Page 5 of That Kind of Guy

“I feel like there’s more.”

“Well,” she said and took a deep breath. “Avery, I know that you love The Arbutus, and I know it’s as special to you as it is to me.”

“Absolutely.” Zero hesitation.

“The townhouse in Layla’s complex is more than my home here by a lot. Vancouver real estate is quite expensive.”

I had heard about this. Even Vancouver Island prices were rising, and residents were frustrated that their adult children were struggling to buy a home. I knew about the issue but wasn’t concerned by it, because I had no intention of buying a home anytime soon. My sole focus was saving to buy The Arbutus one day.

“Are you going to sell your home here?” I asked her.

She nodded and looked a little bit sad but resolved. “I’m listing it tomorrow. It’ll be hard to leave the place I’ve lived in for thirty years, but it’s time.” She smiled again at me and nodded. “And I’ll be selling the restaurant as well.”

My pulse stopped. I blinked. “Selling…the restaurant?”

She nodded, watching me. “That’s the plan. My financial advisor thinks it’s better if I sell both to pay for the townhome.” She nodded again to herself. “And I’m ready. It’s time for the next phase of life, being a grandmother.” She smiled.

“I have to ask—who are you selling it to?”

“You, if you’re interested.” There was a sparkle in her eye.

My mouth gaped open. “Of course I’m interested!”

She laughed. We had never spoken about me buying the place, but there always seemed to be an unspoken understanding about it.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said, taking another sip of tea and smiling at me over her mug. “I was disappointed when my Layla didn’t want anything to do with the place, but you waltzed in, and my prayers were answered.”

My eyes stung, and I smiled at her. I had worked in the restaurant industry for five years before moving here and never had I found a mentor like Keiko, someone who was kind to their staff, someone who taught me everything about how to run a restaurant. To hear her tell me that she wanted me to buy The Arbutus made me even more resolved to make her proud.

A thought struck me. Did I have enough savings for a loan? I thought I had more time. I thought Keiko would retire in five, maybe ten years. This was a surprise, but I could handle it. I had handled surprises before, and I had everything under control. I was going to buy the restaurant.

“I hope you know that I love this restaurant, and I will do everything in my power to ensure it is a success,” I vowed, leaning in. “I’ll go to the bank tomorrow. I’ll talk to them about a business loan.”

“Wonderful,” she sang with a bright smile. “Absolutely wonderful.”

Later, after we had finished our tea and I had said goodbye to Keiko, my gaze lingered on a framed photo in my office of me and my mom, taken about twenty years ago. My thumb brushed the frame, and I studied her young, smiling face, full of hope and optimism. This photo was taken by my dad on opening day of her restaurant, before everything went downhill.

That wouldn’t happen to me. I’d make sure of it. No one was going to grab the wheel from me. I’d learned my lesson, watching my parents.

I set the picture back down on my desk, locked up, and headed home to my tiny, crappy apartment. The rain and wind had stopped, and the air smelled saturated and earthy. I lived in the loft apartment of a house a few blocks from the restaurant. The landlord had subdivided a house into five different units and often rented to people who came to work in Queen’s Cove for the tourist season. I opened the door of my place and flicked the lights on. It was nearly one in the morning, and I could hear music from the downstairs neighbours through the floor. This summer’s tenants liked to party.

“Hello, shit hole,” I murmured as I tossed my bag and keys on the counter of the pokey little kitchen. I had lived in this apartment my entire time in Queen’s Cove, and because of the cheap rent, had no intention of moving. I got what I paid for, though. There were water stains on the ceiling, the carpet was worn and thin, and I could practically hear my downstairs neighbours breathing. I’m sure they could hear every cough and sneeze from me, as well.

My stomach rumbled and I realized I left my dinner on the counter of the bar, back at the restaurant. I pulled my phone out and ordered a pizza.

After my stomach was full and I had showered, I crawled into bed. Keiko’s words replayed in my head, and I wiggled my toes with excitement. I grinned to myself in the dark. Finally, after all these years of hard work, I was going to buy the restaurant. This was my shot, and I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way.

2

Emmett

The construction sitewas bustling when I arrived. A couple weeks ago, the crews had been pouring the concrete foundation, but now the structure was up, and men and women in hardhats and steel-toed boots moved through the doorways with tools and drawings in hand. In three months, this site would open as the new Queen’s Cove community center.

“Hey, Emmett,” Sandra, one of our civil engineers, said as she passed. “Holden’s in the atrium.”

“Thanks, Sandra. How about that game last night?” I grinned at her, knowing she was devastated after her beloved hockey team, the Toronto Maple Leafs, lost to the Vancouver Canucks in overtime.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she replied, making a mock sad face.

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