Gloria answered on the first ring. “Ramón, darling, how are you?”
She was a friend of his mother’s, but he didn’t hold that against her. She was the best real estate agent in San Diego. More importantly, he trusted her. “Hey, Gloria. I’ll be working down in Barrio Logan opening a new restaurant with a hotshot chef. I may have to pop in a few times a day. I’d like to purchase a property in Coronado. I’ve always wanted a beach home there anyway.” Yes, he lived on the beach in La Jolla, but Coronado had a different vibe. It was a small island with a historic hotel, the Navy SEAL base, and tree-lined streets. He had fond memories of spending his summers bicycling around the island with his brothers and learning to sail in the cays.
“Oh, that sounds like an excellent idea. And a great addition to your portfolio. What are you thinking price-wise?”
“I’d like to stay under three.”
“Three million it is. Stand-alone? Condo? There are some beautiful oceanfront condos over by the Navy SEAL base.”
The condo tempted him. Low-maintenance, secure. But after living with his brothers, he yearned for a bit more privacy. He’d like a small yard—Ramón had been considering getting a dog. Maybe a Great Dane or a Weimaraner.
“I’m thinking beach cottage with a yard.”
“Well, that may be tight in that price point, but I’ll see what I can do. We’ll be in touch.”
“Sounds great. Talk to you later.”
He hung up the phone and exited into Barrio Logan. The street buzzed with life and laughter. The owner of the café next to Julieta’s restaurant waved at him. He waved back as a knot formed in his stomach. He would enjoy her greeting while it lasted. Soon, no one on this block would greet him at all.
After Ramón parked, he walked down Logan Avenue. Before heading into Las Pescas, he strolled into the café next door.
Señora Flores greeted him with a smile and a concha. “Hola, Señor Montez. I made this one especially for you.”
Ramón accepted the treat. “Hola, Señora Flores. Gracias.”
Señora Flores came from behind the counter and stood next to Ramón. “I will make them for you every day; well, if we are still open.”
Ramón pursed his lips. He wanted to say something to soothe her fears, he wanted to do right by her business, and he wanted to ensure a lifetime of conchas.
But he could offer her no such comfort. “Señora, I love your café. I hope you stay for many years.”
Her eyes lifted, and Ramón’s heart sank. He had given her a false ray of hope. He knew that Starbucks had already reached out to his father. Ramón was putting off the meeting, but he couldn’t avoid the conversation forever.
“I have to run.” Ramón quickly exited the café and opened the door of Las Pescas. Breakfast was in full swing. He spotted a younger couple feeding their toddler son eggs as he giggled.
The little boy waved at Ramón, and Ramón waved back.
He turned to see Julieta watching him. She smiled slightly. Then she pointed to a table, and Ramón sat obediently.
She motioned for him to wait and disappeared into the kitchen.
Okay, then.
Ten minutes later, Julieta appeared carrying two plates.
She set one in front of Ramón and the other in front of an empty chair. “Here is your Carnitas Eggs Benedict with Chipotle Hollandaise. I still feel bad about dropping your food the other day.”
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You were shocked. I’m just grateful I can eat here every day now.”
“Until you close it down.”
Ouch. “Well, maybe we can add these to the menu.”
Julieta rolled her eyes.
Man, she was tough.
She sat in the empty chair and motioned to the waitress. “Rosa, dos cafés, por favor.” She turned her attention back to Ramón. “Every day? I didn’t know you were involved in the day-to-day operations of opening a restaurant. I assumed you just dealt with numbers.”
