"Neither of you are risking anything," Tyree said, and both Reece and Brent started to volley protests. "We'll do this thing, but only on my terms, you understand? And I don't want the bar to be an albatross around either of your necks."
Reece glanced at Brent to see if his friend had a clue where Tyree was going with this, but Brent only shrugged.
"So our deadline is the end of this year. New Year's Eve. I need to see a steady profit and solid projections. Not just sufficient income to pay off the loan. I need to see real potential for growth."
"And if not?" Reece asked.
"That nibble from Booty Call's more than a nibble. It's a full-blown offer that expires the end of the year. We're not in a rock-solid position, then we accept the offer, you boys get your investments back plus a percentage, and we call it a good try and move on." He looked at both of them in turn, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back. "Those are my terms. Take 'em or leave 'em."
"That's not a lot of time for the kind of turn-around in income we're talking about," Reece said, thinking over inventory, personnel, the menu, and the current marketing plans. "It's already mid-April."
"We need to build buzz," Brent said. "Get the word out and get more customers in. Reece is right. That's not very long in the grand scheme of things."
"That's all the time there is," Tyree said, crossing his arms over his massive chest. "Deal's on the table. Ball's in your court."
"We're in," Reece said, shooting Brent a trust me look. "There's just one condition."
Tyree squinted suspiciously. "What's that?"
"We need to add one more partner to the mix."
Chapter Eight
"Partner?" The word tasted strange on Jenna's tongue, and she glanced sideways at Amanda, as if her friend could help interpret this paradox. They'd met at The Fix for a late lunch after Jenna's interview because, as Amanda had put it, "I love my parents, but if I don't escape, I'll turn gray before I'm thirty-five."
So Jenna had served as a helpful excuse for Amanda to get away. Amanda, however, wasn't returning the helpfulness favor; she looked just as confused as Jenna.
Jenna turned her attention back to Reece and Brent, both of whom were standing behind the bar right in front of Jen and Amanda's half-eaten order of mini crab cakes. "You're saying that you want me to be a partner in The Fix? Like an owner? That's what you're saying?"
"That's what we're saying." Reece took her glass and refilled the Diet Coke. "So?"
Her eyes cut toward the back hallway, down which Tyree had just disappeared. He'd come over with the guys, greeted both women, and then told Jenna that Brent and Reece had something to tell her. Then Tyree had left, and her two best friends had shooed Eric--the first shift bartender who'd been telling Jen and Amanda about his unsuccessful hunt for a new apartment--down to the far end of the bar.
After that, the guys had relayed their morning conversation with Tyree and the plan to get the bar back on its feet.
A plan that, frankly, she thought was brilliant. For them. For her, not so much.
"In case you missed the memo, I don't have any money to invest. I don't even have enough money to buy a car. Thus the job search and this morning's interview. Which, by the way, went fabulously, thanks for asking."
Amanda whistled through her teeth, then leaned back, giving each guy the eye. "Doghouse," she said under her breath.
Brent scowled in her direction, and Jenna rolled her eyes. Brent and Amanda had gone out twice, and even though there didn't seem to be sparks, Jenna was a romantic and still held out hope. Brent needed a woman in his life, and Faith needed a mom. And since Amanda and Brent were two of her best friends...
"So you got the job?" Reece said, interrupting her matchmaking meanderings.
"What? Oh, no. Not yet anyway. But I'm sure I will. They want me on a project tonight. They called it an on-the-job interview. So it's looking good."
"Yeah? That's terrific."
"Thanks, but I don't have it yet. And it's not like they're going to advance me the big bucks. So I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be a partner."
"We want you for your mind, not your money," Brent said, and Amanda snorted.
"Men never say that," Amanda muttered, then shoved another crab cake into her mouth.
Jenna swallowed a laugh. "All right. I'm listening."
"We need your marketing expertise," Brent explained. "Your ideas and your time. Not your money."