2. Mia #2
Yes, I can be flirty, but often it’s my confidence that comes off more as a threat than anything. Perhaps that’s why talking to Adam was more enjoyable. He seemed to match my confidence, but also didn’t feel like he was trying to talk down to me at the same time.
“Hi, so sorry I’m late.” As I reach the table, my dad stands with a hug, then pulls my chair out for me to sit.
“That’s okay. Did you have a productive meeting?” he asks, taking the seat across from me.
Productive? Without question.
Longer than it should have been? Yeah, very much so…but fun.
“I did. It’s for a large event, and we had a lot to cover.” I’ll mention who it’s for later. I want this conversation prioritized on the matter at hand, not the baseball team and their extremely hot catcher who’s helping organize it.
A proud smile comes to my dad’s face. “Well, that’s great. If you need any help on it, just let me know.”
While I know his offer is coming from a genuine place, I hold strong. There is no “I believe” or “I think” when it comes to talking to my parents. Especially with my father. You speak in respectful confidence only.
“I have it under control. Thank you, though.”
My mother—while still having the best intentions—is a bit more dramatic.
“Are you sure you want to take over Winedown, Mia? We’ve had offers from others wanting to buy this space. I know this was your grandfather’s passion project, but it doesn’t have to be yours.”
I know she doesn’t mean anything by it—she’s a worrier through and through with a bit of a doomsday first mentality.
She and my grandmother had the same wish for my grandfather—to not work once he retired. I get why she doesn’t have the same attachment to this place as I do, but I got through college by having this place as my sanctuary.
I mapped out a ten-year plan with my grandfather on napkins sitting at this bar, and owning this place was the last item we put on that timeline.
Deep breath. Calm and confident tone only. “I know that Winedown will be a huge undertaking. However, I am more than capable of running this business. More importantly, I want to do it.”
My mom lets out a hum. She’s not exactly sure how to handle her only daughter that got the drive and business mindset of both her father and grandfather. She’s supportive at her core, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t wish I was more of the trophy wife or PTA mom of the year like her.
“I’ve been operating as the owner of this bar for the past several months, not to mention working every single position for a whole year. I know this bar better than Dad at this point.”
She presses her lips into a thin line. “Let’s call it a restaurant, dear…I just don’t want you to feel overwhelmed by it. You know, if you decide you want to settle down and start a family, your father will handle selling the restaurant for you.”
My eye gives a small twitch, but I mask it well. It wasn’t that my grandparents had these strict ideologies that women had to stay in the home. My grandfather spoke highly about the work my grandmother did for him, their family, their home, and the community building she did.
My mother gravitated toward that lifestyle. She was—and still is—the best mom.
But I want both worlds. I know how to play the part of a lady in high society. I know the mannerisms, the politics that come with the families—I can organize the fundraisers and host a proper party. Every event I attended with my family, I came out being the daughter every mom wishes for.
But I also want to run a business, stand on my own two feet—alone. My parents are a safety net—a privilege—but I want to have this success on my own. Then one day, I’ll have a family and be the badass mom at the PTA meetings.
“She’s going to handle it just fine, dear.” My dad wraps an arm around my mom. “She does have a point. I may know business but Mia has gained the upper hand on this one.”
“I know I can do it and do it well,” I say, with my unwavering confidence radiating off me.
Dad tips his head in an approving nod. “We believe in you. Why don’t we eat then take a venture over the lawyer’s office? Make it official.”
A similar schoolgirl thrill travels up my spine as it did while talking to Adam. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Twelve hours later, I turn the lock of Winedown’s front door as the official owner. I spin around on my heels to my very favorite bartender, who’s pouring two glasses of champagne.
Jensen holds one out to me. “To Mia, who is officially liable for this place.”
I take the glass as I sit at the bar. “Here, here.” Raising it for a cheers first, then sending it all back. The bubbles feel a little harsh going down, shooting sparks of pain as I swallow.
I place my hand over my chest. Hell, this is why I never chug drinks.
Jensen snorts a laugh. “Damn, girl, I think a sip would have sufficed.”
“I know, but I think I needed it,” I say with strain in my voice. Clearing my throat, I slide my glass back to Jensen. “I’ll take one more to sip this time.”
Jensen pours with a cautious smile. “Everything okay? I thought you’d be excited. You’ve poured your heart into this place for the past year already.”
Taking the glass back I sip it slowly, looking at the bubbles going up to the top. “No, I’m great. I’m better than great, actually. I’ve wanted this for so long and it’s finally happening. I’m kind of afraid I’m dreaming a bit.”
“Want me to pinch you?” Jensen asks, taking a sip of her champagne.
“No.” I laugh. “I’m good. I’m just happy. Proud of myself, and as an overly confident person already, it’s kind of an odd feeling. I thought I’d always been proud of myself, but this one feels really, really deserved.”