“Fuckin’ love,” muttered Joe. “It’ll do it to you.”
“Hmm. Grandpa said he fell. Apparently it was raining that day and the floor was slippery.” Andre drew up his legs, resting his arms on his knees. “Any building old enough is going to have a death or two in it. Though there have been unsubstantiated reports of dear old Dad still hanging around.”
Perking up, Pat narrowed his gaze on the man. “I saw something in the bar’s basement. Could have sworn someone was down there with me. And if anyone’s haunting the place, it’d be your old man.”
Hissing out a breath, Andre reached for another piece of pizza. “True enough.”
“Andre Senior loved that bar.”
“He did the mirrors on the ceiling?” I asked, loving their stories.
Andre barked out a laugh. “Got it in one. You show her the last of the graffiti in the bathroom?”
“Not yet,” answered Joe, smiling.
“The old man had a pretty relaxed decorating policy. For thirty years, anyone could leave their mark just about however they liked,” said Andre. “Made for a hell of an atmosphere.”
“Yeah, I saw the names and dates cut into the bar.”
Lots of chuckles. It was interesting, being around people who have known each other for so long. Not to say Joe was a different person around these two men, but he seemed more relaxed. Maybe it was because I wasn’t his focus for once. I could just watch him, see how he acted normally. Interestingly enough, he sat cross-legged like someone meditating, only he had a beer in his hand. But his big body was lax, the lines on his forehead, which I seemed to keep causing, gone for once.
He was just hanging, being with friends. It was lovely to see.
“Joe tells me you’ve got some good ideas for what to do with these rooms,” said Andre, blowing my calm to pieces. My gaze jumped to Joe then to Andre and back again.
“They’re just doodles, really.”
“Well, he emailed them to me and I don’t agree. I think they’re great and that we should take this project seriously.” Andre watched me with interest. “I’ve been saving for a while, got enough to cover materials if you’re willing, like Joe, to take your pay as a percentage of the profits. I think we could at least make a start up here, clearing the space, cleaning things up. Tomorrow suit you, Alex? I’m sure Joe would be happy to bring you by so we could all talk.”
“You emailed them my drawings without asking?”
“Yes,” said Joe. “Tear into me about it later, if you like. But the fact is, your work is good, Alex.”
My mouth opened. And just kind of stayed that way.
“I’ve got money to invest in something too,” added Pat in his low voice. “Especially if you’re thinking apartments. Living above the parlor would work for me. No travel time. Keep shit simple. It’d be nice to get the rest of the building fixed up, attract more customers and hopefully fill those empty shops downstairs with new businesses. Having more people around would be good for everyone’s businesses.”
Lips pressed together, Andre tipped his chin. “I’m sure we could work something out.”
“Kind of like that idea of living here myself,” said Joe. “Renting a place with Eric is getting old.”
More nodding of heads. And then all eyes turned to me.
“Honestly, they’re just an amateur’s ideas.”
“Just a visual designer’s ideas,” said Joe. “Anyway, ideas are exactly what we need.”
Andre took a gulp of beer, still nodding. “What he said.”
“Tomorrow works. Around noon, okay?” Climbing to his feet, Pat brushed off the seat of his pants. Obviously about to disappear as if everything had been decided. “Later.”
“Thanks for the pizza.” Andre followed the other man out. “Good to meet you, Alex. See you tomorrow.”
“I, ah…”
Joe just smiled.
These people. I threw up my hands. “I’m neither an architect nor a decorator. Mostly I just design logos and stuff.”
“You’re way more than that,” he said. “You’re someone with ideas who’s excited about the thought of working on the old girl. Bringing her up to date and making her shine again.”
“You had no right to send those pictures to anyone.”
“I know, but I did it anyway.”
“Come on, Joe. Have you even properly thought about this? I live in another state,” I exclaimed. “Does it really make sense for you to try and collaborate with someone who won’t even be around soon?”
“You said you could work on your laptop wherever.” He leaned in closer. “Why are you fighting this so hard?”
“I’m not the right person for the job.”
“No. You’re just someone who’s dreamed of working on a project like this.”
Well yeah, he had me there. Those dreams were mine. Here was my chance.
“Andre and Pat, all of us, really, we’d rather work with a passionate amateur than a half-assed professional any day of the week. Besides, we’ll get an architect to check over it and do all the boring logistical stuff. Pull some permits and all that.” The easy way Joe looked at me was so serene. Confident. “Two of us are lined up to live in these studio apartments already. You get the style of the Dive Bar. All we need to do is bring a bit of that up here.”
“There’s more to it than that.” I brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms tight around them.
“You always this negative?” he asked.
“I prefer cautious.”
“Sure about that?”
My chin jutted out. “Yes. I know my limits and I prefer not to disappoint people or myself.”
For a moment, Joe studied me. His big shoulders rising and falling on a breath. “Okay. If you still feel that way tomorrow morning and you want more time, or you’re going to catch that flight home, I’ll call Andre and Joe, tell them the meeting’s off. That work for you?”
“Yes.” Inside me, the panic slowly unwound, slipping out of me. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Joe leaned over, clinking his beer against mine. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
He kept on watching me with his lips shut tight. Most people’s attention wigged me out, put me on edge. But not Joe’s. Or not exactly. He meant me no harm. Somewhere deep down inside of me, I knew it to be true. The man was a straight shooter.
Not that I didn’t want to kind of beat him with a wet fish for putting me on the spot like that.
Inside my head, things were winding down, starting to hurt. I pulled some Kleenex out of my pocket and blew my nose. A lovely feminine flower, that was me. Not that Joe ever seemed perturbed. The bearded one was a true gentleman, despite all of the hair, tats, and savage looks. Though realistically we’d only known each other for a few days. Sure, we’d been emailing each other for months, but face-to-face was different.
“You’re looking tired,” he said. “Want to go back to the hotel now?”
“Soon.” The pizza was finished but half of my beer remained. “I do like your friends. Even the ones who play bad love songs.”
Quietly, he laughed. “Nell has a lot to answer for.”