Page 37 of Kiss and Tell
“Sorry,” he said. “We just passed a coffee shop. I need to caffeinate myself.”
After ordering two coffees and handing one to me as I murmured a thanks, we were back on the road.
“For the grand opening,” I continued, “I think we should build up some hype in the neighborhood ahead of time. Talk to all those new shop owners and invite them to come. And we should invite some of the regulars from the old bar. Show them that it’s new and improved.”
“Good idea.” Connor swerved again, making me jolt to the side and press against the door.
“I love this sandwich shop,” he explained. “I’m going to get a snack for the road.”
I had to wonder if he was stalling on purpose, although why he would do that I didn’t know.
“As I was saying,” I said once he got back into the car and we headed out again, “getting the neighborhood involved is a good idea. I’m sure most of the business owners have noticed the eyesore that is the current bar. We’re going to want to let them know we’ve got big plans for it.”
“I like it,” he said with a nod.
“That won’t be enough people to fill the room, so you should also start thinking of your personal guests, your friends and others,” I said.
Connor’s hands tightened on the wheel, making the leather squeak.
“What about media people and stuff?” Connor asked. “We can ask food bloggers or whatever.”
“I’ve already started researching that,” I told him. “But we want the atmosphere to feel friendly, so you should work on a list of friends and colleagues you want to invite. What about that friend you told me about?” I asked. “Mason, wasn’t it?”
Connor’s whole body jerked, the car curving to the left, but he quickly caught himself.
“Sorry,” Connor murmured, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Just surprised me. I didn’t think you’d remember me telling you about him.”
“He’s your childhood friend, right?” I asked. “I’ll put him on the guest list.”
“Don’t bother,” Connor said.
“What?” I stared at him. “Why not?”
“We lost touch,” he said bluntly. “He’s busy with his work and we don’t run in the same circles anymore, so—” Connor stopped short. “I guess it’s been hard to keep in touch or whatever.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I know it’s hard when friends drift apart.”
Connor’s lips pressed together in a line.
“Maybe this is the perfect opportunity to hang out again,” I said. “He can come to the grand opening and see what you’ve been working on.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Connor said roughly as his fingers tapped a rigid beat against the steering wheel. “Anyway, it’s fine. I’ve got other people I can invite.”
I nodded and turned my eyes to my notebook, pretending to make a note of it. But what I really wrote down was the wordMason, circled with a question mark next to it.
“Let’s work on that media list,” I told Connor, willing to let the subject drop. I pulled out my phone and typedbeer blogsinto the search bar, figuring we’d start with the most relevant subject first. “There are a lot of bloggers and journalists out there who cover the food and drink industry. Maybe I can even get some interior design media out to talk about the reno. Let’s do some research.”
“Sounds good,” Connor murmured, his eyes staying fixed on the road.
As I scrolled through pages of search results and tossed out names for Connor to say either yes or no to giving an invite, I kept a close eye on him.
Connor had never acted the way he had when I mentioned his best friend, not even when he talked about how he used to be a musician. Talking about his past pained him, but he’d never been so short with me, so curt.
Whatever reason the two of them had for not being in touch anymore, it couldn’t have just been that they got busy. There had to be something more to it.
I had to wonder, what was it that had caused Connor to be so upset?
It was like before, when I’d wanted him to be happy with the bar redesign.
