“OK, so the whole idea is—”
“No.” Martin slices another lemon in half. “Not a chance in hell.”
“I haven’t even started my pitch,” I say defensively. “You can’t hate an idea you haven’t heard.”
“And you can’t pitch a business idea to a man like Carter Banks by saying The whole idea is.” He makes his voice soft and breathy when he repeats my words. “You also can’t do it sitting at a counter with a half-empty mimosa in front of you.”
“So, one, I don’t sound like that, and two”—I down the rest of my mimosa—“my drink was half-full.”
“You need to take this seriously, Banks. I don’t offer the opportunity for someone to zest my lemons to just anyone. Try it again, but this time make me want to read more. You’re a writer. Tell me a story that I don’t want to put down.”
“You’re making me nervous.” I push in my barstool. “And if you’re making me nervous, how the hell am I going to be able to do this in front of my father?”
Martin puts the lemon down and rinses his hands. He strides over to the breakfast table and takes a seat at the head of it.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “We’re supposed to be making pie.”
“No pie is being made until you pitch me.” He folds his arms across his chest. “Your dream is more important than any pie.”
“You greatly underestimate how Southern my family is.”
“You wouldn’t have come here in the first place if you didn’t think you at least had a shot,” he says. “You’re scared, and I get it. Your dad is a force to be reckoned with, but so are you. So pitch me. Pitch me, and if it stinks, I’ll tell you.”
My pitch might stink, but the concept doesn’t. The concept is solid. I might not have the brains for business like Phoebe does, but we’ve done our research. Between Jackie, Chelsey, and me, we’re going to make this bookstore happen. In fact, we’re going to do more than make sure it happens. We’re going to make it succeed.
“Tell me the three places you spend the most time in, other than your home.” I take my place at the end of the table opposite Martin.
An intrigued smile takes shape on his lips. “Let’s see . . . I go to the gym a few times a week. There’s a sports bar not far from my place that I get dinner at most nights, and I visit a local camping store by my office at least three or four times a month.”
“OK. So, you go to the gym to work out, and the sports bar to eat. Right?”
“That’s right, Sherlock.”
“Does that mean you go to the camping store three or four times a month because you camp that frequently?”
“No.” A puzzled look forms on his face. “I don’t have the time to camp that often.”
“Why go, then?”
“Uh, well, I guess it’s because I like it there. I like to see what new stuff they’ve gotten in since my last visit. I like talking to the store manager and a couple of the clerks. It’s got a good atmosphere.” His eyes lock with mine. The light bulb inside his head starts to burn a little brighter as he follows the mental breadcrumbs I’ve left in front of him. “I go there because it’s the one place I can talk to other people who are into camping the way I am.”
“And even though big box stores carry camping supplies at a cheaper price, you probably would still rather go to the locally owned place because it feels like—”
“Home.” His eyes light up. “I go there because I’m not just buying a product. I’m part of a community.”
“And if this locally owned place had events from time to time, would you go to them?” I bite back a smile. “For instance, if there was a knot-tying class, would you sign up?”
“Ma’am, I wouldn’t sign up for it. I’d teach it.”
“And share it on your TikTok? Or whatever other social media you might have to help market the class and get the word out?”
“Banks, have you been stalking me?” His voice is low and gravelly and makes me feel a little melty inside.
“I’m in the middle of a pitch, Butler.” I lean across the table. “Please save your personal questions for the end of the presentation.”
“All right. Continue.”
“Creating an intimate place where people can gather to connect over a shared interest is the goal of our bookstore. Just like your local camping store is a place that you look forward to visiting regardless of whether you plan on camping anytime soon, our bookstore will be the same for hundreds, if not thousands, of romance readers and writers. In addition to offering a wide selection of books and bookish merch, we’ll also feature guest authors, book clubs, and classes for romance writers to take to improve their craft. We won’t just be in the business of selling books. We’ll be in the business of building a community.” I pause, my heart racing. “Because that’s what books are made for. They’re made to connect you to people, real or fictional, even when you feel like you’re completely alone.”