Page 24 of Falling for My Ex Next Door

I thought otherwise. He was more like James Moriarty; his eyes were hidden behind his shades and gave off a cold, calculating vibe. I had not heard him say more than two words, but then I could conjecture that his voice would be low and would carry a dangerous edge similar to the superficial hint of occultism and violence he bore.

I wanted to whisper all this into her ear, but I waved it off so the girl would not find the situation more uncomfortable.

At the far end of the room, a couple sat sipping their coffee, not very blind to what was happening but not very understanding of the situation. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

The man lingered on the spot, with shades on his face and a tight-lipped mouth. What was he up to?

“Can you give me a minute?” I asked the girl and her mom.

“Sure.” her mom answered.

Slowly, I opened the envelope, and there was a printed letter stamped by a man named Joe Griffin.

It was a proposal. The so-called Joe Griffin would give a hundred thousand dollars in exchange for the coffee shop, which he intended to demolish alongside the other establishments in this particular line of shops. The document mentioned that Joe Griffin knew of the foreclosure notice on the building; in his words, he was willing to relieve me of the burden of paying off the debt by buying the building.

Who was this man? And how did he know about something private? Knowing that he must have done some real digging totally put me off.

“I’m afraid I cannot agree with this.” I blatantly said, no longer interested in whatever was added toward the end of the letter. I prepared the girl’s order without minding the mysterious man’s presence.

“I advise you to reconsider, ma’am.” He spoke at last, stiff and still glued to the spot.

“I am not interested in your offer. Could you please tell Mr-”

“Joe Griffin.” He rudely cut in, stressing the words. I was irritated. “It is a generous offer, Miss Lisbon,” he continued.

“I am not interested in your “generous offer,” and it would be best if you took your leave so that I could concentrate on my business.” I wanted to sound as polite as possible, but I felt I might have failed at it.

He slightly groaned and left. My eyes trailed him as he disappeared into the busy street that separated the two uniform arrays of shops.

Disturbed and distressed, I handed the girl her order, her mom paid and they eventually left.

I was so angry and discouraged, so much so that I stopped cleaning and sat on my chair.

I immediately called my mom. I couldn’t help but tell her about the recent developments.

“It seems to me that he is a business owner,” I said.

“What could he possibly want to erect in such an area of the city? Not an industry; that would be very wrong.” She mused.

“Does that even matter, Mom? What matters is that he wants to buy the coffee shop to demolish it, and I cannot allow that.”

“Yes, my dear. I love your conviction. That is truly what matters. You have not come all this way to let it go.”

“Yes, Mom. I just hope he never returns.” Now, recollecting the ominous presence of the messenger gave me goosebumps.

“Whether he returns or not, you’ll be okay, baby. Trust me and take your stance. Also, keep me abreast of the situation, okay?” She instructed.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Good,” she smiled. “I hope there’s nothing else I should know about?” She arched her brow.

“Nothing else, Mom. It’s all cool here, and I feel better now.”

“You and Jacob are good?”

“Good?” I pondered the word for a moment. “Sure.” I knew I appeared pretty uncertain. I couldn’t really find a suitable answer to her question.

“Have you been in contact then?” She queried.

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