Page 130 of Spring Break Fling

“Not true.” He smirked. “I just want you to come back and work for me.”

“Afraid I’m gonna steal all your business?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. “In short? Yes.”

I laughed, but the truth was, he wasn’t entirely wrong. I’d been looking at locations for my own shop for the past week, and this one ticked nearly every box. Location? Prime. Space? Decent. Ambience? A little elbow grease and some plants could fix that. But the reality? I couldn’t afford it. Rent in Miami was no joke, and that wasn’t even touching the cost of chairs, supplies, licensing, and, oh yeah, paying myself enough to eat.

“You’re quiet,” Marcus said. “That’s not like you.”

“I’m thinking,” I replied.

The agent was trying to look like he wasn’t listening. “Can I answer any questions?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Not yet. Thanks for showing me the place. I’ll be in touch.”

Marcus and I stepped out, but instead of walking to his truck, he stopped me. “Let’s get something to eat. We’ll talk. You can tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

We walked into a cafe, seating ourselves. We ordered burgers and fries along with sodas.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked.

“Just a lot to think about.”

“Like what?”

I shrugged it off, but he wasn’t letting me off that easily.

“You wanted me to come along to see this place,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“I guess I’m worried I’m not cut out for this. I can’t believe how high rent is and how ridiculous it is that someone’s paying two grand a month to sell overpriced vegan candles down the block. How the hell are they making it? They can’t be making enough to pay for rent, utilities, and insurance and then still have something left to put food on the table.”

Marcus snorted. “The Miami dream, baby.” He took a swig from his soda. “You gotta understand, Nikko, everyone here is hustling one way or another. Either you swim with the sharks or get eaten. It’s tough, but you’ve got something many don’t.”

“What’s that?” I asked, not really sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

“Talent,” Marcus said firmly. “Real talent. And the balls to try something new. Most folks just keep treading water, doing the same old thing.”

I frowned down at my burger, thinking over his words. They should have been reassuring, but they doubled my worries. Talent wasn’t going to pay the bills. Grit might, but did I have enough of it?

“Look, starting anything on your own is a gamble. Sure, it’s scary, and yes, it’s expensive. But man, when it works, it’s worth every minute of the blood, sweat, and tears you’ll put in.”

I glanced at him. “Why’d you even come to check this place out with me? Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

He shook his head. “Nah, man. I just wanted to see what you’re after. I actually think it’s a good spot. And I wanted to sit down and talk to you about something.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “What’s up?”

I assumed he was going to tell me I had signed a non-compete clause. I didn’t think I did, but I had not actually read anything I signed when he hired me years ago. Marcus didn’t strike me as the type to deny me the chance to make a living, but money made people do crazy things.

“You’ve been doing good work. Even after… well, you know.”

“After you fired me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, after all your personal shit blew back on the shop.” He sighed. “I’ve been talking to Jessie—she’s been pretty vocal about how much we all miss having you around. She might’ve threatened to quit.”

“Jessie? She’s like the shop’s golden child. You’re gonna let her walk?”

“Hell no,” Marcus said with a grin. “That’s why I’m here. She broke it down for me. Made me realize I messed up.”