Page 84 of Friends Don't Kiss

A lease? That could work. If they’re motivated, their price might be workable. I might even be able to change the overhead lighting for lantern-style pendants, or even something dreamy like Chloe did at her restaurant. I could paint one of the walls in chalkboard paint and write quotes from famous bakers. And on the large window ledge facing south, I’d add an herb garden for mood and scent and atmosphere. None of this needs to be expensive. This is totally doable. Still, something nags at me. Why isn’t this place occupied?

“What was it until now?” I don’t remember Dewey’s barn ever being a restaurant, but then again, I don’t go out much. I could have missed it. What I can tell though, is that it’s set up to be one.

“The owners first renovated it as a place to sell the produce from their farm. Over time they added refrigerators, and a little space for tasting. It grew into a sort of country café showcasing all their farm’s products. For whatever reason, they stopped doing that, and someone leased it to turn it into a full-on restaurant, but it never panned out. That’s why it’s in such pristine condition. They never opened it.”

I perch on the barstool next to hers and narrow my eyes, trying to understand. “Why would someone throw all this money in and never operate it? It sounds crazy.” I think back at how pissed I was over my wasted elbow grease and the money spent on one antique mirror for the space I lost last summer. I can’t imagine pouring tens of thousands of dollars, all for nothing.

Who would do that?

Maddie lifts her shoulders. “One person’s loss is another’s gain.”

But all this spend?“I’m assuming it wouldn’t come equipped, would it?” Surely whoever leased it is going to move their equipment out before long.

“It comes as is.” She smiles at me. “Look, I know it sounds too good to be true, and you’re probably wondering what’s the catch. The reality is, the dining space is on the small side. Probably not large enough to turn enough of a profit on a restaurant. Now, if you’re looking to use it as a catering space up to regulations, and make extra money from on-site tastings, this could be perfect for you.”

“But what about the previous… well, the people who set it up as a restaurant?”

“It’s my understanding they left the appliances as payment for past due rent. I didn’t get into the specifics, but you would have a precise description of the equipment it will come with when signing the lease. No surprises. Actually, here’s a provisional list. You can take a look,” she says, sliding a printed page my way.

I’m so excited I can hardly think straight. I already noticed the type of ovens they have—a Moffat and a Revent, both with steam injection. More than I ever dreamed of having this early on.

I glance outside at the sun setting over the hill. The snow glitters, traces of a deer the only disturbance, like ellipses on a white sheet of paper—an invitation to follow into the unknown. Then my gaze turns back inside, and I can picture it in even more detail, my mind completing the decor, narrowing on the experience itself. Vintage pastry cases. An interactive tasting station. A coffee nook.

“And it’s zoned commercial, right?” It’s close enough to the village to assume that it is, but the absence of any other building in the immediate surrounding begs the question.

“You would run this as an Agricultural Accessory Use,” Maddie answers, making it sound like it’s a given. “People do it all the time. Especially as a tenant, you can benefit from their farm use. You’d just need to file a special permit with the town. I can help you with that.”

I nod, not sure what she means by all that.

“That’s what the restaurant people were going to do. Shame that they weren’t as savvy as you are. You know, I tasted your blueberry buckle at Emerald Lake resort over the summer, and it was absolutely superb.”

I blush slightly. The resort never gives me feedback on my creations, so it’s good to know some people notice. “Oh, thank you.” I hope I can trust her about the special permit. I don’t want her taking me for a ride. People tend to do that when they see you at a disadvantage. This woman is local, and friendly. I have no reason not to trust her. But her primary goal is to get her commission. Maybe I’ll ask Colton for advice, although Justin’s words about people being bound to ask him for favors are etched in my memory.

“Do you also make the gingerbread house they have over the holidays?” Maddie asks me.

“I do.” How do I ask her about the special permit without looking totally clueless?

She swats my arm playfully. “Stop! I was kidding. I thought for sure they ordered it from… I don’t know where.”

“Yeah, those things don’t travel too well.”

“It must have taken you ages!”

I nod. “You could say that.” The gingerbread house is a statement piece they place in their grand dining room. It’s great for their social media, but for me, it isn’t exactly creative from a culinary perspective. But it’s good money that comes when my other gigs die down for a couple of weeks while restaurants take a break early November, after foliage craziness.

“You would do so well with your own shop!” Maddie exclaims. “Imagine all the second-home owners. I mean, I heard people asking to order the desserts as takeout at the resort.”

I’m stunned. That’s the first I’ve heard of that. “Really?” I ask.

She continues with her train of thought. “At the price they’re selling them on the menu, you would make a killing!”

I’d never thought of it that way. I’d never realized people who lived here dined at the resort. But with the quantities they’re having me make, that makes sense now.

“How much do they pay you per dessert—don’t tell me. Just think about it. And then there’s your costs, of course, but… girl, you could really be successful. You know who you should talk to? Emma. You know her, right?”

Yeah, and I’m texting her right after this. “Yes, I use her services.” Her talk about Emma gets drowned in what she said first.How much are they paying me per dessert?They’re paying me by the hour. And sure, they provide the equipment and the ingredients, but…

Excitement zings through my veins as I take a last look around, projecting myself thriving here.

---