Her heart thumped in her throat as she waited for his answer. She still wasn’t sure what came next, but for once she wasn’t looking for an exit so much as a solution.
Then the three dots disappeared, and her panic turned to appreciation. He’d promised her space and he was following through on that promise. She wasn’t sure if space was what she needed anymore. She was certain that they both deserved to have an honest conversation.
She just didn’t know how to do that without blowing things up.
Chapter 23
I want someone to look at me the same way I
look at chocolate-chocolate-chunk ice cream.
—Unknown
“It’s a little more expensive than the others I showed you,” Jack, the property owner, explained.
Distracted by the opportunity in front of her, Teagan had a hard time focusing on what he was saying. She did a slow three-sixty of the former pizzeria, and her heart pounded with excitement.
“But it has four ovens, gas stove tops, and a woodfire oven in the kitchen.”
Teagan tilted her head back and admired the antique tin ceilings and redwood beams. “Is the roof original?”
“Almost a hundred years old,” Jack said.
“It’s beautiful.”
“That’s why I showed you this one. It checks nearly all the boxes on your list.”
“Everything and more.” The last time something had felt this right had been when she’d graduated from college and her nonna let her open a second location of the family bread shop in Seattle. A lot had happened since then, and she’d taken more than a few detours along the way—some unexpected, others forced, but all of them had brought her to this moment.
It was kismet. The way everything lined up. If you’d asked her a couple months ago if she’d make different life decisions she would have said, “Hell yes.” But now, standing in what could become her dream, with her dream man, she decided she wouldn’t do one single thing different.
She had her kids, her sister, now Colin, and she was standing in the space she’d always dreamed of. They’d have to repaint, build a wall separating the kitchen from the shop area, completely reconfigure the back counters and island, redesign the retail space into a traditionalforno—Italian bread shop.
Nothing too elaborate, six to eight tabletops, an espresso machine, hand pressed like Nonna used. She’d spotted it while going through Nonna’s things in Iris’s apartment above the garage. An Italian-style menu of cheese platters, charcuterie boards, and warm olives, with the star being her Coppia Ferrarese—Nonna’s famous sourdough recipe.
Of course, she’d have to purchase tables, chairs, display cases, proofing cabinets, and cooling racks. When she’d walked out her front door earlier, her plan had been to start small and grow slowly. But from the moment she walked into that shop, the bell jingling in greeting, she felt as if she were home.
It was the way the sun shone through the leaded glass windows, the look of the original hundred-year-old Dutch delft tile flooring. And this property was just a block from the original Bread N Butter shop.
“It’s perfect.” She looked at Colin. “What to do you think?”
“Perfection,” he said but when she glanced over her shoulder, he was staring at her. A shy blush crept to her cheeks.
“I mean the shop,” she clarified.
“I can see you standing in the kitchen making your bread.” He leaned in to whisper, “In nothing but a daffodil thong and heels.”
She gave his shoulder a playful shove, then focused on Jack. It was time to negotiate. She’d pulled up a list of tips to successfully negotiate a car sale. She wasn’t buying a car, but the basic principles had to apply. Right?
1. DON’T FOCUS ON THE MONTHLY, FOCUS ON THE OVERALL PRICE.
“What is the bottom line?” she asked. “All in, what are we talking?”
“With the work it will take to get you to pass inspection and open, we’re looking at . . .” Jack dropped a number, and she nearly choked because it was in direct violation of rule two:
2. KNOW YOUR BUDGET.
She knew her budget and that number wasn’t anywhere close. Not if she wanted to get the equipment needed to run a bread shop.
