but they are ridiculously highbrow in their approach to the food industry. They’re also crazy.
I have no desire to serve people who think it’s reasonable to spend two thousand dollars on a burger. I don’t care if God himself blessed the freaking cow and then dusted it in edible gold.
“Have they seen this place yet?” Paul asks.
“Uh no, they haven’t.” And if I can prevent it, I’m hoping they won’t ever manage to make the trip out here to my “little cupcake shop.” They chose their side the day it became clear they were more concerned with the success of their business and keeping star chef Raphael happy than with my own broken heart. At least I’d gotten my trip to France out of the deal.
While I’ve been lost in my head, thinking about my family, Daphne and Paul have been chatting. Paul reaches over and pinches my arm, almost causing me to spill my martini on my dress. “Ow! What the hell?”
“Did you hear anything Daphne just said?” He gives me a look.
“Sorry, I was thinking. What’d I miss?”
“You know Tori Taylor the famous YouTuber?” Daphne asks.
“Sure. What about her?” I know the very vaguest basics about Tori. She has an insane number of subscribers and has made a career out of “Best of” videos. Last year alone she put at least ten small businesses on the map. The second she promotes something, thousands of people are right there, buying whatever it is, or going to whatever location she deems popular. She has incredible influence.
“Check this out.” Daphne hands me her phone so I can watch the video she has cued up. Tori appears on the screen, makeup on point, looking stunning as usual, name dropping the brands she’s currently wearing, citing the discount code you can use to get the same look/purse/shirt/shoes before she pans out to show her viewers the cool interior of her favorite local bar in LA.
“I’ve been coming here since I was legal to drink.” She winks. “Every time I come home this is the place I go to meet up with friends. It has the perfect ambiance. It’s quirky, cool and has the most amazing drinks.” She goes on to talk about the special cocktail she’s currently drinking, and her love of jalapeño-infused margaritas. “So it got me thinking, I have this road trip coming up and I need to know where the best bars are in the Pacific Northwest. What are the funkiest places, the ones with the best drink menus, the coolest vibe, the best food between San Francisco and Seattle? I want the bars that have it all. Drop your nominations in the comments and make sure you link their social media so I can check them out! And don’t forget to use the hashtag ‘toritaylorbestbars!’ Maybe your favorite bar will be a stop on my road trip! And best of all, the winner will not only be featured on my channel, but I’ve made a deal with the Food and Drink network to showcase the best bar! Check my site for more details!” She makes a heart with her hands, kissy lips the screen, winks and signs off.
“You have to enter this!” Daphne declares. “We need to get everyone we know to nominate Buttercream and Booze for best bar! Can you even imagine how amazing it would be for business if you were featured on Tori’s channel, let alone on Food and Drink?”
“It could make your career.” Paul starts scrolling through the comments. “This video has been up for an hour and there are thousands of nominations. What’s the name of the pub next door?”
“The Knight Cap,” Daphne and I say at the same time.
“It’s already in here a bunch of times.” Paul shows me his phone.
“Of course it is.” I roll my eyes. “I’m sure Lumberjerk held everyone at axe point until they gave him a raving review.”
Daphne slides her chair closer, pulls up The Knight Cap’s social media and starts comparing our social media posts, because that’s her specialty. I’m getting better at staging photos, but since Daphne is still building her portfolio, she’s happy to give me advice when I need it.
“You have twice as many followers as The Knight Cap. And your posts are way prettier. Although, I have to admit, the Lumberjerk isn’t hard to look at.”
Paul makes a face. “Man, this guy wears a lot of plaid.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “Yes! Exactly! Every freaking day it’s plaid, plaid, and