serving drinks. The top tier racks were full, overflowing onto the ones below. “It’s called Cosmo’s. It’s in a great area and the prior owner ran the place phenomenally. The neighboring businesses are rising and the climate is well-to-do, but not fussy. Right now the place is set up to serve wine, liquor, coffee, sushi, and what one might consider ‘bar food,’ though you could really change the menu however you wanted it once you got settled. So…what do you think? It’s perfect, right?”
“What the hell, Drake?” Emelia’s chest seized. This wasn’t what she wanted. “We’ve been bonded for what, an hour? You’re buying me property already? What were you thinking?”
She spun around, absorbing every glowingly irritating detail in the room. Bright-pink illuminated martini glasses perched over the mirror behind the bar, matching the decals on the walls on the front and sides of the room. The espresso machine gurgled, matching the souring in her middle.
“I purchased it last week and got a hell of a deal,” he said proudly. He folded his arms and leaned over the bar. “Emelia, I saw the profits and losses for the Knight Owl. People from Wilder Financial have researched other businesses on the street. I know you’ve put your heart and soul into that place, but I just don’t see it working.”
She chuckled exasperatedly, though what she really wanted to do was rip the martini glass off the wall and slam it against Drake’s head so he’d listen to what she’d been saying for the past few weeks. “So you thought you’d just sell my bar before it goes under completely, and have me manage this one instead?”
“It’d be a smart business move to sell it, Emie,” he said, coming around the bar to stand beside her. He draped his arm over her shoulder and gazed at the exposed rafters as if it was some kind of majestic painting. “Look at this place—the mirrors, the various food and drink bars, the options for customers. It’s exactly what people want.”
“It’s exactly what yuppies want!” she yelled, coming apart inside. “This place has zero personality.”
“That’s not true. Look, there’s a poster of Marilyn Monroe over there.”
“Yeah, I see her.” Emelia chomped on her bottom lip. “I also see the velvet zebra-stripe frame she’s stuck in. Come on, Drake, seriously? If this isn’t a joke, I’m going to kill you where you stand.”
Removing his arm from around her shoulder, Drake took a step back. “Listen, I know you’re holding on to the Knight Owl because you put so much time and money into the place and it’s hard to let go of a sour investment, but you’ve got to look at this from a purely business standpoint. This move makes sense.”
“It makes sense for who, Drake?” Brazen annoyance licked through her insides, heating her skin until she thought she’d combust. “For you?”
He slapped his hands against his sides. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I don’t want to run just any ole bar in Seattle, Drake. I want my bar.”
“This is your bar now too, except this one is going to succeed.”
Emelia flinched. That one stung. “If I did want another bar, which I don’t, I’d want one with color and depth and warmth. One that stands out from the crowd, built in a historic building with newspaper clippings on the wall. I’d want a bar that’s different, with a unique feel. This one feels cold, like it has no heart at all.”
His expression hardened. “Then take it over and add your usual Emelia flair to it. Make it your own. At least the business is already thriving so you won’t have to struggle the way you are now. You would have the money to step in and change it to make it fit whatever you want.”
“You don’t get it.” She couldn’t breathe in this place. Her chest was tight, her throat constricting. She backed away, closer to the exit and farther from Drake. “I want my bar because I clawed and fought my way to get it. I want it because I built it on my own, from the ground up. Because of all I’ve done for the place, I have a greater sense of pride when I see it do well, or when I see a good review of it online. No one can take that joy away from me.”
“Your buddy Needles took it away easy enough.”
“You ass.” She stormed him, standing on tiptoe to stare into his smoldering brown eyes. “How dare you throw that