to smell Smirnoff without getting queasy, and in return I told my Jell-O shot story.
Adam leans forward, tapping a finger on the notepad tracking all of our decisions. “All I’m saying is having someone hop on the barCoyote Uglystyle really sells a party. I’m going to need you to take one for the team on this one.”
A massive smile has taken up permanent residence on my face. I reach for my pen then jot down my words. “Adam to dance on the bar at eleven p.m. sharp. Mia to get plenty of videos and photos for future blackmail.”
