I have a girlfriend.
In fact, I’ve actually had a girlfriend for over two weeks now, and that sentence still sounded crazy to me every time it rolled through my head. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with Tyler—I absolutely did—but I hadn’t expected a serious commitment in the relationship department anytime soon. Not with how hard I was focusing on bringing the business to a place where it would be ready to open.
The burst pipe had set us back, which was actually quite devastating. I’d been hoping we’d be able to coincide our opening with DC Pride Weekend, but with the additional repairs and construction time, we were not going to make that deadline. Instead, we were looking at squeaking out an opening by the end of June instead, possibly early July.
Not the end of the world, and Isa still had me running ragged with marketing and PR work around Pride Month to get people in the area aware of the upcoming opening. DC Pride, Arlington Pride, Alexandria Pride, Prince William County Pride…everywhere around here had their own celebration, and I was there with flyers and a team of friends making sure everyone knew that our bar was coming.
The Dirty Derby was no longer the name, however. Sad face.
Tyler had been pushing hard for a name that better represented what we wanted to do with this space, embracing queerness and acceptance of all people—and then she also added that it should make a nod to me. Well, that was hard to argue, because anything named after me was destined for good luck.
And so KiKi: Cuts & Cocktails was born.
Ki standing in for my last name, Kiani, and kiki being a slang phrase that meant casually kicking it back—so it worked on multiple levels. I already had a cocktail menu that was ready to slay with drink names like Amaretto Aftercare, Hard (Seltzer) Limits, and Tequila Therapy.
“I don’t think this plug is working,” Isa said to me as she gently put the neon sign she had been holding back down on the ground. She gestured to an outlet by the front window of the bar with the sign’s electrical cord trailing from it. “I can’t get it to light up the sign.”
I walked over and tried unplugging it and plugging it back in myself as if my singular touch would yield different results. “Yeah, this one must be broken.”
“I mean, I just told you that, Yas,” Isa replied, shaking her head as she headed over to the long bar across the back wall—thankfully, construction was complete on that entire section, and we’d already begun racking bottles up on the shelves. “I’m taking an interior decorator break since…you know, I’m not an interior decorator.”
Making a mental note to call an electrician about that outlet, I followed Isa over to the bar. “I really appreciate all your help getting things set up. We have a long way to go, but the end of the month is going to be here sooner than we realize.”
Isa pulled out her phone and began scrolling as she sat herself in one of our new bar stools. “Speaking of, we need to finalize the content calendar for your social media leading up to the opening. Did you get my email with the proposed images and captions?”
I joined her at the next stool. “Yeah, but the hashtags and keywords part had me confused.”
“Let me worry about those,” Isa said with a wave of her hand. “The interns on our marketing team are geniuses at all of that—Gen Z knows what they’re doing when it comes to cultivating a social media presence.”
“Okay, but what about the videos?” I asked. “Kari’s helping me make some TikTok videos, but we’re barely getting any traction. I think our last video had two hundred views and that was it.”
“The TikTok algorithm is a beast,” Isa confirmed. “Again, we’ll work on all of that. You just need to get me content—videos of before/after renovations, you talking about the business, Tyler doing like literally anything, and then whatever else you think a consumer would want to see. Maybe a few cocktail recipe videos or a behind-the-bar-scenes video?”
I nodded, because I’d already started working on that. As an elder millennial, I had grown up on AOL chat rooms and MySpace coding. If it wasn’t in my Top 8, then I didn’t know shit about it. I’d had a lot of extra time the last few years, however, with both my last business failing and a pandemic trapping me inside for several years so I’d tried to brush up on all things social media in that time frame.
“Oh, and one last request,” Isa added, this time placing her phone down on the bar top.
I looked at her because Isa not holding that damn device was a rare moment. “What?”
She leaned back in her seat and crossed one of her knees over the other. “I think you and Tyler need to go public.”
My eyes probably looked like they were bugging out of my face, but I quickly reinserted them into my skull. “Public with what?”
Isa tilted her head to the side and gave me a no-nonsense look. “You two are clearly dating, and she’s an investor in this place. Her podcast fame will bring people in the door. In fact, I think you should ask her to consider hosting a live podcast recording on opening weekend that is a ticketed event only. People will be blowing up the website trying to snag one, and we’ll keep it small enough to feel exclusive but big enough to make a splash. People will then crowd in on the off hours just to get a glimpse of her or even just to say they were there.”
A live recording event on opening weekend actually didn’t sound like a terrible idea, and I was pretty sure Tyler would be on board with that one.
I nodded. “So just announce her as an investor? I’ll ask her if she wants to, but she did already agree to give it a free advertising spot on the podcast this month and next. I don’t want to ask too much more.”
“Not just her being an investor,” Isa continued. “Announcing her being your girlfriend. She is your girlfriend, isn’t she?”
“We, uh—” I cleared my throat. “We did recently decide to put labels on things.”
Isa wiggled her brows, and her mouth split wide into a grin like the Cheshire Cat. “That would literally be perfect, because then Kiki could get an exclusive on the news.”
“Tyler isn’t really out out,” I reminded her. “You should know that. You’re the one who listens to her podcast.”
