—I'm Number One—
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JENNIE
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Things heat up with my neighbor post–grand opening. A little not-quite-friendly competition, so to speak. Things like, when Lisa has a special, I try to make mine better. On Friday night I hand out two-for-one cocktail coupons to combat her half-price draft beer and house wine. Everyone knows that house wine is the cheap crappy stuff.
So what if the two-for-one martinis aren't made with the premium vodka? They're also full of things like crème de cacao and other sweet, minty, chocolaty, or fruity booze and juice, so it hides the taste and does the trick.
Twentysomething-year-old guys might not mind cheap draft beer, but most women in their late twenties would much rather sip a pretty martini over a cheap glass of wine any day of the week. How do I know this? I polled my followers, of course.
And don't think Lisa is an innocent. Her prankster ways continue—this week I stepped in what I believed was poop—again—but it just happened to be poop-shaped Play-Doh. It also contained sparkles, which I got on my hands and which subsequently were all over everything I own for the next three days.
In addition to the fake sparkle poop, Lisa has taken to dropping off a daily coupon for me, except they're modified to whatever it is she's been serving to customers that day. She always includes some kind of tongue-in-cheek comment about what she regards as my less-than-friendly personality. I am friendly. Just not with her. Today's coupon was for half-priced salt-and-vinegar fish and chips and some honey lager—which I hate to admit sounds kind of yummy. She scrawled a note on the back about drawing more flies with honey than vinegar.
Two weeks in, and things are going well on the business end. Better than well, actually. We're busy throughout the day, we have orders for pickup and takeout all the time, the cupcakes are flying off the shelves and people love our daily cupcake cocktail themes. My social media feeds are full of tags and picture perfect photos of BB, of groups of friends gathered together in the café, and of delighted smiles and rave reviews.
Even so, I'm barely eking by right now. On the upside, I'm close to being able to cover my expenses without digging too deeply into my line of credit. Am I eating a lot of leftover cupcakes and close-to-the-expiration-date sandwiches that would otherwise be destined for the garbage? Most definitely. But I knew finances were going to be tough at the beginning.
It can take up to three years for a business to grow its legs and with the way things are looking, there is a chance I'll be able to turn a profit within the next few years. Notwithstanding an annoying neighbor who is taking some of my business.
"This is amazing. You must be on top of the world right now!" Rosé sips her salted caramel martini while scrolling through the Instagram feed.
The last customer left about twenty minutes ago, probably heading next door for whatever Lumberjerk has planned for tonight. I closed up shop and made us a drink and now we're relaxing at the back of the café, stretched out on the comfy couches and chairs.
Rosé snaps a photo of me lounging on the couch and Yoshi returns from the bathroom in time to peek over her shoulder. "Definitely post that."
"Right? It'll get tons of likes," Rosé agrees.
Yoshi comes by first thing in the mornings to drop off the cupcakes for the day, giving me plenty of time to decorate them before opening. But tomorrow he has an out of town event, so he dropped everything off this evening and I convinced him to stay for a drink. There's no way I could've made this work without his help and I'm eternally grateful for his friendship over the past several years.
I wait for Rosé to pass her camera over. "Can I at least see it before you post it? What if I look like a shrew?"
"As if I would post a bad picture of you." Rosé is appropriately offended; she and I have spent a ridiculous amount of time perfecting posed photos over the past several weeks.
I hold my hands up in supplication. "I know. It's a conditioned response. I got a message earlier in the week from my sister telling me she thinks my right side is more flattering."
Rosés lip curls in disdain. "I hope you told her to suck it."
"It's her way of trying to be helpful."
"It's her way of being a bitch," Rosé argues.
I shrug. Jisoo is pretty much always a bitch. I've spent my entire life dealing with her, so her random comments are nothing in comparison to some of her other antics.
"Anyway, the only time I've seen you possess shrewlike qualities was when you and Raphael broke up," Rosé continues.
I glare at her. "We do not talk about Raphael."
"Raphael? How come I've never heard of this guy?" Yoshi asks.
"You have. He's more commonly known as The Douche."
"Oh. You mean the guy who was boning you and three other chefs at the same time?" Yoshi drops into the chair beside mine.
"The one and only. And can we not discuss him, please? It was years ago, before you came along and made me realize there's more to life than kobe beef and truffle fries. Unlike you, he was more interested in showing me his bratwurst than he was in teaching me anything of value." I pat Yoshi on the arm. One of the things I appreciate most about Yoshi is the fact that our relationship has always been strictly professional and platonic. Which was what I needed after the nightmare that was Raphael.
