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We aren’t busy at all, really. The lunch crowd hasn’t picked up lately. It looks even quieter than usual. The decrease in business should have stress lines creasing my forehead. Today, nothing can dent my good mood. Unless Larkin is about to quit.
Walking with a tad less cheer, I lead Larkin into my office. Her blond hair is tied into a neat braid, her expression distant, like she’s spinning words in her head. The usual sarcastic glint she carries isn’t anywhere in her blue-green eyes.
Instead of falling onto the couch for a casual chat, I round my desk and sit in my chair. Everything about Larkin reads, Serious Talk.
“Lay it on me,” I say. There’s no point beating around the bush. Larkin is a straightforward, honest woman. If she’s quitting, I’ll just have to work more. See Cal less.
A pin of disappointment pricks my happy balloon.
Larkin sits taller and nods. “I want to buy in to the bar.”
“You…what?”
“Buy in to the bar. Be a partner with you. You’ve done an amazing job giving the Barrel life. It’s a staple in the community and a testament to your hard work. But it can be better. The food. The decor. Special events to liven up the lunch crowd. I have ideas—lotsand lots of ideas. And I love working with you,” she goes on, talking quickly. So confidently, I’m hanging on her every word. “I have funds saved and have spoken to the bank about a loan. I know changing the Barrel is a tough hurdle for you, but I also know you haven’t been happy with it. Not truly. I think you want to keep it. Keep your aunt’s legacy alive, but that doesn’t have to be exclusive of you thriving. With a partner, all the pressure wouldn’t be on you. I’d be here to share the burdens. Together, I think we can do great things.”
She draws in a deep breath. I’m not sure I’m breathing at all.
My first reaction isno. I can’t change this place. Not the food I hate. The atmosphere, which hasn’t been pulling in as many customers lately. I can’t change the Barrel because the Barrel is Aunt Becca. It’s the last piece of her I have. She left it to me. I’m supposed to keep her dreams alive.
Great things happen when you dream big.
Her framed note looms large from my desk. Her dream. The Barrel. This casual gathering place she envisioned and built.
Or did I misinterpret her note?
Maybe she wanted this to be my jumping-off point, not my end goal. Maybe she wasn’t referring toherdream continuing on through me. What if she wanted to inspire me to chase my own dreams instead?
“The regulars might not like changes,” I say. Not an outrightNo. NotThanks, but I don’t feel right changing this place. “We could lose more business.”
“We could.” She nods. “But reward only comes with risk. And the Barrel House will still be the Barrel House. I’m not talking about a complete overhaul. Definitely a big menu shift and some other fixes. With your love of food, you’d have to help with that end of things. Hire a new chef who jives with the changes and doesn’t forget to place meat and produce orders because he’s drinking at work—which has been happening, by the way. And I was thinking we could make lunch fun for people. Like let people roll dice when paying their bills on a certain day—if they roll snake eyes or something, they get a discount. Families would eat that up.”
I stare at Larkin, still shocked and overwhelmed, but seriously impressed. “Everyonewould eat that up. Do you have more ideas like that?”
She taps her temple. “They’re fighting for space.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, glancing again at Aunt Becca’s note.Great things happen when you dream big.
I’ve dreamed of revamping the menu for years, renovating the kitchen, but I always dismissed the ideas, afraid to fail. With Larkin’s offer, those old dreams resurface. Along with new ones coming alive—having a contest for kids to be a sous chef for a day. Weekend fun for the whole family, not just the nighttime bar crowd. And like Larkin suggested, the pressure wouldn’t all be on me. I’d have more time to make changes.
“Larkin,” I say, my voice wobbly with excitement, “I kind of love this idea.”
She clasps her hands at her chest. “You do?”
“To be clear, I’m terrified. Like, I’d be a bit of a stress case, but in a good way.”
“Is that a yes? You want to join forces and take over this town?”
“Holy crap. Yes.”
We grin at each other, then I’m up, hurrying around my desk to shake on the deal. But Larkin doesn’t grab my hand. She drags me into a hug, and my excitement grows. This is the kind of business partner I want. A hugging agreement made, rather than a handshake.
“Where do we start?” I ask.
“With the contract. I have a lawyer who can get to work on it.”
I knock her arm. “Look at you, all fancy with a lawyer at your fingertips.”
Her smile slowly fades. She pulls her braid over her shoulder and hunches forward.
