Page 101 of Waiting Game

I don’t see Kor pulling out of our agreement in the next seven days so I have fourteen grand to burn.

When I make it to the bar, Dionne’s already opened up the place and coffee is in the middle of the table where the entire team is sitting, waiting for me.

“Sorry I’m late, guys,” I apologize as I plunk my ass in the booth and retrieve a notepad from my bag.

“It’s fine,” Dionne says, but she shoots me a tight smile. “Only a couple minutes. What did you need to see us about?”

That’s when I realize everyone’s tense.

Even Beanpole, who I’m sure smokes weed in the back, looks stressed too.

I flip through my notepad and I shove it toward them. “I need your help.”

Dionne frowns as she stares at the notepad. “These are…”

“Memorabilia?” Jarvis throws in.

Wanting to lighten the mood, I nod. “I’ve decided that being so focused on baseball is really bad for business. We need to diversify into all sportsorswitch out at the end of the season for something else.”

Dionne blinks at me. “But Chuck’s is a baseball bar.”

“I know it is, but with the season being over, what are we supposed to do?”

“What we always do—show all types of games.”

“Yeah, but why would someone who’s a football fan come here when they could go to a general sports barora football-themed one?”

Larry scratches his nose. “You think the baseball shit puts people off?”

“I think it doesn’t help. And we have to try. This might not work but we don’t know unless we give it a shot.

“So, my idea is to pick a sport and to get some memorabilia, cheap stuff to start with, and to pepper that throughout the bar?—”

Picking at her nails, Dionne blurts, “So, you’re not firing us?”

I gawk at her. “Is that why you guys were all tense? I’m so sorry. I thought you’d have seen that things were ticking along for the moment.”

“We knew you’ve been more cheerful this past month.” Jarvis rubs the back of his neck. “Then you called us in and we didn’t know why.

“It’d be easier for you to throw in the towel than carry on. We’re not idiots, Mia. We know the bar’s not covering itself.”

“Chuck’s has been here for nearly sixty years, guys. I won’t be the Charles who quits on it. Therehasto be a way to make it pay in a city that’s sports-mad. I refuse to give in.”

Dionne pats my hand—my hand that I didn’t even know I’d balled into a fist until she blankets it. “You can only do what you can do, honey.”

“There’s more fight in me yet.” I make my nod decisive. “I want your input. What should our next step should be?”

“I think we need to be careful not to offend our current clientele. They like it how it is. They came here in the first place because they’re baseball fans,” Larry points out.

“I agree. So, we do this slowlyorwe keep it all well-themed.”

Dionne’s nose crinkles at the bridge. “You think this place has a theme? To me, it looks as if it were last painted when the place was inaugurated.”

I bite back a smile. “There’s no denying that. So, that’s our first move, then? Some paint?”

“I think so.” Larry nods. “At least you won’t have to bribe the health inspector the next time they come around like Chuck did.”

“Are you kidding me?” I shriek, aghast.

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