Big Dick Energy - Cindi Madsen Page 0,35

get ejected, at least they’ll spend more money first, and it’ll add a funny story to tell later. But some of the people attending choke down beer because there are no other options. I’ll go ahead and say it… I’m one of those people. I love nachos as much as the next sports fan, but I’d rather chase that jalapeno cheesy goodness with whiskey or tequila. Does that mean I’m not a real fan? Of course not. Half of marketing and branding is about people’s assumptions anyway.”

Ordinarily, I’d let Archer give whatever spiel he’d opened his mouth to give, but in the past, that’d led to people assuming I didn’t have my own ideas, and I was only halfway through my point, anyway. “Mr. Avila, could I venture a guess about the car you drive?”

His salt and pepper eyebrows drew together. “Go ahead.”

“Definitely a Lexus Sedan. IS or ES?”

Mario’s face lit up. “The ES.”

“Ah,” I said. “With its eight-speed transmission and 203 horsepower, you can’t go wrong. And the hybrids get such good mileage.” I lifted a hand to my mouth as if I might’ve spoken too soon. “Did you get the hybrid?”

He clutched at the sides of his charcoal suit coat. “Of course. Just because I’m older doesn’t mean I don’t care about global warming.”

“Older? You’re older?” I flashed him a smile, letting my neon pink lipstick do the rest of the talking. “If I’m being honest, I knew you’d be a hybrid man.”

If I were being brutally honest, I’d push them to go green by installing automation building controls and incorporating solar and wind power. But that was a fight for after I’d won the blueprint battle.

“Councilwoman Roberts, I’ve seen your Audi, so guessing yours would just be cheating. As for you, Scott…” I tapped a finger to my lip. Jaguar or Porsche? “While your dad favored rare and classic, I’m guessing that, like the way you do business, you honor the classics while taking advantage of current-day technology while being able to blow everyone else in the dust.”

I’d done a bit of fishing on that last part, as it’d be a compliment even if it ended up being a swing and a miss. The slight curve of his lips hinted I was on the right track. “Perhaps a Spyder—no, make that a Ferrari. V12. GTC or Superfast.”

Three jaws dropped, and a side glance at Archer revealed it was actually four.

“Color me impressed,” Scott said. “I drive the 812 Superfast. How’d you do that?”

I tapped the side of my nose. “I have a sixth sense when it comes to cars.” Thanks to growing up in a luxury car garage. I spent the first decade of my life by the side of my mechanic father, who taught me about how engines worked before he ever mentioned the birds and the bees.

Unexpected emotion clogged my throat. He’d passed away when I was thirteen, and I’d gone from a daddy’s girl to a mother’s disappointment. I sometimes felt like she not only resented having to raise me the rest of the way, but also that Dad hadn’t done a better job. According to her, anyway, as those were my best childhood memories.

At the light touch on my elbow, I turned and met Archer’s gray-blue eyes. “If you’ve finished with your idea, I’d like to pose another question.” He hadn’t interrupted, yet his statement also rubbed me the wrong way. Perhaps because his callused fingertips rubbed the right way.

“Feel free.” I made a sweeping motion allowing him the floor, the gesture coming off rather magnanimous if I did say so myself.

“While I get what Penelope is saying, I’m afraid she’s not considering all of the complications that come along with offering more. It’s why In-N-Out sticks to a simple menu.”

Simple? Was that a jab at me? I’d admitted to being complicated in confidence! A preventative measure I shouldn’t have taken, as that implied he and I would ever have anything to measure. How dare he invoke the holiest of burger joints in all of California to sell his idea. Time to use that against him. “There’s a secret menu for those in the know, though.”

“Exactly,” he said, and although Archer was nice enough not to call me on the fact that I’d accidently interrupted the tiniest bit, I pressed my mouth into a tight line, getting the sneaking suspicion I’d also been baited. “Don’t offer general admission the fancier options, which will complicate things for vendors. Instead, we add extra suites and