Page 47 of The Holy Grail
He couldn’t help the soft snort of amusement that escaped him.
“So … what would you want to be doing, if you weren’t involved with the bar?” she repeated, but when all he did was look at her, she demanded, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You’re just the first person to ever ask me that.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Everyone assumes this is what I want to be doing.”
“But it obviously isn’t …”
“No, but I’ve been doing it for so long it’s just what I do.” He pressed his lips together for a moment. “It was never really a choice I got to make.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s the family business. I began working here when I was in high school, cleaning in the afternoons, helping with deliveries, then waiting tables a couple nights a week and on the weekends.”
To Jules, who’d spent most of her high school years having fun with friends, that sounded like a total drag. “What about your brother and sister?”
“They both put some time in. Everett worked until he went to college, and Evelyn worked until she got married. And then they came back after our dad died and we inherited the place.”
“But you’ve been here theentiretime?”
“Yes. I’d considered going to college for a while, but my dad thought I’d be better off getting more involved in the business since it would be mine one day. Well, one third of it, anyway.”
“He didn’t put that same expectation on your brother or sister, though,” she pointed out.
“Probably because Everett was on his way to becoming a lawyer, and Evelyn was starting a family.”
Jules made a face at Everett’s ‘becoming a lawyer’ status giving him extra consideration and leeway, as did ‘starting a family’ for Evelyn, while Evan wasn’t given any. “I just think it’s crappy he didn’t let you decide what you wanted to do, too.”
There was a heavy silence between them for a few moments, until Jules remembered her initial question. “So … what would you want to be doing, if you weren’t involved with the bar?”
“Jesus, I don’t know, to be honest.” Evan sighed, then leaned forward and rubbed at his chin, digging into the neatly trimmed facial hair. “I mean, it’s not that I hate working here, it’s that I hate the limited role I have in everything. I own a third of this bar, but instead of feeling like an owner, I feel like an under-appreciated employee with little value. My ideas are never taken seriously, nor are my opinions, which really bugs the shit out of me.”
“What ideas and opinions?”
“All of them.”
She gave him a look that saidYou’re not being helpful.“Why don’t you give me a few examples?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You really want to hear this?”
“I really do.”
“Okay, well, I never wanted to change the name of the bar to Three Amigos. I wanted to keep the original name—”
“Which was?”
“Malone’s.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“When it came time to design the new logo, I didn’t get any say,” he said, pulling his shirt away from his chest so she could see the silk-screened image of a small boy (Evan) kicking the shin of a larger boy (Everett), who in turn was pulling on the hair of a girl (Evelyn), who in turn had the small boy (Evan) in a headlock and was giving him a noogie. “It didn’t matter that I hated it—this stupid caricature got put on everything, from the shirts and napkins, to our invoices, letterhead, and our new sign.
“And I get it, it’s very amusing, but I didn’t want to go for amusing—I wanted to go for a more sophisticated vibe, one that would make the place inviting. I know it’s a bar, but I wanted people to have a … premium experience, for lack of a better phrase, when they spent time here. I wanted the decor to be somewhat sophisticated, with honest-to-God ambiance, signature drinks, and a limited, yet great bar menu.”
He gave a quick shake of his head. “When it came time for the renovations, all of my suggestions were voted down. I wanted to re-finish the old, wide-plank floors, rather than replace them with that bullshit, fake wood flooring that has no character. I wanted to make all the booths more intimate, with deep, padded seating, and change out all the regular tables for high-top tables with big, comfortable chairs. I wanted the actual bar to be a focal point—in a classy way—where I’d serve drinks in beautiful glassware.
