Page 36 of Voyeur Café

The property manager has to step outside to take a call shortly after he lets us in the building, so Hector and I are left to wander around on our own. The floors are a drab linoleum, and every wall that isn’t covered in lime-green tile is in need of a good coat of paint. But itisa corner unit with lots of windows and natural light.

“Honestly, this is the best place I’ve toured.”

“Itis? You cannot be serious.” Hector makes no attempt to mask his shock.

“Yes,” I laugh, “It really is.” Leaning against the wall, I dig in my purse to find my phone so I can take a few pictures. “Everything’s in good shape. It’s not too expensive. The floors and walls can be changed. It’s notourneighborhood, but it’s a good one.”

Hector moves around the space, one hand propped under his chin, considering. “Maybe I was being a touch too judgmental.” He paces quietly for a couple of minutes, trying to see its potential. “Our chairs would look okay right here in the corner,and you could put tables along that wall, but it would be a tight squeeze.”

Moving behind the counter, I join him in imagining the space. “The espresso machine could go here. This place is bigger behind the counter than what I currently have, which would be really nice.” We spend the next twenty minutes taking pictures and visualizing how to make it work.

“You don’t love it, do you?” Hector asks, concern rimming his chocolate brown eyes.

“No, not yet.” I scan the empty dining room again, trying to imagine the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of friendly conversations. “But I could if I had to—”

“If youhadto? Yuck.”

I wish he loved it. Maybe then, I could love it. I’m running out of time.“So, you don’t think this place could work?” I wave at the windows, which are its best feature.

“I want to hate it because it’s far away, but you could make something special out of this space if youhadto,” Hector begrudgingly admits, as he inspects one corner of tacky tiled wall.

“I mayhaveto make the most of something. If not this place, then something like it. Nothing will beat Station 19, but,” I spin around in a circle, taking in all 360 degrees of the old smoothie shop, “honestly, I’m starting to see it. This could be really good.” The weight on my chest lifts a little. For the first time, I found something thatcouldwork. “It’s big enough, not too expensive, has lots of outdoor space, and the rest I can work around.”

The property manager comes back in right as I’m ready to tell him I’m interested in the building. “Oh, good! You’re back,” I say, smiling widely at him.

“Hey, guys,” he says in a slow, cautious voice. He closes hiseyes, wincing, and I know what’s coming before he says it. “So, my business partner just leased this unit this morning. I’m so sorry to waste your time. I didn’t realize.”

Of course.I’m flooded with warring feelings of disappointment and relief. I wanted this to be it so I could be done trying to solve my problem. But at the same time, I’m holding out hope that something better will come.

“Perfect!” Hector claps his hands together. “Now you can’t settle. Let’s celebrate with samosas.”

For him, the matter is closed, but my mind can’t shift to lunch. “Hector, what if I can’t do this?” I ask him, as we step outside the latest building that will not be housingTurbine.

Hearing the tone in my voice, he swivels and pulls me into a warm hug. The smell of his cologne, woodsy and bright, brings me comfort.

“Alice Walker,” he uses my full name, one of the few people who knows what Allie is short for, “you have already done this.Turbineexists. Right now. Because you made it.”

“But what if I fail this time around?” Emotion rises in my throat, the loss of this building that I only wanted for forty-five seconds, and not even that badly, the final straw that makes me break.

“Nothing about this could make you a failure. You could closeTurbine’s doors forever, which Iknowyou will not have to do, and you would not be a failure. Who are you really worried about failing?”

My family,who I barely speak to, my friends,who couldn’t consider me a failure even if I never earned another dollar in my life. Me.No caveat there.I’m worried about failing me. I can’t say it. “Maybe I am ready for samosas.”

Hector’s lips widen into the whitest toothed smile of anyone I know. “Alright, let’s get lunch, and in a fewdays we can go check out that place on Avenida de los Arboles andThird.” He pronounces the first street name in his Mexican accent the same way he always does when he pronounces the Spanish street names around here, and it makes me smile.

“Hector, that place is twice my budget,” I laugh.

“You know Brian and I would help if—”

“Absolutely not,” I cut him off.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Had to at least try.”

433 Sierra Vista

Too late :(

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