Page 20 of Coffee Shop Girl
“You do everything?”
I nodded proudly. “My dad taught me. Or I just figured it out. Mostly that.”
My cheeks burned. Did that sound as juvenile to him as it did to me?
“Any reason for the third degree?” I asked as I tied my apron more firmly around my waist. I smoothed wrinkles that didn’t exist. His gaze followed the movement, then skated away. The five o’clock shadow that he’d walked in here with the other day had grown into an early beard, filling the angled hollows of his cheeks. He looked darkly grizzled now.
Enough to set my stomach on fire.
“Yes, actually. There is a reason for my questions. I’m in Pineville because I’m considering a new business. It revolves mostly around taking failing brick-and-mortar stores and turning them into successes.”
My spine tightened like a stack of dominoes with a string.Failing? Okay, he wasn’t wrong. But he didn’t have to be soright,either.
“Oh?”
He flashed another quick smile, but something lingered beneath it. Something solid. Stern, but charming in itself. It reminded me of Dad. I didn’t like that atall.
“We can both pretend that this place isn’t on the brink of disaster. Or we can face the obvious situation for what it is.”
My courage returned on swift feet. “You have some balls to walk in here and say that.”
“Because it’s true?”
“You don’t know anything about my coffee shop.”
“I can guess.”
“Try me,” I snapped.
One side of his lips lifted up in a smirk. “Fine,” he murmured. “I will. You have credit card debt, and it’s piling up. I’m willing to bet you’re almost maxed out, but not quite. You make enough to satisfy the minimum payment, but the balance is starting to get to you. Soon, you won’t be able to do even that.”
My palms started to sweat, but I kept them balled up at my side. He continued easily, as if he’d glimpsed into my life with binoculars.
“You still have business overhead you have to deal with, like rent and supplies. You don’t have an actual accounting system, so you can’t tell me if you’re hitting any growth, and I’d wager you wouldn’t know what KPI stood for if I bet you on it.”
My nostrils flared.
“On top of that, I’m also willing to bet that wasn’t the first employee you’ve lost. You give them a crash course on the store and then leave them to it for a test run, but you have no system set up for them to make decisions. They fail every time. When it comes to supplies, you’re guessing at what you need when you order inventory instead of doing regular audits and budget checks.”
“Wrong,” I said coldly. “We have a great system for new orders.”
Didn’t, because it had more holes than a sponge, but I couldn’t drown here. My system was very much tilt-my-head-and-make-an-educated-guess.
He quirked an eyebrow but still seemed skeptical. “Point taken. One thing in your favor. In the end, you have almost no cash flow, you don’t take home a paycheck, and you’re barely scraping by. You live and breathe this business. You’re starting to hate and resent it. Your own dreams and aspirations are getting sunk into this black hole, and you’re starting to forget what even makes you happy. You’re tethered, drowning, and have no idea how to get out. Is this sounding familiar?”
Oh, he made me want to hiss like a cat. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was bullying and pressure. In particular, when there were notes of truth in it. So many of them, too.
And ... it wasn’t exactly bullying, because he was totally, dead-on correct.
For several seconds, I stood there, debating how to handle my response. Then the bell on the door rang, announcing another customer. I glared at him.
“Please excuse me. I have a customer to attend to.”
Millie Blaine sauntered up, wreathed in a bright smile. Her blonde curls bounced as she approached, the corkscrew curls bright with new highlights. Her lipstick was a bit too dark, but it made her eyes pop.
“Hey, Bethie! How are you doing?”
Relieved at the sight of a familiar face, I returned her smile. “Hey, Millie. The usual?”
