“I can get behind all the neon lights. It’s a classic for a reason. But that ice-blue color is awful. Kind of too bright. Looks like somewhere people are gonna wait to see if they’re going to heaven or hell. No one’s gonna want to get shit-faced while they’re worried about their immortal souls.”

“Fair enough,” I said, swiping the image away. It wasn’t at the top of my list anyway. I’d included it in case she hated everything else. “Any others you don’t care for?”

“This one. The red and black. It just screams cheesy vampire romance book. And don’t get me wrong, I love a cheesy vampire romance book. It’s just the wrong vibe for a club. Besides, I think it needs more seating. This isn’t the mid-aughts, where everyone could club for five hours straight on icepick heels, running on adrenaline and cranberry vodka. The people are tired. They want to sit on occasion.”

“I agree,” I said, nodding. I’d been adding more seating to my clubs over the last two projects I’d worked on. “Let’s try this: what do you like that you see here?”

“I like the purple and blue lighting. And these lights in particular,” she said, pointing toward the circular ones. “I think it’s important that the small details are unique and photographable. Everyone takes pictures and videos everywhere they go now. You want every inch of the place to pass the vibe check.”

“Agreed.”

“But not that,” she said, wiggling a finger at some uneven neon lighting.

“Why not?”

“I’m stone-cold sober, and it’s making me dizzy.”

“Alright,” I said. I personally liked that one, but it was a small compromise.

“Where are the plans for the bathroom?”

“The bathroom?”

“The women’s bathroom, in particular.”

“You care about the women’s bathroom more than the bar?” I asked, swiping over toward the mock-ups for that area.

“I do, and you should too. Do you have any idea how many selfies are going to be taken in there? How many pep talks are going to occur there? How many friendships will be formed, if only for the night? There is nothing more sacred than the women’s bathroom at a club.”

“I suddenly feel like I need to go back and redo the ones at all my other clubs.”

“You probably should. Here, give me that,” she said, ripping the tablet out of my hands and clicking around.

She was completely absorbed in her search.

So I went ahead and got lost in her.

The way her eyes squinted as she looked at images, how she nipped her lower lip with her teeth in concentration, the way her dark hair fell back from behind her ear.

My fingers itched to reach out, to touch the silky strands and tuck them back where they belonged.

My hand actually lifted.

Just when she announced, “There.”