33. Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter thirty-three
I take a deep breath and smooth my dress, surveying the scene before me. Aria's is buzzing with activity, every table filled with potential investors sampling hors d'oeuvres and sipping mocktails. Soft music drifts through the open windows, mingling with the sound of waves crashing on the beach just outside.
I weave through the crowd, pausing to chat and joke with guests, encouraging them to try the booze-free feature of the day, my own special concoction called the Tropical Breeze. It's a blend of mango, pineapple, coconut water and mint, topped with a hibiscus flower. The reactions are all positive so far, with many going back for seconds.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice one man frowning into his untouched glass. I make my way over and introduce myself. "Hi there, I'm Aria. Are you enjoying the Tropical Breeze?"
The man scoffs. "Mocktails. Are they really a thing? I wouldn't think there'd be much business for something like that."
I laugh lightly. "You'd be surprised. People are looking for healthier options these days. And the great thing about these is they can be just as fun and flavorful as traditional cocktails, without the alcohol. We want every guest, no matter what they choose to drink, to feel welcome and valued here."
I can tell he's still skeptical. Time to turn on the charm. I gesture to the woman beside him. "This must be your lovely wife. She's vegetarian, right?"
"Pesky is more like it," the man grumbles.
"Pescatarian, dear," his wife corrects gently. "I do still eat fish."
"That's right, my mistake." I flash an understanding smile at the wife before turning back to the stubborn potential investor. "Well, think of it like this. Imagine taking your wife out to a nice restaurant, but the only veggie option is some sad side salad or rubbery tofu. Meanwhile, your steak and potatoes looks amazing. She'd feel pretty overlooked, right?"
The man nods slowly. "Yeah, okay, I get your point. She'd hate that." He glances at her. "In fact, I'd never hear the fucking end of it."
She slaps him on the arm. "Oh, Steven. Don't be an asshole in front of company. Save that for when we're home by ourselves."
I try to avoid their awkward banter, pretending I didn't hear it. "Exactly. Here at Aria's, we want to make every guest feel special and accounted for. That's how you provide a true oasis from the stresses of everyday life." I lift my glass. "So give the mocktail another try. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."
The man sniffs his drink and takes a tentative sip. His eyebrows raise in surprise. "Huh. That's actually pretty damn good." He takes a longer draw from the straw, nodding in satisfaction. "In fact, I wouldn't mind having something like this instead of a stiff drink after work once in a while."
I grin and wink at Devon and Dom who are seated at the bar and saw the whole interaction go down. Their smiles tell me they knew I could win him over. With the right balance of charm, wit and understanding, even the toughest critics can be swayed… one opinionated asshole at a time. And that personal touch is what will make Aria's a smashing success.
I make my way through the mingling guests, checking on the passed hors d'oeuvres and mocktails. So far everything seems to be going smoothly. The servers are gracious and attentive, the food delicious and artfully presented. Twinkling lights and tiki torches cast a warm glow over the scene. I breathe in the heady sea air, taking a moment to soak it all in.
This dream made real—my very own restaurant and oasis by the sea. All the years of hard work and sacrifice have led me here. Whatever happens with the investors tonight, I'm proud of what I've built. I don't need them, per se—I've saved enough to be able to make this one hundred percent mine. But my ambition means an injection of cash from investors would help me make my dreams come true at a faster rate.
A commotion from the kitchen area catches my attention. Raised voices filter out from the back. I hurry over, a knot forming in my stomach.
Pushing through the doors, I'm met with a shocking sight. Two of my newest hires, tipsy and half undressed, are making out in the walk-in cooler. Bottles and trays are knocked over, my meticulously prepared food strewn on the floor.
Rage wells up inside me. How could they sabotage this important night with their carelessness? I storm over and yank them apart.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I yell. They stare back sheepishly. "The guests out there have entrusted me with an important decision tonight. Your actions could ruin everything!"
I point angrily at the back door. "You're done here. I'm calling you an Uber. Go home and sober up before you cause any more problems."
They scurry out, their heads hung in shame. I start cleaning up their mess, my blood boiling. It's hard to find good help these days when it comes to hospitality workers, and this behavior is nothing new. I'll deal with them later. For now, the night must go on.
With the kitchen chaos handled, I take a deep breath to collect myself before heading back out to the dining area. The investors are sequestered in the restaurant's private dining room to discuss their verdict on funding my business.
I pace back and forth, my nerves fraying as the minutes tick by. If they don't enjoy their experience, even though I might not technically need their financing, these people are exceptionally well connnected in the hospitality community, and their word of mouth could do untold damage.
Trying to stay calm, I run through possible scenarios in my head. Maybe they want me to tweak the concept or menu before committing. I could work with that. As long as they believe in me enough to invest in some capacity.
The door opens and the investors file back into the main dining room. I hold my breath, bracing for their response.
The head investor steps forward, face unreadable. "We've reached a decision," he announces. "We need to face that the market here is saturated. Not many restaurants are able to withstand the competition or the constraints of doing business on an island with the associated food costs."
My heart sinks, but before I give up entirely with my dreams shattered, the man continues. "However, we see real potential in you and this concept. Gone are the days when tourists are satisfied with a chain restaurant being replicated from the mainland. People visiting these islands want something different, new, exciting—without pushing it too far."
Hope flares in my chest, my stomach un-contorting itself.
"We want to move forward with a substantial investment. One that will allow you to grow this business faster than you imagined."
Relief washes over me. We did it! My team exchanges excited looks as I shake hands with the investors. The future is bright for my little oasis by the sea.
I'm floating on a wave of euphoria when a worrying thought hits me—what if the investors want creative control? My concept is deeply personal. The menu carefully crafted. I can't let anyone compromise that. There must be a catch.
As the investors discuss logistics, I interrupt. "Before this goes further, I need to know I'll retain full creative control. The concept, the menu— that's non-negotiable."
The head investor looks surprised, then laughs. "Of course! We're just here to support you financially. This is your vision—we'd never dream of stifling that."
I exhale in relief. We're on the same page.
"I can't wait to see what you dream up next," he continues with a wink. "Just save a table for us—this place is going to be the hottest spot in town, and just like you, we need a fantastic venue because we have our own investors to impress! Although, from what you've showed us tonight, they'll all be thrilled that this establishment is part of our portfolio."
The investors depart in high spirits, leaving me to debrief with my team. We did it. The future is ours. With the shrewd business sense I've honed over the years, and the unwavering support of my men behind the scenes, success is inevitable.
My oasis will flourish. A haven by the sea for all who need an escape. And the perfect cover for all our other 'business ventures' in this town.
The thrill of victory courses through me.
I gather Florian, Dimitri, and Josef in my office after the investors depart. We're all still riding the high of success.
"We did it!" I exclaim, pulling them in for a celebratory embrace. Their strong arms wrap around me, enveloping me in their warmth.
"You were amazing out there," Florian says, pride in his voice. "They didn't stand a chance against your charm and wit."
"Couldn't have done it without you three backing me up," I reply. "You give me the strength I need."
Dimitri grins wolfishly. "Soon this whole city will be ours. The restaurant is the perfect front for our other operations."
Josef nods in agreement. "With these investors on board, we'll have the capital to expand quickly."
I smile, reveling in our shared anticipation. The thrill of gaining power and influence here energizes me.
"It's nice to know we have them on our side, but that we don't truly need them," I say. "For once, we have the upper hand. And we intend to use it wisely...in more ways than one."
My men's eyes darken with desire at the promise in my words.
The night is still young, and we have much to celebrate.