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“About Hayden’s trailblazing?” Vanessa clarified.
I smiled. “That’s one way to describe it.”
“I think it’s great.” She shrugged. “We could use a little sprucing, splash some of our fabulousness on social media. A lot of potential customers might not even know we exist, let alone that we’re downtown.”
Dean nodded. “Blanca and I really liked Hayden’s idea of personalizing the customer experience.”
“It’ll be trial and error,” Joe grouched, scratching the coarse little hairs on his chin. “Some of this will work for us, and some of it might not. It’s important to go into it with that in mind.”
“I’ll remember that, thanks, Joe.”
“And not all of these are ninety-day goals,” Vanessa added, reading through the list again. “We can split them up into time-specific goals and work on them from there.”
I nodded.
“The only goal I’m bringing forward,” I said, pulling my phone out, “is franchising and expansion.”
I dialed Hayden’s number and waited only two rings before she answered.
“Calling me during work hours?” she said, mock scandal in her words. I could almost see her gasp, a hand at the base of her throat in disbelief. “Don’t tell me: you can’t stop thinking about me and had to call me because you can’t focus.”
“Scale it back.” I chuckled. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Chapter thirty-four
A Little Awkward, A Lotta Wholesome
Hayden
Frankiestoodinfrontof me, her arms folded across her chest and her mouth turned down in defiance.
“Hayden,” she said, sounding out each syllable in my name. “This is too much.”
“I disagree,” I told her, and it was probably the even tone in my voice that irritated her most.
“Well, you would.” She sighed, her feet planted. “But I’m telling you that all of this? It’s way too much. Too much money, and too much effort.”
On any other day, I might have agreed.
But the circles under Frankie’s eyes were dark enough to look like permanent bruises, and if her cheeks sunk any more, I might scream.
“First of all,” I clarified, stepping around her and reaching into the refrigerator behind her. “There is no such thing as ‘too much effort’. There can only be what is done, and what isnotdone.”
She opened her mouth to retort but I brushed a stray curl behind her ear and she fell silent.
“Secondly,” I continued, grabbing one of the glass water bottles and closing the refrigerator door, “while I understand that itisa lot of money; it’s not ‘too much’.”
“You moved my mom into a private wing,” Frankie deadpanned as if she still couldn’t believe it.
I was still a little surprised, myself.
“Not just a private room, no,” she continued. “But a whole wing.Wing!”
“Yes, wing.” I laughed, grabbing the back of her neck and kissing her just below the ear.
Because I wanted to. Because I was finally allowed to.
“You don’t need to bother doing all of this for my family,” she finished.
