Should’ve Known It’s You (Not You Again #7)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

KENNEDY

I would very much have liked to throttle him with his necktie, but I sat down instead, vibrating with anger that I was extremely close to losing control of. Gripping the edges of my chair, I dug my nails into the metal frame to ground myself and focused on my breathing.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

Austin waited patiently for me to begin, a calm and expectant expression on his face as he folded his hands on his desk. I couldn’t believe he was the jackass who’d canceled on me. I hadn’t even remembered that he’d told me he was an investment banker until that other douchebag had muttered something about owing Merrick for sending him the crazy .

It had only been then that I’d put two and two together, but admittedly, I could’ve handled it better myself. Focusing on his deep brown eyes, I forced myself to make use of the opportunity he’d given me and pitched my restaurant.

I’d rehearsed this a thousand times and pitched it just as many, and as I spoke, I gained confidence and pride. I really believed in my idea. I just needed someone else to believe with me. Just one other person had to buy into it, and I might finally be able to see my dreams turned into reality.

“I grew up with an aunt who worked in hospitality,” I started. “I spent so many days after school at her hotel, coloring behind the front desk or helping out wherever I could. It was my first job and my first love.”

I paused for a beat, feeling a wistful smile on my lips. “I found purpose there, and my aunt showed me what it meant to love and take care of people, especially strangers who deserve it more than anyone else sometimes. I want to create a place like that too.

“My dream is to open my own small, intimate hotel here in New York City, with the shining crown jewel being a restaurant on the roof that will be fit for any occasion and where everyone is welcome.”

So far, he’d simply been listening, but I noticed his eyebrows tugging together now. The frown was slight but very real, and I cut myself off, arching an eyebrow at him in return.

“What?” I asked, perhaps too sharply.

Austin wasn’t thrown off by my tone, though. Leaning forward, his eyes remained steady on mine and he gave it to me straight. “Business models with a specific target demographic do better than a broad target. Fit for every occasion, where everyone is welcome? What does that even mean?”

Obviously not expecting an answer, he went on, but his tone wasn’t dismissive or rude. Instead, he sounded honest and inquisitive. “It needs to be more specific than that, Kenny. Are you going to be hosting kids’ birthdays as well as fancy dinners? Is it a date-night spot? Will it be family friendly? Do you have coloring books as well as bespoke cocktail menus?”

He shook his head. “That won’t work. In theory, it’s wonderful to say that it’s going to be fit for every occasion and that everyone will be welcome, but the reality is different. I suppose it’s not impossible to create a space that will be all things to all people, but if that’s really what you want, you need to set it out a lot more clearly.”

As he looked back at me, evidently done now, my head spun as I tried to formulate an answer. “I… don’t know.”

In all the many, many sit-downs I’d had with potential investors so far, none of them had said anything along these lines before. They’d just said no. Could this be why? I should’ve been more specific all along?

“What do you think the market needs?” I asked after taking a beat to think about it. “I’ve had this picture in my head all along of a place that caters to everyone for everything, and where people come in to feel at home and have a good time, but I suppose it comes down to what the market needs.”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he said, straightening up before he sat back in his chair. “All of those are questions you need to be able to answer, Kenny. You need to have a clear vision. If your menu is a printed piece of paper for a child to color on while the parents decide on what to have for dinner, you’re not going to pull in the guy who wants to take his girl out for a nice dinner. If you’re going to have children’s parties, it’s unlikely you’re also going to become a popular couple’s brunch spot, for example.”

I nodded slowly, taking it all in. This was the first time anyone was actually giving me constructive feedback. Winrey, Benji, and even Jess had all been so completely supportive of my ideas that they hadn’t questioned me at all. Instead of jumping to my own defense at being challenged like this, I appreciated it.

It was making me think about so many things I hadn’t considered before, and that, in turn, made me feel bad over the way I’d spoken to him earlier. Guilt trickled through me as I looked into those gorgeous brown eyes.

