“The last thing is from me.” I opened a box to reveal some festive green cocktail napkins for the bar with the letter “V” in white. I noticed Griffin cracked a smile. The “V” had a soft line at the top of the left line to match their logo. “These are just a few pennies more than the white ones. It just steps it up a notch. Now Griffin, the part you’ve been itching to see. The next page is a proposal from Phil Richards of the Richards Group outlining the cost of the construction, which if you look at the bottom line, is within your parameters. Also, I have already talked to him, and he has carved out the last two weeks of July and the month of August to do the renovations. I wanted to go ahead and get it on his books because that’s the best time since Atlanta is dead. Now we can walk around the restaurant, and I will show you where those paintings would hang.”

As we moved around, Griffin asked, “You’ve already lined up Phil Richards?” Henry and Griffin exchanged looks.

“Sure. If you want to move forward, not only do we need numbers, but we need availability. Mark will handle the new foliage. I want the color and the robustness of the plants to catch the eye of passersby. Now, I know this is a lot for you guys to take in. Just take your time.” We walked around the restaurant in silence, each counseled by our own thoughts. We circled back to the original booth. I reviewed my notes to make sure I hadn’t omitted anything.

“One last thing. If you do approve this renovation, we will want Lea to be here for a while until we get things really cooking,” I said and paused. “So to speak.”

“Griff and I will go back into your mini restaurant to talk things over and see if we have any questions,” Henry said. I watched them go back in Griffin’s office and close the door. Lea and I were left alone.

“Wow, Bailey,” Lea said, clearly impressed.

My thoughts drifted to Elliott and his throwaway comment to Mac. Would I have pushed the boundaries of my own imagination so relentlessly if it weren’t for Elliott? I decided, yes, I would have. I had challenged myself. I had undergone repair. If anything, those childhood years with and without my men, those dog-eared design magazines and empty lunch tables made me who I am.

I observed how the light glided in through the windows and provided a great assist to my color palette. I didn’t know whether Henry and Griffin would accept my presentation. I wanted them to like it. In the scheme of things, it just didn’t matter. I knew in my heart I had made a damn good presentation of a damn good proposal.