Page 45 of Billionaire and the Barista

“How is poor Ricky? Will he survive?”

“I’m not too worried about his survival as I am my own. I’m sure by now he has already texted the rest of my employees that he caught the boss kissing a customer. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You let your employees treat you like that?”

“Like what? Their friend?” She stared at me. “Yes, I do. I’m not some kind of a hard ass. I try to be the person I would like to work for.”

“And how is that working for you?”

“My turnover is low. My regulars know my employees’ names, my employees know the customers. It works well. It’s one of the things I don’t have to worry about.”

“Running this place must take a lot of your energy,” I said.

I needed to know more about what she did. It felt like I came back to the same Gabriella, but also, she was a completely different woman. My Gabs had been simple, a girl who worked at a coffee shop. This woman was strong, beautiful, fascinating, and so capable it was overwhelming.

“Some days are definitely harder than others. And sometimes I want to quit. But then I remember getting help from the people in this neighborhood, and I want, no I need to pass along that help. I remember the days how a hot cup of coffee and some kind words were what kept me going. I want to give that back.”

We walked for a long while, our hands together, but our thoughts our own. Mine were completely on her and getting her back into my arms. I wanted to help her, make things easier for her. Maybe she would have taken that help six years ago, but not this woman, she was a problem solver. And right now, she just needed to vent.

She sighed. “Lately, I’ve been targeted by the real estate boom that's going on in the area. This was always a decent working-class neighborhood. Okay, maybe not the best, but the people who live and work here are good people. Sometimes they fall on hard times, or their kids run into trouble. But now you turn the corner, and a new apartment complex is going up, old businesses are selling out, and something high-end moves in. I’ve been getting these obnoxious calls, sometimes twice a day or more.”

“What kind of calls?” My gut tightened; I knew exactly what she was going to say.

“Real estate agents asking if they know what my property is worth.”

I found a bike rack and leaned against it, pulling Gabriella into my space, between my legs. I wrapped my arms around her. She rested her hands on my shoulders.

“And?” I asked. I needed to know if she knew exactly what she was sitting on.

“My property is worth fuck them, it’s mine. And if it’s an investment for some developer, it’s an investment for me.”

I brushed the hood from her hair and trailed my fingers through the silky strands.

“You need some time away from all of this. When was the last time you took a vacation or at least had a day off?”

“It’s been a while,” she said with a bitter laugh.

“I want you to go away with me. We’ll take a road trip for a weekend. I can pick you up after work and have you back in time for the morning shift a few days later.”

She sighed and shook her head. “The best I can do is two days off and an overnight.”

“I’ll take it.”

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