I’d treated him terribly, and it turned out he might not have deserved it after all. “I’m sorry about going off on you like that before. I know it’s not an excuse, but I haven’t had the best day and that Tate Donovan asshat just made things worse. It’s not your fault or your problem, though, so I apologize. Truly, I’m sorry.”

In hindsight, I had behaved so terribly that I was mortified. After that meeting with my parents, I’d already been on edge when I’d arrived here. Tate had simply shoved me over it.

In acting like a bit of an unhinged lunatic, I knew I had embarrassed Austin in front of his coworkers. I’d even blurted out to his entire office that we’d slept together, which was regrettable.

Despite all that, however, he grinned at me and dipped his chin in a nod. “What can I do to make your day better?”

I gave him a coy smile. “Say yes to my pitch and help me open my restaurant?”

He grimaced. “It’s not that I don’t want your business to take off, Kenny. I do, but from where I’m standing, I’m not sure you’re at the right place to be looking for investors just yet.”

“I’m not?”

He shook his head. “I’m not even sure if we’re talking about opening a restaurant or a hotel. You started off by speaking about your aunt’s hotel, but you keep calling what you want to open a restaurant . Does that mean we’re doing both? Is it a hotel with a place to eat or a restaurant that also happens to offer accommodation to overnight visitors? Both of those things are possible, of course, but I’m just not getting a clear vision from you.”

My heart dropped, but all the points he was making were valid. As much as I would have loved to start ranting and raving again, it would be counterproductive. Clearly, he wanted to help me. There were just too many questions I didn’t have answers to right then.

“There’s a reason you’ve gotten nothing but no’s,” he said. “You have to hone in on what you really want to offer. Polish it up. Get specific. People won’t throw money at a thing they can’t easily visualize. They need to see the dollar signs and you need to put ‘em up for them.”

I groaned and slumped in my chair, feeling like I was back at square one. “I really appreciate all your help.”

I just feel like my dream is slipping through my fingers like grains of sand I’m trying to cling to in the middle of a hurricane.

If I couldn’t make it happen here, I couldn’t make it happen anywhere. New York City was rife with opportunity. The people here could spot a successful business concept from two miles away. While it might be easier to go someplace smaller, like Firefly Grove, to open my hotel and restaurant, I also knew a business like mine was unlikely to survive there in the long term.

There just weren’t enough feet coming through the town.

Plus, I loved New York. I didn’t want to leave here, and besides, I could go anywhere in the country and I would still get the same responses. At least until I had a clearer vision.

The greatest problem here was that I didn’t know what I didn’t know, which was why I hadn’t known what the problem was with my pitch until Austin had told me. If someone could just give me a shot, though, I knew I could make it a huge success, and that success would have ripple effects.

I could help Winrey and Benji with the baby. I could make a positive impact in all corners of my life, but someone needed to say yes first. And it was starting to feel like that would never happen. I choked back tears, so dejected that right then, I couldn’t even fathom getting up to leave his office.

Austin must’ve seen how crestfallen I was because he suddenly spoke up again. “You know what? The rest of my afternoon is open. Let me take you out and make you feel better. I have an idea.”

“I thought you were really busy with that big report,” I murmured, glancing up at him and frowning. “You said you were on a deadline.”

“I am, but it only needs to be done tomorrow and I’ve made good progress.” He turned to his computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard for a few moments before he powered it down. “There we go. I’ve told Mindy I’m out for the day. Let’s go. I promise this will make you feel better.”

As I watched, he got up and gathered his things, and for the first time, I noticed again that he really looked nothing like the farm boy I’d once known. In a dove gray suit that fit him so well, it had to have been custom-made and a crisp white button-down underneath, he was the very picture of success.

The suit accentuated his broad shoulders and tall frame, and the way he filled out the expensive fabric spoke of the toned figure hiding beneath. My mouth watered as I looked at him, remembering the last time he’d offered me a distraction, and I didn’t know what he saw on my face but he suddenly smirked and shook his head.

“I have a different idea this time,” he said. “Let’s go, Sweet. Time’s a tickin’ and happy hour has already started. There’s an ice-cold beer with my name on it just waiting for me, and if you’re really lucky, I might let you have the one I get free with it.”