A cafe, eventually
Same family. Same standards. This one pours coffee.
There's a version of a coffee shop that's really just a counter with a card reader. That isn't the one we're interested in.
The thing we're good at doesn't have much to do with nails, it turns out. It's the part where somebody walks in and doesn't have to explain themselves — where the person behind the counter already knows it's oat milk, already knows you take the corner table when it's free, already knows you've had a week. That travels. It works just as well over a cup as it does over a hand.
We're not going to put a date on it. We'd rather open late and right than early and thin — the same reason we don't rush anybody out of a chair. When there's something real to tell you, you'll hear it from us first, most likely from whoever's doing your nails.
Until then, the two rooms we do have are open — and the coffee in them is free.