Chapter 69
“Sounds like a plan!” Nanson exclaimed, “If Ann teaches you her killer cooking skills, we’ll make a killing! Carole, don’t underestimate a diner. It’s way better than any desk job if it hits off.”
“You’re right, Uncle Nanson,” Anthea nodded in agreement, but Carole remained skeptical.
Starting a diner sounded easy, but the reality could be quite challenging.
Running a business wasn’t just about smooth talking.
If things went south, just the rent could be a nightmare to cover.
Carole furrowed her brow. “The rent in a decent spot in our town is sky–high. We’re talking thousands a month…”
“Don’t worry about the money,” Nanson assured her, “I’ve got enough saved up for rent, and once Mrs. Black’s husband is back on his feet, she’s paying me a hefty fee. Besides, we will turn a profit with the business.”
Mentioning Paulina, a worried look crossed Carole’s face, “Ann, are you sure Mr. Black will recover within a month?”
She had accompanied Anthea on a house call to check on Tammie some time ago.
Tammie had seemed at death’s door.
Carole was deeply concerned.
Anthea offered a reassuring smile, as fresh and hopeful as April’s blossoms. “Don’t worry. Mr. Black will pull through.”
Somehow, that smile washed away Carole’s worries about Tammie, but she still had her doubts
about the diner venture.
Seeing Carole’s anxious demeanor, Nanson couldn’t help but encourage her. “Carole! You got to have guts in business! Take risks! With your cold feet, you’ll never strike it rich!”
Nanson was a different breed altogether.
He dared to take leaps, although his business acumen was questionable.
“Okay then,” Carole relented, “I’ll trust you guys.”
“After dinner, I’ll write down some recipes for you to practice at home, and I’ll start scouting for a location.”
“Sounds good,” Carole nodded.
After leaving the Yeager residence, Anthea strolled to the nearby pedestrian street to look for available storefronts.
By sheer luck, she stumbled upon a shop up for lease.
1/2
1125
The place was empty save for an old lady at a table, engrossed in playing Solitaire on her phone, oblivious to Anthea’s arrival.
“Hello there.”
Startled, the lady looked up. “Oh, dear, what can I get you?”
Anthea shook her head slightly. “I noticed your ‘For Lease‘ sign outside. Is it still available?”
“Yes, it is,” the lady confirmed, sizing up Anthea.
“How much for the transfer fee?” Anthea inquired.
Doubting a young woman could afford it, the old lady replied while fixated on her game. “The fee is $8,000. You get everything in the shop as is. The rent is $3,000 a month, paid annually. There’s six months left, so you’re looking at $26,000 in total to take over.”
Contrary to the lady’s expectations. Anthea wasn’t fazed by the figure.
Her composure remained unshaken.
The lady squinted her eyes, reconsidering. Could this young lady be a low–key wealthy type?
With the thought in mind, she warmed up considerably, giving Anthea a tour around the shop, explaining the ins and outs and even the supply chain.
“The location’s a bit off the beaten path.” Anthea observed with a slight frown.
The lady chuckled. “Sure, it’s a bit hidden, but a good wine needs no bush! Success is all about effort. I believe you’ll do great business here with some hard work! We’re only selling because we’re moving abroad. Otherwise, I’d never let it go. You should’ve seen the crowd just a few days ago. We’ve got our minds on moving, and the chef left. That’s why business has dropped.”
