I nod and walk over, the past dissipating behind me. “Sure. What do you need?”
She turns to Mr. Donovan to include him, shifting her attention back and forth between us. “We were discussing the patio and Brendan, you’d mentioned having a retractable awning for the weather. I’m in a little over my head when it comes to construction, but you seemed like you could see the image of how this should look.”
I turn to the plastic covered space and hold out my hands to show them. “Yeah. Well, you’d said you want a black awning, which is perfect, and since the front of your bar has a sleek, modern feel, I’d keep that going with a short fence around the patio around this high, so it maintains an open quality, but keeps exclusivity as well. Not just tables on the sidewalk, you know? And the awning should have a see-through plastic, rolling wall accessible for when it rains. For the rest of the year, it won’t be there. Unless you want the privacy it will afford for special parties.” I turn to Mr. Donovan, knowing I have to include him in order to spark his desire to help. “You’re the expert, though. These are just ideas. I really don’t know anything about how this would work, or if it’s even possible, so please tell me if I’m way off base here.”
“I was thinking something along the lines of what you just said.”
“Really? Oh, great. Well, What do you think would work best for security?”
He launches into his plan for a collapsible iron gate operated by a button next to the register he’ll install. “The tables and chairs will have to be taken in. The only reason this will work is because the building is already pushed back from the sidewalk, giving you space to build. Half the patio will be inside and half out. So if you’re doing six tables – high ones like these?” He gestures to the tables in the middle of the room behind us. Annie nods, glancing to them. “Then three of those will be officially outside. The awning will be relatively short, which frankly, saves you money. But you can’t cut into the actual sidewalk without pissing off the city.”
Annie’s phone goes off and she pulls it out, still looking at him to say, “We don’t want to do that!” Her eyes fall to the screen and I can’t help but look, too, since it’s right there. A photo of a man wearing no shirt, smiling with a spatula in his hand, vanishes as she rejects the call, but I couldn’t help but see the name Christiano, too. Her eyes flit up to me, but I look away. Now is not the time to ask who the fuck that was. “So… um… is insurance going to cover this? Because I know I can’t.”