Page 84 of The Good Girl Effect

Closing his door behind me, I walk into his office and have a seat in the chair across from him. Suddenly, I can’t stop thinking about what my mother said, about how I was the one with more motive to sabotage Julian and not the other way around. Have I been doing this unknowingly? Have I ever given a proper moment of actual dedication to this club?

Or did I curse it to fail immediately?

Julian and I are locked in a stare-down as he waits for me to speak. I’m not ready to have a heart-to-heart with him yet, and I still can’t stand the insolent brat, but it’s time we start defining what our priorities are.

I let out a deep sigh.

“You and I and every single person on this team want the club to do well. The problem is us,” I say.

He doesn’t move. Still as a statue, he glares at me. So I continue.

“We can dislike each other all we want, but we can’t keep letting them pay for it.”

“So the minute something goes wrong again, you can just throw me under the bus?” he replies flatly.

I have to clench my fists under the table to settle myself.

“We both failed this club, and we take the fall together.”

“Fine,” he admits, putting his feet on the floor. “What do you suggest?”

“We don’t open tonight,” I say, watching his brows lift in reaction. “In fact, we don’t open for the next four weeks.”

“Four weeks?” he shrieks. “You’re out of your mind.”

“We need to start fresh. Reinvest what little profits we have and give it one last shot.”

“After a whole year, you want to start freshnow?” he asks.

“It’s our last chance, isn’t it?”

“Do you even care?” he replies. “You’re leaving as soon as the year is up.”

“I do care,” I snap in return. “That’s why I’m here, sitting in your office, trying to come up with a plan to save this place before it’s too late. So are you in or not?”

My tone is impatient and annoyed. But I can tell by the look on his face that he’s at least listening to me.

“Okay, so we close down for four weeks. Then what?” he asks.

“We redesign everything. We’ll bring the team in and do it right. We have to stop treating this like a place to party and turn it into something we can be proud of. A club with class and integrity.”

He rolls his eyes. “You just want to recreate Salacious. Then let them buy it and do it themselves.”

I shake my head. “No, I want something better.”

He shoots me an unimpressed look. “How on earth will you do that?”

“We’re in Paris, Julian. The fucking City of Love. The most goddamn romantic city on the planet. Our club should reflect that. We can bring in people from all over the world and stop treating our club like a place where local people come to get drunk and laid. But we have to do it together.”

He stares at me, and although there’s no real expression on his face, I can see him mulling over the idea. The fact thathe’s not shutting it down or replying with some quippy, cutting remark means that he’s excited about it.

Without responding, he reaches into his drawer. I wait as he pulls out a pad of paper, a couple pens, and then a bottle of whiskey.

“It’s a little early to start drinking,” I say, peering down at the two glasses he placed on the desk.

He pours a significant amount into each. “We’re going to need something to take the edge off. Otherwise, I’m afraid we might kill each other before this meeting is over.”

With a shake of my head, I reach for the glass and take a sip. I mean, he’s not wrong.