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***
Wednesday night at the club is crazy. I don't show up there until almost eight thirty to catch up on some work, but when I get there, the line reaches far down the street. Considering how many people can fit in Malt, some of these people are going to be out here for hours.
Good for my girl.
She's worked so hard, not just in the last few weeks, but to set this club up for success in just its first month.
She knows what she's doing, and I never should've doubted that.
The whole night is one of the club's most successful nights. I surrender my seats at both her table and at the bar and make my way to her office.
There's no extra information about Patrick yet.
But I'm in no hurry. I want the job done well.
At one a.m. when I think the crowd might have died down a little, I go out to the clubroom. She's talking to a couple at her table and I wander over, making sure not to approach until she's seen me.
She looks exhausted but happy and it makes my heart sing.
Tired is okay,tiredis worth it when her face beams like this, most of the worry from the earlier meeting with Paula seemingly dissipated, making room for her excitement about how her evening has gone.
"Matthias," she says, holding out her hand to me. "Come meet Marisa and Annette from Heard It Here." She names an entertainment blog popular with the younger crowd. Their presence on TikTok and Instagram command a following in the millions and a single good review can sell out products in minutes, and extend waiting lines around the block.
Them being here and seeing the club on a night like this is an incredible opportunity for Clarissa and Malt. So, I do what I do best; I charm them.
"Hello, it's so lovely to meet you. I'm Matthias."
"Of course," the woman Clarissa introduced as Marisa says, beaming and patting the empty seat next to her. "Do you come here often?"
Clarissa shoots me a look, wondering how we should act. The leaks about our relationship should be out now. But this wasn't part of the plan.
Paula couldn't orchestrate this moment if she pulled every favor she had in the gossip channels. This is a chance encounter, and that counts for gold in the gossip industry.
There's no time to check in with her though, so I make a snap decision.
Tipping my head at Clarissa to suggest that we're going to go with it, I settle into the offered seat.
"Actually, it's a funny story. Clarissa and I go back. We grew up together. Spent our entire childhoods together. And now, well, I'm hoping I can spend the rest of my life with her."
Clarissa's her eyes momentarily widen and then she plasters a smile on her face.
Too much, Clarissa. She quickly corrects herself and tries again; this time she looks genuinely happy to be engaged
"Oh! Wow, I had no idea!" Marisa exclaims and even in the dark, I can see the cogs turn in her head as mentally takes notes for her next post, no doubt, announcing our engagement.
"Well, we've been trying to keep it out of the papers," I say, leaning in like I'm letting her in on a secret.
"Oh, of course, I understand," she nods, careful not to make the outright promise that she's not going to blast it on every channel her brand has.
"But, to answer your question, oh yes, I come here every night. And you know, I've gone to a lot of bars. This one is my favorite, the music, the drinks, the service. It's the whole package, old world charm with a modern atmosphere."
I might not be Paula, but I know how to deliver a sound bite, a quote when I need to.
"And let me tell you this"—I lean in, almost whispering in her ear—"I'm going to put my money down right now, that this place is going to be the hottest spot of the summer and win a few Eat awards. Clarissa and the team have a lot of amazing things in store. Don't you think?"
Always make them verbally agree, it cements the idea in their head.
Any negotiation book will tell you that.