"Back when you were still trying to please Mummy and Daddy." He takes a swig of his Manhattan.
"Those days are long gone." I take another, deeper sip of my martini. It's more like a gulp. I love my family, 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?" Yoshi 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, Rosé and Yoshi have been chatting. Yoshi reaches over and pinches my arm, almost causing me to spill my martini on my dress. "Ow! What the hell?"
"Did you hear anything Rosé just said?" He gives me a look.
"Sorry, I was thinking. What'd I miss?"
"You know Tori Taylor the famous YouTuber?" Rosé 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." Rosé 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!" Rosé 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." Yoshi 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 Manoban Cap," Rosé and I say at the same time.
"It's already in here a bunch of times." Yoshi shows me his phone.
"Of course it is." I roll my eyes. "I'm sure Lumberjerk held everyone at axe point until they gave her a raving review."
Rosé slides her chair closer, pulls up The Manoban 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 Rosé is still building her portfolio, she's happy to give me advice when I need it.
"You have twice as many followers as The Manoban Cap. And your posts are way prettier. Although, I have to admit, the Lumberjerk isn't hard to look at."
Yoshi makes a face. "Man, this girl wears a lot of plaid."
I throw my hands up in the air. "Yes! Exactly! Every freaking day it's plaid, plaid, and more plaid!"
"Well that's the uniform over there, isn't it?" Rosé says.
"Don't defend the plaid."
Rosé shrugs. "It kinda works for her, though."
"You're supposed to be on my side!"
"I am on your side, but I'm also allowed to appreciate a hottie, and this girl is smokin', with or without the plaid. I will say, though, it's clear that she doesn't have a professional helping her with this. All of these pictures are candid and based on the number of selfies from the bartender I'm going to hazard a guess that he's the one posting most of this stuff." Rosé shows me an image of a younger guy, smirking at the camera while Lisa pours a pint in the background.
"Let's hope they don't hire anyone then, because I'd like to keep the social media leg up on her. And hot or not, we need to do better than the whole axe-throwing thing she's got going on over there."
"Mmm, it's a double draw, isn't it? Hot guys and axe throwing in a college town is high on the yes-please scale."
As if they can hear us talking through the wall—which they can't, the plywood is thick and the music is loud enough that the low thump of bass makes the floor vibrate—a thud, followed by shouts of approval and some muffled chanting, makes all of us jump. "Someone hit the target." And based on the chanting, it was the resident Lumberjerk.
Rosé taps her lip with a manicured nail. "You know what we need to do?"
"Steal all of the axes and break off the handles?" Yoshi suggests.
"Axes can be replaced and theft isn't a good way to get ahead. We need to fight axes with cupcakes." Rosé makes a face and waves that comment away. "What I mean is that we should roll the cupcake-drink theme into events."
"You want to have a salted caramel event?" I ask.
"No. Well, yes. Kind of. Like we come up with different theme nights to draw in new customers the same way we have theme cupcakes and drinks every day. We need something buzz-worthy that's going to help us get more nominations."
"Okay. So what can we do that's better than axe throwing? And I don't want to do something that's super dangerous." The last thing I want is someone chopping off a vital body part. I can barely handle a paper cut without getting woozy.
"We could hold a cupcake-decorating contest. Winner gets a fifty-dollar gift card? That way the money goes back into Buttercream and Booze."
"Ooooh! I like this. That could be super fun."
"Exactly!" Rosé agrees. "I don't know that we need to try to compete with The Manoban Cap. Your clientele is during the day and into the evening, where Lumberjerk caters to the evening and late night crowd. So I think we need to focus on what attracts people here and what we can do to keep them entertained for as long as possible."
"Okay, so we need to poll our customers and find out what other kinds of events they'd be interested in. Karaoke is always a winner, and trivia nights are super fun. I always loved a good poetry slam night back when I was in college."
Yoshi scoffs.
I cross my arms. "What? Poetry slams are fun."
Yoshi cocks a brow. "I'm sure for you they are."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You look like a cross between a librarian and a fifties pinup girl. The fact that poetry slams excite you isn't even a remote surprise."
"Whatever. You just wait, my poetry slam nights are going to make axe throwing seem like a trip on a snooze cruise."
"Gettin' your rhyme on already?" Rosé smirks.
"It must be the booze."
They chuckle and groan.
"But seriously, when it comes to poetry slams, I never lose."
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