Page 167 of Bridesmaid for Hire
“Thanks, my man.” I give Bowie a nod. I clear my throat. “So, what is my grand plan that will take Hopper Industries to the same level as, let’s say…Cane Enterprises?” Reginald sneers. “Easy.” I draw my hand across the sky. “Pop-up boutiques. Yes, you heard me right, fellas. The pop-up store. We’re going to take San Francisco’s empty storefronts by storm. We’re going to acquire them for a cheap rate because no one wants them anymore. Thanks to bankruptcy, we’re going to purchase low and aim high.” I punch my fist in the air to illustrate.
I pause once again, waiting for some sort of reaction, but all I’m met with is silence.
Tough crowd.
Straightening out my shirt again, I continue, “The idea is to transformthese spaces into rentable places for pop-up stores, offices, marketing opportunities, and so on. This will modernize a division of Hopper Industries while capitalizing on what’s trending, opening our doors to new marketing buzz with the ability to promote the space heavily on social media, and of course, help San Francisco’s economy by driving more business into the streets.”
Proudly, I rest my hands on my hips and look around.
“What do you think?”
Reginald flicks the ash off his cigar again and then leans forward. “I think it has zero potential to make more money than what the Devil’s Hangover is proposing.”
“Technically.” I hold up my finger and bow at the hip, suddenly grateful that the alcohol numbed me from the sting of his words. “I called herSatan’s Hangnail, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“Dad—” Hudson starts, but Reginald holds up his hand.
Trying not to fidget under his rejection, I say, “With all due respect, sir, but Satan’s Hangnail didn’t put any original thought into her project. She’s just tapping into an established billion-dollar industry.”
Reginald rubs his hand over his chin. “And do you think I’m not interested in profit? I might be in competition with the Canes, but I’m not about to just throw money away on a measly idea that has no merit.”
Ouch, but we’re not going to let that deter us. Nope, we’re going to plow forward, because if anything, alcohol gives you the false courage you need to make an ass of yourself.
“Oh, Daddy…I mean, sir. This is not a measly idea. This is the future of retail. No offense to you and your generation, but do you happen to spend time on social media? There are so many online businesses now that sell tons and tons of products. Their popularity grows, and they start doing pop-up shops. This has been happening all over New York and Los Angeles. San Francisco is naturally next.”
“That’s all you have? Pop-up shops?”
“No.” I shake my head and take a lap around the table, feeling everyone’s eyes on me as I move around. “The space will be versatile. It will have many options. Think of it as a blank canvas. Do with it what you will.”
“It’s not a billion-dollar industry, and that’s what it comes down to, McFadden. Your idea is mediocre and I’m not looking for mediocre.”
“Dad,” Hudson says again but Reginald stops him.
“And since you got what you wanted by coming here, you can leave now.” Reginald gestures to the door, but in my state of drunkenness and desperation, I hold my ground.
“Is that what you want? The billion-dollar wedding industry?” I ask, feeling myself sway.Oh boy, don’t fall over now, man.I casually lean against one of the walls, trying to come off as a pompous ass like Reginald, but I’m not sure it’s landing as I dimly notice Bowie and Jude giving me nervous side-eyes.
Should I shift my feet?
Cross one over the other?
Hmm, probably not the best idea, given my balance.
So I stick both of my hands in front of me and form a triangle like all of the tech dudes who give TED Talks.
Yeah, that’s it.
Now we’re running with fire…is that the term?
Cooking with fire.
“That’s what I’ve been saying, McFadden,” Reginald says, looking far too annoyed for my liking.
“Well, these spaces could be used for weddings too,” I say. “Like…uh…like apocket wedding.”
Reginald pauses and then takes a long puff of his cigar and then blows out the smoke. “A pocket wedding?”
“Yes. It’s where we use one of the small offices as a site for a wedding rather than one of Deanna’s large commercial spaces. The pocketwedding would be private, quaint, it’s more intimate than a busy courthouse, and the officiant comes with the room.” He scowls at me for a moment, and I have no clue what he’s thinking.I have no idea how I knew about it either.But I’m feeling quite impressed with myself.
