Page 21 of The Hampton Beach Café
“I'd be happy to make one for you,” he said. “I haven't done it in a while, but I don't think my hands have forgotten how.”
She jumped in before Lucinda could make a suggestive comment about his hands. “You made these?”
“Three of them, they take a few weeks though…” he said, “…about seven days for the construction itself and maybe five days for the carving, ten because I still have to run the gallery. Probably.”
Frances and Lucinda looked at each other. It all seemed to add up nicely––all that was left was the price.
“How much are we looking at?” Lucinda asked.
He shrugged. “Oh, just the cost of the supplies, maybe a few hundred? A thousand, maybe.”
They shared another glance.
“No,” Frances said. “A thousand bucks for materials and over a hundred hours of labor? Not a chance.”
Vincent looked sheepish. “Sorry, I know it's a lot.”
“What?” Lucinda exclaimed. “A lot of what? BS? There's no way you should be charging less than five grand for one of these.”
Frances grimaced. Lucinda was right, but they really couldn't afford a five thousand-dollar bar.
He screwed his face up. “Really? Nah, it's not that hard. Besides, I like doing it. Same with my art.”
“And how much do you charge for your art?” Lucinda asked. “Cost of materials?”
“Well...no, but not a lot more,” he said.
No wonder he couldn't afford his own gallery,Frances thought. How did he even make rent in that pop-up of his?
He didn't, really. She remembered their conversation on the weekend. A solution was forming in front of her eyes, but she'd have to be careful not to annoy Lucinda.
“Luce…” she said, hoping her friend would get the hint, “…remember I mentioned the pop-up with the interesting boss-lady?”
A smile broke out on Lucinda's face, and Frances thanked the heavens her friend was so switched on.
“We have a proposition for you,” Lucinda said, winking at Frances.
Vincent blushed slightly, and Frances noted the satisfied look in Lucinda's eyes. That woman was incorrigible.
“We are hoping to get everything sorted here in six months…” she said, “…and I hear your rent is a problem at your current location. What about using this space as a gallery? The bar can act as an upfront rent payment?”
The excitement in his expression was clear, but he looked hesitant too.
“And we won't ever refer to ourselves as boss ladies, your bosses, or your landlords,” Frances said. “You might not be a part owner, but you'd be part of a team.”
She swallowed hard. She wasn't used to having her negotiation skills tested in such a personal way––or taking risks on people she barely knew. Like she had said to Lucinda, though, she trusted and liked Vincent. She just hoped her gut was right.
“Alright,” he said finally, “with rent that low, and partners as chill as you two, how could I refuse? Shall we go out tonight and celebrate––The Casino has a lady’s night. What do you think?”
Lucinda jumped in. “There’s a casino here? No, not a casino––let’s do dinner and drinks at the seafood place Alex took us to.”
Frances grimaced. If she was going to tell Alex, it needed to be soon and intentional––not because they bumped into each other.
“Let’s go tomorrow night,” she said. “We need to get this place ready to sleep in. We check out of the BnB this afternoon.”
TWELVE
With Vincent's help, they had actually managed to clean the whole house from top to bottom. He was a real lifesaver, that man. Clarkson had poked his head in that morning but scarpered before any scrubbing started.
