“My lawyer, he’s waiting in the car. Let me know if you have any trouble with those farmers or other names on that list. Trust me, they all owe me a favor.”
“And now I do too.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll collect, in a free dinner, very soon!”
She helped Aunt Emma to the door and saw the waiting car, with Peter, the attorney chauffeur, waiting in the driver’s seat.
“And whatever you do, please, no paper placemats in this place. Keep it classy.”
“Will do.”
Aunt Emma left for her beauty rest, and Hope looked at the list. Time to start making relationships with the vendors and farmers if she was going to pull off her local menu concept.
Her plan was going to be different from any restaurant in the area. She knew this. And she knew it would be challenging to do.
Hope sifted through the pages of her rapidly filling yellow notepads.
If she wanted everything on the menu sourced from the area, could she also fill this space with local ceramics, artwork, and linens? She knew it would be more work to go this route, but it was central to her idea of her dream restaurant.
She thought back to her grandparents’ farm, which was small compared to some in the area. She remembered picking peaches at Kapnick’s Orchard and getting sour cherries at Hide Away farms.
Her grandpa had let all five of her friends roam around the edge of the farm, picking strawberries he planted.
She could still taste the strawberry shortcake concoction she’d invented in Aunt Emma’s kitchen. Libby was not into baking, and neither was Goldie. But J.J. and Viv were her willing sous chefs back then. Before they knew that was a job.
She envisioned her changing menu. She’d create dishes that took advantage of fresh asparagus in spring and fat blackberries in July.
Hope looked at the list from Aunt Emma. What was the top priority? It was a bit daunting, considering she didn’t have one thing accomplished yet.
Libby and J.J. had offered to help but Hope knew they were also busy. J.J. was a hairstylist, and Libby ran the world, as far as Hope could see.
First thing’s first. She needed equipment and staff. That could take the longest to get in place. So, she started there.
The restaurant already had a dishwasher and a mixer. It needed a range and oven immediately. Hope had cash, thanks to her win, so she could invest in some of the things they’d need. She probably should have come to some agreement with Libby about who owned what in here. She made a note to talk it over with her old friend. She wanted this to work, but also, what if she couldn’t pull this off? If someone else took over this space, Libby would need to know what Hope had purchased. Friendships ended over money misunderstandings. Hope wasn’t going to let that happen, not after just finding Libby and J.J. again.
Hope ripped a sheet of paper from her notebook and wrote, Help Wanted, in big block letters with a black Sharpie. She added her cellphone number and taped it to the window. She locked up, and then she went out to the truck. She’d probably have to put the job openings online somewhere, but at least if there was someone local looking for a job, she had a sign up.
She had the afternoon. She was going to check in on Aunt Emma’s list. Sure, she could call, but what she wanted was to build relationships. To figure out how to work with the growers to create from what they had.
Behind the wheel of the pickup truck, windows open, Hope traveled up and down the country roads that provided a patchwork between the lakes.
She made deals with two local vegetable farmers. She arranged for them to bring the produce to her when they could. If they couldn’t, she made a note of that too. She’d be driving a lot and picking up a lot if she didn’t get a staff together. She wondered if Libby would sell her this truck.
She knew Libby was being generous to get Hope to stay and open the restaurant. But she did have her winnings and some extra from her catering business. If this succeeded, she’d need to pay her way. But she wasn’t stupid. If this failed, she didn’t want to be destitute. Her freedom from Archie right now was dependent on her taking the right steps and letting Libby be generous for now.
It was a productive afternoon; she’d sourced a few things on her list.
But she still needed staff. She’d need a sous chef, three servers, a busboy, and a dishwasher at least.
She jotted more things down on her notepad and flipped to the next page. Hope thought of four more things to add.
“I’ll never be done if I keep adding to the list.”
She was back at the little cottage that evening with a new list and her phone.
She drank a glass of wine from Cherry Creek, thanks to Aunt Emma, and a listing online caught her eye.
It was a used but workable commercial-grade oven with eight gas burners and was local. That could be something! She messaged the seller.
