“That sounds like a great idea. I like it,” Delia said as she wrote it down.
“The process of hiring and training will start in two weeks. I will work on other aspects such as marketing, advertising, and yes, the menu creation with Will,” Marcus said.
I nodded.
Everything was starting to sound real now. Not just a hopeful idea, but an actual plan with shape and movement and people attached to it. Fear flickered beneath my excitement, but it did not overpower it.
After they left, I noticed that Will was standing nearby, biting his fingernails nervously.
“What am I going to do for four weeks? I’ve never been off work that long,” he asked anxiously.
“It’s not exactly four weeks,” I said gently, placing my hands on his shoulders. “The renovation will take about two weeks. Marcus will be working with you and the suppliers on the menu. You will also be there to hire and train the new cooks. So technically,” I paused thoughtfully, “you’ll be off for a week to a week and a half, max.”
He visibly relaxed.
“This seems like a good start,” Jack said as he walked beside me.
It truly did feel like a good start. I could not have been more grateful for this opportunity. I silently promised myself that I would pour every ounce of effort and energy into making this work.
No matter what it cost me.
For Lucas.
For my unborn daughter.
For our future.
For myself.
The next day,I was on my way to the bank to arrange a line of credit for the business when Jack called and asked me to meet him at the restaurant.
When I arrived and got out of the car, Jack walked over to me and handed me an envelope.
“What’s this?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, opening it.
Inside was a cheque for $400,000.
My head jerked back slightly, and my hand flew to the base of my neck in shock.
“The owner wants to put all the money down so that you don’t have to. You don’t need to go to the bank,” Jack said with a smile. “You just need to make sure this works. He is counting on you.”
I thought about it carefully.
This was incredibly generous. But fifty-fifty meant fifty-fifty. I did not want charity. I did not want favours. I wanted to do this on my terms and share the responsibility equally. If this restaurant succeeded, I wanted to know I had carried my half of it. If it failed, I wanted the same.
“No, Jack,” I said firmly.
He tilted his head slightly.
“It’s a fifty-fifty partnership, and I want to put in my share. I don’t want any handouts. I want to put in all I have, whether it is money, ideas, blood, or sweat.”
I meant every word. I was passionate about this new venture. This was going to be my restaurant.Well, half of it.But it was still something I was building for myself, and I intended to work my butt off to make it succeed.
“You going to be fine though?” he asked, glancing at my stomach. “Especially in your state?”
I instinctively stepped back.
How did he know?My clothes were loose, and I had tried to hide it carefully.