“She’s not not out, though,” Isa countered. “It’s like the worst kept secret—everyone knows, and she just hasn’t confirmed. You could be her confirmation! Kiki could be the epicenter of all of it. The Devotees would be all over it with support.”
It was still weird to think that my girlfriend had a fan club, but I couldn’t blame them. And I had finally listened to one full episode of her podcast—thank you very much—it was pretty good. Still, I wasn’t about to sit around and listen to hours more, but it wasn’t due to her. Podcasts just weren’t my thing. Like, why aren’t we dancing and singing? If I’m listening to something on my Air Pods, it’s music and I’m vibing with the beat, not a White woman telling me about murder. Life is short, y’all. No shade on the true crime peeps, but give me a romcom story line and a dance beat and I’m in my element.
“I will ask her what she thinks,” I agreed. “But that’s all I can promise.”
Isa put her hands up defensively. “That’s all I ask. Ooh, I’ve got tea for you, by the way.”
I lifted a singular brow. “Spill.”
She grinned and clasped her hands. “I met someone.”
“Yeah, I know. Eduardo.” I frowned because hadn’t we just had this conversation and gotten Caps tickets out of the entire thing?
“What? No, Eduardo was apparently married. He left that entire part out of his Hinge bio,” Isa said with a loud sigh.
I should have seen that one coming, yet I was still somehow surprised.
I loved Isa—seriously, I did. She was an incredible friend, and I was trying to remind myself of that right now instead of judging her. She was wicked smart and ridiculously silly, and her loyalty was blood-deep. Literally.
“He’s a firefighter,” Isa continued, ignoring my concern. “This new guy, I mean. And not just a firefighter. He’s Mister DC July.”
Oh, okay. “In the sexy man calendar?”
I wasn’t a purveyor of the end product, but I could appreciate a great physique like anyone else.
Isa nodded. “They don’t give July to the throwaways. That’s the sexiest month of the year!”
“I mean, debatable, but okay.” We’re ranking sexiness of months now? Don’t count me in for that. “Let me see a picture.”
She fiddled with her phone for a moment then pointed the screen toward me. Sure enough, the male specimen who donned center stage was a cishet woman’s dream man. There was something familiar about him though…a sparkle in his eyes maybe? His lashes were longer than I’d have expected, and I could swear I’d seen him somewhere before.
“He’s hot. And I think I’ve met him,” I commented. “But I cannot remember where.”
Isa pulled the phone back protectively. “Normally I’d be jealous, but since you’re gay as hell, I’ll push past my own insecurities.”
“You do that,” I teased, my eyes rolling hard at her. “But, listen, I’ll ask Tyler about the podcast. I wouldn’t hold out hope though. I don’t want her doing anything that might make her feel uncomfortable. Things are still…they’re new, you know?”
“I know, I know.” Isa waved her hands again. “I don’t want to mess up things between the two of you. I just can’t turn off my PR brain.”
I grinned. “I know that all too well about you.”
She shot me an annoyed look. “I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.”
“It is,” I confirmed. “You’re the most impressive businesswoman I know. I wish I had half the prowess you do.”
If Isa was a peacock, this is the moment she’d have fluffed out all her feathers and taken a proud walk around the bar. But reality was, that was the truth. I’d always struggled on the business front, and Kiki was the first time I’d ever felt a true conviction behind my actions. But Isa went into every project like it was her kin, and I admired the hell out of her dedication to her work.
Isa pointed toward my phone that was sitting on the bar in between us. “Well, then. What are you waiting for? Give Tyler a call.”
“What? Right now?” I balked at the idea.
She wasn’t done though, and her idea only took flight from there. “Wait, isn’t she upstairs? She lives in the building, right?”
I hadn’t told Isa that information, so it was weird that she knew but also…kind of normal for Isa. “I mean, yeah…she has the penthouse.”
She nodded like it was obvious. “Of course she does. Go up there!”
“Right now?” Tyler had spent last night at my apartment for the first time, because obviously we spent a lot more time at hers since it was a million times fancier than my bare-bones situation. However, I liked my place and didn’t need all the accoutrements that she required. “She’s probably busy. I can’t just drop by unannounced.”
Isa’s brow lifted, and she let her gaze rake over me with judgy abandon. “Oh, so you’re not there yet, huh?”
Rude. “What there are you talking about?”
“The kind of level of comfort where you can stop by each other’s places without warning. You’re still in the ask-permission phase of dating,” Isa explained nonchalantly as if she wasn’t issuing me a challenge with every single word that came out of her mouth. “That’s fine. Maybe you two will get there some day.”
“I mean, we might be there,” I countered, even though I had no factual basis to assert that claim. “I’m sure she’d be fine if I stopped by unannounced.”
Isa gave me a daring look. “Cool. Well, go ask then. I’ll hold down the fort until you get back.”
“Okay then,” I agreed, already walking toward the door as if I actually had the balls to follow through on the check my mouth was writing. “I’ll be back soon then. Or maybe I won’t. Who knows? Things might get busy.”
Isa rolled her eyes. “Well, if you get distracted by her bedsheets, just text me a response, and I’ll close up for you.”
“Don’t wait up,” I teased, already half the way to the door.
She laughed. “Promises, promises!”