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Weston throws him a sharp look. “Maybe I do. What’s not to like? She’s different from your typical New York City woman—”
“It didn’t hurt that she wasn’t wearing a bra that night…” Owen adds.
“Whatever, man. You can’t tell me that partnering with a small, woman-owned business won’t be the perfect balance to a restaurant like ours. The possibilities are endless. Think of the goodwill she brings to the table.”
We look at him, waiting.
“Okay. I get it. What good does it do her to partner with us?” Owen asks.
“Our money. Our connections. Don’t be such a dolt, Owe,” Weston says
Damn.
He continues. “We need a multi-part approach that includes things like community support, help from local authorities, and probably even a lawyer.”
Owen rubs his hand over his face. “Fine. That’s all fine. But it sounds expensive as hell. We’re profitable, but barely. We’ve earmarked any extra money for growth, and now we have to spend it to save our asses?” He slams a fist on the table, shaking everything.
I ignore his outburst and turn to Weston. “Do you have anything specific in mind, Wes?”
“As a matter of fact, I do, as long as Owen can keep his temper tantrums under control.”
I try not to laugh. Their bickering is legendary.
He continues. “What I’m thinking, if Livvy’s on board, is some sort of party, kind of like the one we had last week, but a little less fancy. More down-home.”
I glance at Owen and see he’s listening.
“We can rely on Livvy’s customer list and hold a gathering for pet owners, where they actually bring their animals. We’ll engage people, get some good PR, and let everyone know we’re serious about standing our ground.”
Damn. I could seriously get behind that.
“I like it,” Owen says slowly. “Throw in free cocktails and dog treats and we’ve got our own peaceful little protest. We’ll invite the city council, of course, and maybe even the landlord. Yeah, man, I can see this working.” He gets to his feet. “I think I’ll head over to talk to Livvy right now.”
Hedoeslike her. He can’t hide shit.
I stand too. “It’s time for me to get back in the kitchen for lunch service. You go forth and conquer, Owen. Make us proud,” I say smacking him on the back.
I suspect, in addition to pitching her on Weston’s event idea, he’s also working in a little flirt time with our pretty neighbor. Thank goodness she came to us with the news, and willingness to work with us. She could have left us in the dark, I suppose, but then she’d be hurting herself just as much as us.
The woman is no dummy.
Weston heads to his office to kick off his master plan, and I go to the kitchen to get my hands dirty.
Best part of the day.
17
ENZO
On the night of Wine& Whiskers, so named by Livvy, EastSide is buzzing like a live wire. Dressed-up pet owners are streaming in with dogs in bowties and even a few cats wearing tiaras. You can see it in the guests’ faces, how psyched they are to have a party where their pets are welcome, and why not? Who doesn’t want to have their best friend by their side? The goodwill in the air as people meet each other’s four-legged friends is unmistakable. Talk about the absolute perfect ice breaker. Even the shyest, most awkward person in the world would be able to make small talk at a party like this.
Actually, we have a feathered guest too, a parrot named Polly sitting on the shoulder of a quirky guy named Tim. I swear the bird was squawking about tits, but I can’t be sure, and don’t really want to find out.
Livvy cruises the party, about a thousand times more confident than she was at the gathering we hosted a couple weeks back. Tonight, this woman is in her element. Nearly everyone knows her. And they clearly adore her. She glides through the crowd in the same sexy dress she wore last time—so she only has one nice dress, who cares?—greeting not only the humans but also their animals. Who knows how all this will play out in the end, whether we’ll win or the developers, but it’s a nice change here in EastSide to see these folks alongside the well-heeled foodie crowd.
I even got our pastry chef to dig up a recipe for dog treats, and by the way they’re being scarfed down by our guest canines, he’ll have a new career if he ever tires of preparing people food.
“What do you think?” I ask Livvy when she slows down enough for me to catch up to her.
