I Want You Back (Want You #1)(21)
“Absolutely. And that’s why I need your ideas for this space.”
“Mine?”
“You just said you love being the idea girl.”
“How do you know that I’ve come up with anything concrete?”
“You’ve worked here for a year. You just told me about the solar eclipse thingy that is forcing you to admit the truth.”
Dallas rolled her eyes. “Nice try. Simone told you I’ve been working on it, didn’t she?”
“Yep.” I grinned. “Now hit me with it.”
Barely a minute passed before she spoke. “I have two ideas. Not both for this space. One’s for the tiny storefront down the block. I think for this building, you should divide it into two separate entities. That way you can go for two entirely different demographics.”
“Keep going. I’m already intrigued.”
“The upstairs right now is used for karaoke and it’s hit and miss. Turn it into a barcade—which is exactly what it sounds like. Fill the space with classic arcade games and pinball machines, then customers can drink while they play Pac-Man or whatever. That vintage stuff is hot right now. Decorate the area like an ’80s arcade or like someone’s basement from that era. But no tickets-for-prizes type of machines, because they might as well go to Dave & Buster’s. Just tokens that they can trade in for drinks if they want or buy more game time.”
I let that sink in before I said, “It already has a separate entrance, so having two different spaces would be viable. That’s brilliant. What else?”
She beamed back at me. “This one is totally fun. Use the historical aspect of the main part of this bar and turn it into a speakeasy. Have a ‘dummy’ entrance. Heck, a small section of the front of the house could even be a coffee bar, which would be another moneymaker. Access to the speakeasy is by password only. It’d have to be a word that changes frequently. You might even take out online ads or buy phone app ads to direct customers where to find the password. So it’s all a game and yet it’s a tiny bit exclusive. If people show up expecting to get in, they can’t. You can’t buy your way in either. And the speakeasy itself . . . How fun would it be to have two-way glass? The people inside could see the ones on the outside trying to get in, but the ones outside couldn’t see inside. You could keep the time period intact by not allowing the use of cell phones, playing music from that era, having the bar staff dress in costume and play roles. God knows there’s enough wannabe actors and actresses in this town. Drinks are handcrafted and high priced. People who go to the trouble of finding the code to get in won’t mind paying for the experience. So you can have high-end clientele on one end of the building and trendy upstairs. The best of both worlds.”
My mind. Blown. I pantomimed that and she glowed. The light of excitement danced in her eyes, and I just wanted to hug the shit out of her.
So I plucked her off the barstool and did just that.
I might’ve whooped and spun her around a time or two, which caused her to smack me on the back and shriek, “Jax! I am not Mimi! Put me down.”
“I’m just so freakin’ excited, Dallas. I want to get started on this right now. Today. Close the bar down and start gutting the place.”
“Now hold on. There’s a lot of other side things to consider. You want to make a big splash with this; PR and marketing has to be on board before a single wall comes down. Word of mouth is what’ll sell these spaces. And that has to happen in stages. I’m not gonna lie, cuz. You need Annika to sign on for PR. She is head and shoulders above anyone in PR in this town. She will kill at this.”
I felt a tug of resistance. Lucy worked for Annika, and I didn’t want Lucy involved in this project. The fewer people who knew, the better. “Annika would need to freelance this project. Simone and I would have final approval on anyone who assists Annika.”
Dallas blinked at me—a slow blink where, swear to god, I felt like she was reading my mind. “At LI Lucy is swamped with the layout for the spring spa line. Annika won’t pull her off that. But Annika can’t do it alone either.” She flapped her hand at me. “We’re getting off track. First discuss these ideas and changes with Simone. Then decide who does what. You’ve got a business degree, Jax. You know you need to set a budget, hire an architect and design firm—we both know who’s going to get that contract.”
Walker. My cousin whose construction company, Flint and Lund, specialized in restoration. His partner did the design work while Walker ran the construction crew. Not only would hiring family keep the concepts under wraps, Walker was the best in his field, so a win-win there.
Before Dallas started rattling off more ideas, I made the time-out sign. My poor head was spinning. “Okay, baby cuz, you’re hired.”
“Hired. But . . . hired to do what?”
“Implement ideas. You work well with Annika. And Simone. Walker adores you. You’re the logical choice to spearhead these projects since it’s obvious that you’ve been thinking about it for a while. And before you get that panicked look, I’ll let you decide your own level of involvement. If it gets to be too much, we’ll reassess, okay?”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Yes!” She did a shimmy-shake thing that was her version of a fist pump.